Doug Yurchey - Articles

The Prince and the Whipping Post
by Doug Yurchey

‘Augh!’

The pain was unbearable. Another lash tore into my back! Why did I do this? I could not believe my stupidity. What got into me to leave the castle? Was this all a game to get back at Mother, the Queen?

‘Aww!’

Once more, the snap of the lash cut into my skin. I was bleeding heavily now, but could not see the wounds. The entire ordeal was a nightmare.

I exploded in severe pain, ‘It was only a loaf of bread!’

My plea for mercy went unheeded as the muscular man in black struck me again.

‘Aaaaugh!’

The pain was too much. I fell in and out of consciousness. My mind tried to trace the sanity and found not a thread of righteousness in this act.

‘We were HUNGREY! We needed to EAT!’

More people gathered heaping their own individual type of pillory. Some were LAUGHING, laughing at me in my darkest moment. Some yelled obscenities and spat upon me. Some threw dirt and pebbles.

I had often looked through the castle windows and down the slight cliffs upon the simple villagers in the distance. I could not imagine what life here in town was like. I had to see that new world, a world so different from the plush palace I was accustomed to…I had to see the truth. I remember pitying the wretched lives of the villagers. If they only knew who I was.

Then, a little girl in rags threw a rock and struck me at the same time as the taskmaster’s whip. I cried because the small rock hurt more.

Another lash impact tossed blood in front of me now. My eyes beheld the red drops and I realized this was real. I refused to believe it. I could not cry out any more. I would not. I could not control them, but I could control myself. There were 33 more lashes to go!

All sense of time was lost. I blacked out. My body collapsed under the restrains. My head struck the wooden post. My mind continued…

I remember one of my childhood stories, one of Pheiffer’s many tales of woe. There were lessons in all of his bedtime stories. I became Clyssus at the brutal hands of the harpies. The harpies were constant torment; I was imprisoned for an eternity. I cried out, ‘Yes, I have sinned! But, I did not sin everyday! Why must you torture me everyday?’

I remember three days ago. I thought it was a daring, bold move…an adventure! I believed I needed the experience. That bloody, awful fight with Mother caused this to happen. I had to have hurt her deeply by leaving. I proclaimed my independence. Was it so wrong to grow up? Soon, she fell ill and I did not care. I resented her for the smothering protection during the course of my pampered, eighteen years.

What did I do? I ran away; I ran out of the secret passage they thought I knew not. What did I do? When she needed me most, I left. It was time for me to see the world, I thought. I put on peasants’ clothes. They were dirty, drab and had an odor. No one would recognize me. With mud on my face, I will wager not even Pheiffer could recognize me. I laughed.

I made my way passed the guards and down the slight cliff. I had nothing but my wits and bright, open eyes.

The first night was frightening as I entered the village. I was never this topographically low before. I was cold, but it was exciting. What was going to become of me? For the first time in my life, I did not know. Father has been in heaven for years now. What would he think of his son?

Then, I met…she said her name was Kate. Although, she seemed like she was lying. Could two kids really fall immediately in love? I have heard much talk about love.

She showed me her home. It was a back alley between two brick buildings. I smiled at the Spartan dead-end. Kate was a fascinating creature. Soon, the niche became my home as well. It was ours. She told me all of her secrets and I could not tell her any of mine.

Kate looked at me and knew. She knew everything about me. In my tattered clothes that were not mine, she knew the real me. We spent a lifetime together in that moment. She knew I was Prince John, heir to the throne of Maldavia.

We made love that night. The next day, we begged for food. We laughed at all the fools around us. They could not conceive of our happiness. We cried together. We planned revolution. What freedom! The Queen Mother’s court maidens to the dukes and duchesses could never believe their Prince in the dirty, village streets. What would Pheiffer think of my new love?

The third day in town was our last day together.

I watched for Pheiffer because today was the day he goes to market. He could appear anywhere and recognize my face. I must be giving them all a terrible fright. The guards would have been dispatched by now. They could be here any minute.

