☆ 33. “Now that Pigs Fly…”

from the pages of The Aqueous Transmission by Mike Eye

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[chapter THIRTY-THREE]


THE FOLLOWING DAY BROUGHT SULLEN SKIES ENTWINED WITH THE now-familiar dreary, subtle scarlet. It was mid-morning when Mother Magdalena found herself sitting on the Hallowed grounds of the Hollow in deep Contemplation to the sky over what Al Rodnam had said to her, her back propped up uncomfortably against a huge blackened, ruined stub of a trunk that had once been a massive Oak.

She knew that the old man spoke only when necessary, and in riddles that bothered the shit out of her. She knew she cared very little about Al Rodnam. But she did not have the foggiest idea how it possibly could be that the mystic had already somehow gotten her pregnant. Lina had questioned the old man several times about what he had meant, but subsequent to his utterance of the perplexing statement, Al Rodnam had chosen to give Lina the silent treatment.

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Magdalena was fairly certain they hadn’t mated, or if they had, she noted, she most definitely did not remember it, neither were there any marks about her body that could’ve leant to her hints of recent sexual activity. Maybe the old man had used another tapped spell or something of the sort, Magdalena began to entertain, a sharp anxiety starting to well up inside her. She had decided then that if Al Rodnam was to continue acting so mysteriously, she would do something about it. She wasn’t quite sure yet what that something would be, but she would most certainly do something about it, she thought to herself.

The Mother glanced down at her tone tummy. Through her brightly glittering golden dress — recently recharged at the Inner Earth lake where she could’ve sworn she saw Fletcher Munsin within — she Eyed the bellybutton-less section of her fine stomach where, for every other human being she had ever known to exist, always bore the scarred Navel. After mulling over the evident paradox of what she knew of the peculiar phenomenon of human birth and germination, Lina humphed to herself upon considering just how ironic the senseless life-process truly made her feel after gaining the type of Insight she had recently received. Flooded by horrid thoughts she couldn’t shake, Lina became extremely frustrated.

She couldn’t Imagine herself pregnant. She didn’t feel pregnant. But the Mother somehow knew for sure that the wise old man had been telling the Truth when he said that the two of them had recently bred. Al Rodnam’s All-knowing temperament coupled with his irksome slyness deeply bothered Magdalena. It scraped at her insides with an uncanny cunning, causing her to feel unendingly inadequate in the company of the guru. And she would not be able to admit to herself that, deep down, she was jealous of the old man.

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Lina’s day-dreaming suddenly ceased as she realized how uncomfortable she was propped up against the rough surface of the huge pallid stump that dug into her back most irritatingly no matter which way she shifted her posture. She ogled the ashen stump with irritation. Unconsciously, the Mother knew that Al Rodnam had very recently secretly abducted her, taken her to his South Pole Homeland, had his sacred Soma-laced Sperm discreetly artificially inseminated into her uterus, and used magic to make her forget the whole incident, much like he did during the Aqueous Transmission. But the Truth of this occurrence would not surface up into the Mother’s Consciousness.

Magdalena returned Head to sky and immediately noticed something ugly and much misshapen flying crookedly against the bloody horizon — just one single, solitary fat mass of a twisted creature all by its lonesome, aloof and seemingly undaunted in the High air. Lina didn’t jump or start at all; she kind of just focused in on the airborne creature indifferently, squinting her Eyes as she looked skyward, knowing instinctively she had seen this type of animal before.

It was a flying pig.

And this pig had worn-out, leather-like skin with dark welts and bulges, patches of filthy, unkempt hair in unassuming places, and tiny, little frayed wings that were rapidly flapping out of rhythm without one another, just barely able to lift the portly shape of its bearer aloft, causing severe unsteadiness in its seemingly oblivious advance.