Suddenly, a horrible pain shot through my back! I fell to my knees and reached out for her. I had never experienced pain so great. She held me tighter. In time, the pain went away. She knew exactly what I needed and understood perfectly. I was fine; she was the cure and everything was perfect. I wanted this new life and never wanted to go back.

Could our happiness last? That evening we got hungry again. Villagers were tired of seeing us smiling kids and gave us no more food.

I told Kate that I will return and our stomachs would be filled. Hours later, I saw a light in the bakery window. Fresh bread was beyond the window and its smell was intoxicating.

I slowly and quietly approached the window. I grabbed the 3-foot loaf of bread and started to run. I did not get 10 paces when the baker’s son bolted out of door and caught me. He threw me to the ground. I was being punched in the face. Why did I think this was the first time that I ever felt pain?

He got up and began kicking me. This was not my universe. What was I doing here?

Then, the fat baker stopped the large boy. I was so thankful, but could not get my bloody mouth to function. I thought he was about to scold his son for the beating. Surely, the man could understand I meant no harm.

The baker said, ‘Stop boy! We ‘ave to do this legal like.’

I did not know what he was saying. I was happy to not be kicked.

‘Bring ‘em!’

The baker’s son did what he was ordered to do. I was brought before the magistrate. Instead of seeing to my wounds, they pronounced sentence. I was to be given 40 lashes by the taskmaster in black.

‘Augh!’

Pain brought me back to life. I was again at the whipping post within a hell I could not comprehend. The taskmaster raised his arm again. He hit me with a fierce blow that was harder than the others were.

More of a crowd gathered. Many threw small rocks and blasted me with obscenities. I felt alone and unloved. I screamed for…‘Kate!’

She was gone. I knew that now. I knew that I would never see her or touch her again. This was the end. Everything was lost; all was gone. I had everything I could have ever wanted, but I threw it all away. I desired to know what was down in the valley and up over the hills. What was out there and what tomorrow brings?

Or, did I only leave to hurt my Mother? No, that was not it…I loved my Mother. ‘I am so very sorry, Mother.’

I felt naked and almost was naked. After one more powerful blow of the whip, I knew I would bleed out and be gone too. The taskmaster raised his arm for the fortieth time. He will put all of his might into one last force. His arm came down!
His arm was BLOCKED. I saw through my tears…I saw through my tears and viewed a man that I recognized. Pheiffer stopped a strong arm from delivering the final blow.

‘My God man, this is Prince John!’

A few people screamed. It was real and not my imagination. He hugged me, untied my bonds and helped me to my feet. He put his clothes around me.

At that moment, the big cathedral bell sounded a loud ring. The reverberations washed though the village and the people stood still. This was the death toll to mark the passing of the Queen.

The Queen was dead.

The villagers gasped, collectively. Some dropped their rocks. They fell to their knees on the hard ground in front of their new King.

I was King.

[A story for the aliens].

[I did not write this story. It came from the aliens that operated through my ex-wife, the same aliens that were the source of the 13-point map. They wanted us to portray the story as if it was theatre. I remember they came a second time and again wanted us to act out the story. The play was staged in our living room. They would supply the virtual backgrounds FOR THEM. Worlds were watching.

To the best of my recollection, this is close to the story given to us 33 years ago. I have added and embellished things to make it a full story].

EXPERIMENT 4000
by Doug Yurchey

I was captured, aboard their spaceship. My eyes cleared as I became conscious. Only now was I aware of my surroundings. Was I abducted? Was it a dream? No, it really happened. I focused on the things around me. There was hardly anything around me in the silver, round room. There was the curved screen on one side of whatever this chamber was…is this a holding cell? Is it their idea of a lobby or waiting room? On the other side, across from the screen, was a niche. I have no concept of the niche’s purpose. There was the triangular coffee table that was, of course, not a coffee table.