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Magdalena arose at once and began to follow the deformed swine, her curiosity getting the better of her. Although the creature seemed to have no idea where it was headed, it looked as though it was moving along quite steadily, and she liked to see where it would end up.  Lina trailed the flying pig for almost a half an hour before, far ahead of her, she saw a shooting arrow fly speedily straight into the small wings of the airborne animal, straight-away sending the soaring swine plummeting downward toward Fucked-Earth and disappearing behind a massive ramshackle boulder in the distance. Magdalena took pursuit in that direction with increased fervor.

The closer she got to the huge boulder, the louder strange, muddled noises were heard coming from the other side of it. Nearing the source of the sounds, the Mother thought she was beginning to hear a frenzied clatter of greatly exaggerated hog howls. Lina’s Eyes widened. Her Heart picked up pace slightly in excitement, in awe of the whole situation transpiring. After plodding through the disheveled, upturned rubble and gravel that surrounded the massive boulder, she had finally made her way to the other side of it.

The Mother found herself confounded, staring perplexedly at loads of squealing freak swine rushing around the place frantically, the whole lot of them scurrying recklessly into one another hectically, each one insisting the pools of their soppy sweat be swapped with the next one that scampered on past. Rank odors of an uncanny porky smut were laced with loud, pathetic-sounding oinks of the most mindless demeanor, the noises mixing with the haze about the site that wafted in thick, potent fumes of near-toxic levels. Lina covered her mouth and nose with her mighty dress.

She caught sight of Al Rodnam then, a mere shadow in the near distance. He held a medium-sized, hand-crafted wooden bow by his side, and he was staring directly at Magdalena, his hair masking his face, his robes hung loosely about his frame. So eerie was the still image in the grey of the day that Magdalena for the first time actually felt genuinely frightened of Al Rodnam, the skin over her arms, up her shoulders and neck having just crawled so emotively that fat goosebumps instantly appeared across the surface of her skin. She became extremely lightheaded with a potent nausea, the whole of her upper body having fastly froze up for a frightening, brief moment that left her in a cold, Wicked daze.

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After that insane moment, she came to and involuntarily shook her whole torso back and forth so violently that she almost fell over. “Ugghh!!” her voicebox then released out into the air in disdain.

One particularly large, fat hog within the mad piggery that the Mother wanted to instantly flee from, disgustedly squealed out with an exceptionally loud emphasis then, and Magdalena turned to see Amrita pestering the pigs as it slithered beneath their missteps, raising up dust in its trails. The Mother’s pet sensed Lina’s presence, turned to her, and began slithering in her direction.

“I knew you’d come around sooner or later,” stated the snake as it slinked up to the Mother.

“Where did all these revolting creatures come from?” the Mother ventured after a brief moment.

“The sky, it would seem,” was Amrita’s reply.

They were located at one of the very edges of the Hollow Homefront, and all these flying pigs seemed to have gravitated toward this general direction, one by one. Al Rodnam was shooting them down here, in this place. He seemed to have been expecting them to come.

Magdalena stared on at the messy confusion before her, eventually coming to fall in a bedazzled daze as she became fixated with the mindless muddiness of the stupid hogs.

Shamefully, she noticed right then and there how akin the innate behavior of these wretched animals was to her ultimate nature.

She took a glance back to the old man but he was no longer there.

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“That would do it! All sixty-nine of them!” was the rather droll statement then over-enthusiastically made just behind Magdalena. The Mother turned quickly around and there was the guru. He smiled slightly at the Mother, sensing her deliberation, and before she could ask him a thing, Al Rodnam said “We will have use for the Blood Pigs in the near future, Mother. They will be our Lifeblood.” His smile was closed and ever-so-slight.

The Mother suddenly lit up, taking up a candid swagger. She pointed at him threateningly. “Look here, Mister Al Rodnam, I’m pretty sick of your shit. Your crazy little wizard games are driving me wild! Why do you have to be so secretive?” She reached up to clutch her temples with the lower parts of her palms and shut her Eyes tightly as she rolled them swiftly around impatiently. Then the Mother reached down, assumed a dual grip on the little old man’s shoulders, and lifted him clear off the ground, bringing him Eye-level with her. She shot a mean glare at the old man.

The mystic remained expressionless, a mute look over his face. “Very well, if you put me down, I will tell you whatever it is you need to know.” Lina paused, tilting her Head slightly to the side and narrowing her Eyes at the old man. Then she sighed and released him.

“What are these creatures and where are they from? Be straightforward! And tell the Truth!”

“These here are the Blood Pigs, my dear Mother,” simply stated Al Rodnam. “They are a part of what skulk in the sick pastures upon your dark side, my Mother. The dark side of the Moon.”

Lina raised her Head over at the pens where the despicable swine scrambled about and rapidly received a potent jolt of déjà vu. She shivered as her thoughts seemed to clearly project images of Mandorla in reminiscent succession and for the first time ever, Mother Magdalena all of a sudden felt scared of everything she knew to be anything at all. She had just caught the flash of a quick psychedelic vision and understanding of Nothingness.

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She looked back at Al Rodnam. “So how the Hell is it that we’ve mated already, I don’t remember us mating at all. Did you dose me on something?”

“No, I used a spell on you. I could not let you know where I was taking you.”

Lina started abruptly and blurted out loudly “I knew it!” She took her voice down a few notches. “Why?” pressed the Mother urgently with a harsh whisper that was barely contained as she tried to reason with the mystic very simply, a hand on her hot hip.

“My instinct. And I don’t even question my instinct.”

“Where did you take me?”

“I took you to the Andromeda Biodome,” lied Al Rodnam.

He had, of course, taken the Mother to his existential South Pole Homeland. The reason Al Rodnam had to conceal his course to his Immortal Earth Homeland involved a painful secret that the Mother Magdalena could never know: in order to warp to the perfect, precious time-space of his Enchanted Emerald site, the great guru — only Al Rodnam himself — had to first bypass the Inner-Earth Underworld that belonged solely to Amrita— the same place the Mother and her Hankerhawks came to every so often to recharge their powers. He did so through an underwater stargate that was located in the very pond that could replenish Magdalena with her thriving energies. This amazing, tropical world was exclusively Amrita’s, and, as such, the old guru would not feel secure there. It was indeed embarrassing for him even to admit to himself that he had to go through this world to get to his own; he could not Imagine the Mother ever finding out this secret.

Once casting a trance upon the serpent-crowned Mother Magdalena and bringing her through the Underworld Garden to his secret hide-out, the mystical Al Rodnam had selected the contents from one of countless jars of his personal plasma-preserved jars of sperm incubating with the Soma in the Sirian Space Crystals he kept by the calm pond that teleported him to the Inner-Earth Fountain of Youth, and promptly artificially inseminated it into the Mother’s uterus before bringing her back to Fucked-Earth Genesis á la Aquarian persuasion.

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“Why the Andromeda Biodome?” snapped the Mother.

“So that we could quickly sew the seed of the first Space-Grain!” again lied Al Rodnam. He lightly tilted his wizened Head to the side and squinted his Eyes at Magdalena. “That stuff is vital to the flow of things around here, you must know.”

Receiving a vision then, in beams of High Light, of her most desirable turnout of future events to occur at Bry Dellows, the Mother suddenly could not stop obsessively thinking about completely overtaking in every way the Spirit of the elusive man that eternally enigmatically entreated upon her corrupt countenance, that ever-watchful, perpetually present, most attractive man called Fletcher Munsin. She probed fixatedly over just when it would be that the full body of Fletcher Munsin would Cum around, knowing all too well how infuriatingly manic and bittersweet he would come to make her feel on all levels of Emotion.

She thought she didn’t realize why this was so.

But she did.

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[BY MIKE EYE]



Categories: Ascension, Consciousness, Cosmology, Current Events, Epic Fantasy, Fiction, Folklore, Goddess, Horror, Literature, Metaphysics, News, Poetry, Reality, Sci-Fan, Science Fiction, Speculative Fiction, Visionary Fiction

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