What was my last memory? I was driving west to Los Angeles on I-70. I think I was in Arizona…or maybe I was still in Utah. Me and Eno, the cat, but…where’s Eno now? He’ll die without me. This was off the Interstate. I pulled off the Interstate, with the Jartran trailing and found my own rest stop. I couldn’t afford a U-Haul.

That spot! That spot was so beautiful. It might have been the most incredible place on Earth I had ever seen. It rivaled the night on Jekyll Island with the deer drinking from the pond in the shadow of the lighthouse. This was desert and Indian territory. Fantastic, red rocks plunged skyward from the warm desert floor. Not a soul was in sight. The peace I felt was overwhelming.

I got out of the car and fell upon a grassy area on the edge of a canyon river. The terrain was unbelievable to a suburban boy. I fell to the lush, green spot; it was an oasis in the red desert. I felt like I was inside a Maxfield Parrish painting; there was such a contrast between the clear, blue sky and the crimson shadows formed by these natural towers. I saw a mesa miles away, my first mesa.

I laughed with joy. My cat could also feel the total pleasure in the new environment. How could such a point of peace exist only a quarter mile from the Interstate? I felt like I stumbled upon an island utopia and it was all mine. It was The Beach.

Eno rolled in the grass then banged into me with an affectionate touch and loud purr. He ran to the river (I had never seen him bolt faster!) and drank the clear water as if we did this everyday. Then, I remember, he darted off into the wild! I knew he would come back the second I returned to the car. Any other time I took him out in nature, he would CRY like a little baby. Those were the only occasions I ever wished he was a dog. Cats are so superior. Any new environment terrified Eno. Being so cerebral, there was too much to think about. The cat cried and cried on the traumatic trip to LA. He screamed as his stable home was ripped away and suddenly, from the cat’s point of view, his whole world became a shaking (never-ending) elevator known as THE CAR.

But, now, kitty was feeling what I was feeling. This place was a natural wonder. There was no crying here. Were the red rocks magnetic? Was an energy vortex near? Was this the land of the Anasazi? The river reflected the bright blueness of the sky.

I laid back and made grass-angels. I was glad no one was watching me howling with laughter. It was good to be alive. I felt younger, filled with energy! It was also the exciting trauma of living on the east coast all your life and now transplanting yourself to the west coast. I felt like a kid again, without a care in the world. My aura was on fire. I felt like I was communicating with the gods again. But, I saw no god before me. I sighed with pure joy and happiness. Why couldn’t I get a place here in the middle of nowhere?

‘Hmmm, paradise never lasts…does it?’ I said aloud to the sky. I smoked my last joint. I thought, at least I smoked one in this cool place. Time slowed and my realm looked even better than it did. It was so sad that we had to leave. Although, I would remember this land by the water in the red desert. The shadows got longer. Eno was returning. He would be here in a minute. I remember looking at the rouge cliffs and picturing an Indian standing there from another time. Was I looking back at myself as one of the Anasazi? Was the old Indian seeing his future?

Then, I saw it. It moved in quick jerks across the sky. It was a disk…it was a…it was a flubbin’, flyin’ saucer! I jumped to my feet as it flashed to a position directly over me. This was different from the odd craft that buzzed me when I stopped not too far from Area 51. That was a long, black missile of a plane with what appeared as an antenna-cross for a tail. THIS WAS A SAUCER. This was round and it was right over me!

‘Eno!’ I yelled for my best friend. I saw him from a distance. Then, he wasn’t there anymore. It wasn’t my eyes. He disappeared.

That was when everything turned to WHITE.

I remembered all the pieces now. I knew who I was. This had to be inside the ship. I was on the floor of their silver room. There had been no communications. The big screen was blank. What do they want?

Right after I thought of the warped screen as a means of speaking to them, I was speaking with them.

The big screen ‘popped’ on and the electronic image of a small Grey with large black eyes communicated, Number 4000.

‘Huh?’ The creature’s tiny mouth did not move. It was telepathy.

I heard it communicate, again, Number 4000.

‘What? Is that supposed to be me?’ I asked. ‘What does that mean?’

You are the 4000th Earthling that our group has…

I got to my feet and finished its telepathic sentence. ‘…Taken off the Earth without permission, without any regard for human life, without an ounce of feelings…or compassion? You’re going to do some vile, godforsaken experiment just for the FREAK of it because you CAN do it…you know, just because you CAN do something, doesn’t mean you SHOULD do something! Ever hear of Human Rights? Ever hear of the Golden Rule…or, or of Karma, man? Ever hear of KARMA or the First Amendment? No, not the First Amendment…shit.’

You said we do not have permission?

‘Huh? Permission? Of course, you don’t have the right to…ABDUCT people, take them from their LIVES!’ Then, it hit me. ‘Four thousandth?’

We have a contract.

I was stunned and took a deep breath of artificial air. I wanted to pace, but there was hardly the room. Under my breath I whispered, ‘Contract?’

We are doing nothing outside of the LAW.

‘Who are you?’

We do not answer YOUR questions.

‘Yeah, I just heard that on Judge Judy…more fascism.’ I decided to not joke or make light of a situation that was completely out of my control. When you get pulled over by the cops, you better submit…if you know what is good for you. I changed my tune, thinking of the last two movies I saw; they were ‘Hostel’ and ‘Saw III.’ ‘OK…OK, what do you want? What do you want of me?’ Those notes were sincere.

That is a question we can answer.

I waited for the response as if pantomiming for the Grey to put forth the proper answer. I was frustrated with the pause and blurted out the first thing that entered my head. ‘Enzymes!’

At the same moment I said that, another one of the insect-like critters walked behind the first one and stopped in its little tracks. There was a strange exchange between them and now…for some reason, I had two Greys watching me on the curved/prison screen. I had their attention.

What else do you know, 4000?

One more time, I went with a sudden impulse. It was a ploy. I heard it was what EBE did when it was captured. It lied. ‘I know our government is planning to destroy one of your home worlds!’ I looked up and did some acting. ‘Let me see…I forget which one was targeted. Was it Zeta One Reticuli…hmmm, no…I think it was Zeta TWO Reticuli. Yeah, that’s it. That’s the… Well, I know that much.’

There is a 92% chance you are lying.

Now, I was really getting their attention. I noticed a third little bugger entered the scope of the screen. I played it cool. I calmly sat on the triangular coffee table and said, ‘And…and an 8% chance I am telling the TRUTH.’ I smiled. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing.

They talked among themselves for a race that does not talk. Now, a fourth one entered the wide screen.

‘I’m popular. Can I ask what you guys are discussing?’

The Greys kept silently chattering away. The first one waved its small arm back to me and I heard what I did not want to hear. Your death, disposal…how we shall kill you and your final demise. Does that answer your question?

I FREAKED. The emotional display was not a pleasant aspect of my character. After I pulled myself together, I asked, ‘Where’s my cat? Eno…can I see him?’

They told me the bad news as a cold, cold butcher without any concern for the cow he had just slaughtered. I wept and thought of that wonderful moment we had in the red canyons and the ‘freedom’ inside those feelings…that even the feline shared. I was crazed. I gave up. I thought…at the very least, I was given that beautiful moment in the desert. It felt like the first time you experienced love. That did not have to happen.

Was the decision to pull off the Interstate a final gift before a lamb is slaughtered? Wait…wait…it was the decision to pull off I-70 that CAUSED this! Would it have happened anyway? There has to be an answer. Now, five aliens stared at me as I gazed back at them. Which one was going to blink? I never liked poker. I played TONK.

I said, ‘there MUST be something…some…some ESCAPE clause? Right?’

The first one answered me with a quick, psychic response. There is.

‘What?’ Did I hear a ring of hope? Was there a way home? ‘Wait…what are you telling me? You DO have a way I can earn my freedom, go back to Earth?’

Yes. Yes. Of course. We do.

Was MY psychic senses amplified onboard the spaceship? I felt like I anticipated every answer before it was said…before it was thought. ‘Well?’

You must…

‘I know. I have to answer three questions?’

I heard psychic GASPS. More Greys entered the curved picture. There were nine or more looking at me. Their big, black eyes seemed even larger.

‘What are the…’

What is your name and when were you born?

‘Wait! Hold up! That’s TWO questions. I KNOW those! You’ve asked…your ‘group’ has asked this ONE question to your last 3999…speci…no, CAPTIVE prisoners?’

Yes. You have not answered the first two questions.

‘Douglas Stephen Yurchey and I was born on May 5, 1951. But, I could have said anything.’

There is a 99% chance 4000 is telling the truth. You have answered correctly.

‘Wait…if I answer the next question correctly…You DON’T kill me and I can go back home?’

Yes. The question is…

‘WAIT! Did you ask this of the others? The other 3999…could also win their freedom?’

Yes.

I came out with the first thing I could think of. ‘How many got it right?’

None of them, was the alien’s telepathic reply.

It was a hard pill to swallow. What could the question be?

I was dumbfounded, speechless. I felt fear. I could not act anymore. I was merely reacting. So far, I was still alive. I always knew I was different. Maybe I shouldn’t panic. Maybe I should let the fear roll off me. Strange, how this almost seemed like a déjà vu. Oh yeah, I have been in tougher situations. Maybe I’ll know the question. I took a big breath. I tried to center myself and relax. I asked it. ‘What’s the third question?’

How did your human race come to be on Earth?

Their small mouth-slits almost appeared to smile evil smiles. What was this, a sick war game? How long has my kind been at war with their kind that it has to come down to something like this? Since Roswell? Their ‘contract’ was with the government. They thought they HAD ME…exactly as they HAD the other 3999…got’m by the balls, right? I received a rush of thoughts that could explain the thinking of my under 4-foot, grey overlords. They would not destroy and dissect a human specimen, take their enzymes, if that subject demonstrated a certain level of intelligence. The question of human origin was the Greys’ measuring stick. What creature in existence DOESN’T know where they came from? Surely, all INTELLIGENT life forms know for sure their genesis…their one, true genesis.

I received flashes of the other people that came before me, even inside this same room. When the troll at the bridge ESPed the last question, the humans on the hot seat had to guess the one correct answer for their very lives! What did the others say? The evolutionists must have danced on about Darwin, natural selection and the survival of the fittest. That did not work. And, the God-thumpers must have prattled on and on about their God of Love and how He created us all. That did not save their asses from these colorless, grey Judges with the power of life and death. Guaranteed there were some Von Danikenists that proposed the idea that aliens changed one group of primates and accelerated their evolution to become the human race. That did not win them their freedom either.

So, these aliens will think nothing of killing the ignorant and using every gene in their body (I heard it was for reproductive experiments). But, if you showed a spark of brain potential…then they might let you live and hang around awhile. The bastards! Who do they think they are? They’re not God! And, they are not acting as good gods.

I experienced minutes as if my life had flashed before me. Actually, only seconds had passed since the first Zeta (that appeared) asked the ultimate question. It was about to use its telepathy again.

I cut it off with a quick question, ‘I know the answer. But, before I tell you the answer…’

There is an 89% chance Number 4000 is telling the truth! More psychic gasps were expressed by the aliens. The screen was completely filled with large, grey heads.

I continued, ‘…I have a question for you…’

The readings indicate…you know the answer! There is a 64% chance you will win and we must return you to Earth and accommodate our deal.

‘Who are you, really?’

We are YOU in the far future. For your own survival, you will be doing exactly what we are doing…and you will be doing it to us.

‘Huh?’

I saw the first Zeta wave his hand over a crystal control. A ray emanated out of the niche, behind me. I lost the last minute of my life forever. I was teleported to them in the main body of the craft. But, it seemed like I was not in the spaceship.

I was center stage in a huge, round, alien amphitheater. Many thousands of Zetas occupied the circular, silver audience. The place was packed. This could not have been aboard the disk that hovered over my head. This was a part of their home world or a part of a virtual, communications projection to their home world. Nevertheless, they knew I had the answer and wanted me to…tell them in person, I guess. This was a big occasion for them…apparently. I heard their version of psychic applause. I felt the worst was over. I felt as if I had won the big prize on The Price Is Right. Some of the Zetas were cheering. Was I a hero to a few of them? Or, was this a sham mockery and I’m just not getting it? (It’s a cookbook).

I actually recognized the little bastard that walked up to me as the first one I saw on the screen. Oh NOW they’re honoring me, I thought. A minute ago, I was going to be chopped liver.

No chopped liver, Douglas.

‘Doug.’ I smiled and waved to the grey crowd, knowing I waved to a hologram (for the most part).

The Zeta, in front of me, was all smiles for a tiny slit of a mouth. It was as if I was HIS discovery. I suppose they have already probed me and I was somewhat of a circus freak. If they only knew…maybe, they know that this was not my first encounter with aliens.

I guess the little guy here was now my agent. He asked me formally and, possibly, to the rest of his double-planet home world, How did your human race come to be on Earth? I felt like when I was in third grade and sent to the sixth grade for a few minutes to recite all the presidents that I had memorized. Or, when I won the Spring Sports Award wearing bellbottoms.

I did not hesitate. ‘The human race landed 60,000 years ago, before my time and built a base high in the Andes Mountains later known as Tiahuanco. From there, they surveyed the Earth and established a main power-plant pyramid on a large continent in the Atlantic Ocean as well as 12 other colonies circling the planet in a WORLD GRID. Humans were created as the caretakers for the maintenance of Utopia’s power because of their biological, reproductive qualities and their adaptive capabilities to changing situations. The Atlantis Utopia lasted tens of thousands of years; this was Eden…all based on tapping into the natural, Electro-Magnetic forces of the planet for wireless energy…the same principle that Tesla basically tried to give to the people of Earth at the beginning of the 20th Century…’

There were moans, groans, cheers and psychic applause from the alien crowd. Obviously, no Earthling had ever given this particular answer. It was the precise answer they had been looking for and MORE. In fact, it seemed as if I knew a few things they did not! Had I just become their god or was I merely a passing fad to be forgotten in the next fifteen minutes? But, something was wrong. The aliens were FIGHTING in the audience. I had gained sudden supporters and they clashed with my detractors.

I was the cause of the chaos. Many DID want to dispose of me. Were even these advanced beings ruled by their fears? Some wanted me dead, some wanted to learn from me and wanted to know what I knew. Some aliens wanted to abide by the rules as a code of honor; they demanded that I be set free to live a life back on Earth. The fighting consisted of psychic wars. Objects were telekinetically flung at groups of Greys! Others realized the disruptive force (me) had to go, while other Zetas insisted on studying me. A resolution had to be found immediately.

A few rushed the center stage and invisible fingers grabbed me. They wanted to tear me apart! My alien agent tried its best to protect its property, but there were too many of them calling for my BLOOD! What kind of a grand prize was this? I blacked out…

The next thing I knew was hardly anything. I barely had any motor skills at all. I was back on Earth and it was the weekend. It was time to play tennis with the gang. I will go play tennis with the gang. I will go play tennis with the gang. I will go…
Michael is my handler. He is an invisible Lemurian with a large Mohawk. He is an imposing figure with muscles. He dresses in black leather. No one can see Michael but me. I can’t tell anyone about Michael.

I made my way to the courts. Michael drove the old car. I walked on to the courts off Sherman Way. Michael told me where to sit for my turn to play. I could almost remember a few things. I did not know these peoples’ names or recognize their faces, but somehow I knew that they knew me. And maybe…it had been some time…maybe a very long time…since I had been back to play as one of the gang.

Michael told me to respond to Bill. Everyone had been staring at my head. They had never seen me BALD before without one hair on my head. They had never seen the long gash across my skull and all the strange stitches.

Bill sat down next to me. He sounded concerned when he said, ‘Doug, what the HELL happened to your hair?’

MY BRAIN. My brain was preserved under glass within a protective shell on center stage of that same silver amphitheater, the real one. My brain was on the aliens’ home world. Zeta students, admirers and aficionados using their mental and tech computers, stored the information that emanated from the two hemispheres of brain matter.

We pull back from the brain itself to see throngs of Greys and a few other types of aliens that were present within the amphitheater today. The wars were over. The Anti-Dougs need not attend the lectures. Zetas have heard from the Tesla brain, Einstein brain, Fuller brain, etc. Yurchey always wanted an audience…and now he has one.

We pick up talk 714 in its 15th hour. The disembodied brain on a Zeta pedestal broadcasts:

The Zimbabwe Stones that we see in the architecture of the Great Complex and surrounding grid patterns of sub-sub stations…indicate a striking similarity to Machu Picchu stonework…5000 miles away. You CAN place a knife blade between the building blocks. This was not of the highest order of construction such as the EARLIER Incan, Pre-Incan and Super-Incan…those that traveled at light-speed, had no hieroglyphs and could move stone in the hundreds of tons! No…what stands at Zimbabwe and at Machu Picchu comes from (the same time and) a LATER time period. It was the later time period that was not as great as the Age that preceded it. We can presume that monoliths of about 100-tons once existed at Zimbabwe…but now, no longer exists…a question?

How can you make a case for its nonexistence?

Because of that special Zimbabwe location, that GRID position connecting it with Stonehenge, the Great Pyramid and Easter Island…that area supported super humans that worked in stones of that magnitude…then, many were vaporized out of existence!

Doug…did you know, in your time, that there was geological evidence for the Australian tectonic plate to have slipped far south just as you predicted? END

SHARP

ROOM AIR CONDITIONER

MODEL; AF- R100FX-A by Doug Yurchey

It was as if someone turned up the ‘fear factor’ in the neighborhood. John saw the police helicopter circling above his apartment building. He heard the loud barks from the pit bull next door. The dog from hell would not stop his incessant howling at the flying object. Or, was something else driving the pooch to frenzy? It was a hot night.

John felt and saw evidence of tension. He looked out of his one-room apartment’s window. What has spooked the neighborhood? He observed car lights flashing. He did not hear sirens, although it seemed as if the police prowled the area. What could account for this feeling in the air? This was going to be a bad night, one of those crazy nights.

Something was going to happen; John just knew it. The events were far from a burglar evading the spotlights of a police helicopter. He could feel it in his bones.

CRASH! What the hell was that? One lone, blue candle lit his solitary room. It cast eerie shadows, especially tonight. On the other side of the small closet came a bang. John’s mind ran through the possibilities of what the sound could have been. He also considered the possibility that there was no noise.

Fear…paranoia grabbed the man. He had to sit. The air was warm. Strange thoughts entered John’s mind. He thought a killer might barge through his door and kill him! That dog, that damn dog won’t stop barking! The pit bull never howled continuously like this before. What did it mean? Nostradamus said May 10^th.

Suddenly, a person ran past his window. John had to jump up, open the door and see what was happening. It was Gomez. He lived three rooms down. Gomez ran like a maniac being chased by a bigger, invisible maniac. John took off after him.

‘You hear it, senior?’

‘What are you doing? Gomez!’

‘Oh, it’s bad tonight, amigo. Can you feel it?’

Gomez was frantically trying to climb the high fence between the apartment building and the neighbor’s yard. The dog, hearing the maniac, went CRAZY!

‘No! What the freak are you doing?!’

The pit bull never really experienced an invader into ‘the yard from hell.’ That’s what the tenants called the yard across from the apartments. The dog from hell was there for that very purpose, to guard against intruders. No one would ever actually dare enter such protected territory. Gomez made his way to the top of the fence.

‘No! Don’t DO that!’ John yelled. ‘You’re setting him off!’

He was nearly at the top. Gomez appeared to want to clear the fence. ‘Senior, do you not hear it? They have turned up da machines, driving me crazy!’

‘What?’

The dog from hell jumped higher and higher as if he was on a trampoline. His dinner attempted to invade his space.

‘They’re out ta get me, amigo. They’re here! Ya, ya, ya!’ Gomez now noticed the dog’s jumping jaws and reacted.

‘Get down. Gomez! No one is there using machines.’

The Mexican tenant jumped to the ground. The lucky man came down on this side of the fence and not the other. Jaws was denied a feast.

‘What is wrong with you?’ John asked as he tried to make sense out of this night.

‘They will come for you, senior. You’ll see, you’ll learn.’ Those were his last words to John. Gomez disappeared down the alley and into the deep, dank city.

John returned to his building. He wanted to believe the dog was only barking at the helicopter and Gomez. That was all there was to it. The police helicopter continued its endless wide circle above the one-room apartments. John’s building was directly below one portion of the orbit. He could hear the loud pass, above him, and then in 40 seconds was another…and another. He thought his life was just as monotonous.

His hairs tingled at the top of the dark, hallway steps. John stood there in the emptiness. He was at his door, but did not proceed inside the room. He turned to the steps and the bleak opening. John imagined demons, ghosts coming into materialization. Were there invisible forces that could take physical forms and have a real effect on the living? Was one of them walking up the steps? Could ghosts touch you, could they strangle you? Was he living a dark nightmare?

John took a good look at the black archway and thought a ghost might appear. Were these only his fears? Two hours earlier, he had watched a scary episode of ‘Lost’ with an invisible force called ‘Jacob.’ Was he now lost in fear? Was John perceiving his own personal demons as Gomez had sensed his terror?

The hellhound maintained its roar from the yard from hell. John thought maybe ‘this was hell.’ There were all the signs he was doing time in prison. Life never seemed to change. It did not appear to change for the better. ‘Why go on?’ had often circled John’s subconscious life. Did someone, some group, a government plot really turn up the tension?

Is Gomez partially correct? Are there machines that could increase the fear in a particular area…you know, where they beam the ray? Are we monkeys in federal cages and it’s all one big experiment? Are the Powers That Be watching, monitoring?

John made it into his room. He did not know what to do or where to go. He was trapped. He wanted to run into the night without a care. There was nowhere to go; it was after midnight. It still felt like Wednesday. He never liked Wednesdays. Whatever was wrong was intensifying. Whatever was wrong…was coming.

John sat in his chair, but did not feel safe. It was hot. It was too hot. He reached for the remote of his air conditioner. That will cool things off and clear the air. John was stunned. He froze; he just sat there looking at his dark door. He shook in utter horror and despair. What was coming? Was this it? Was he going to die?

The blue candle created dim patterns on the wall. They took on the shape of a flickering gallery watching the non-action within the room. John was more frightened. He panicked. His stark terror accelerated toward a crescendo.

A ghostly wisp of white threads collected in the air. The demon formed. Everything that was wrong with the world…everything that was wrong with this nutty night…materialized and took shape…inside John’s room. It grew larger. It was FEAR. This was an encounter with his fear. This was a good, hard look into a mirror.

He remembered a time in college when young John took acid and spent a night in a graveyard. Was the flashback because something was coming to kill him? Was he quickly approaching the end of his life? That long night in an old graveyard by the lake ended very well. John meditated in front of gravestones from the 1700s. He was also fearful, to say the least. He knew that on that 1970 night…something would happen in a very short while. John did not know if a UFO would appear over the lake; or a ghost would walk out of their grave. In that moment of clarity…the SUN ROSE. Morning came, light destroyed all fears and John cried uncontrollably in happiness.

Why did he think of that now, when he was being attacked by a hot (negative) unknown? His finger inadvertently hit the remote button of the SHARP air conditioner; model AF-R100FX-A. The ‘bink’ sound was heard. The ghostly collection of wispy streams in the air was suddenly caught in the strong airflow. The conditioner pasteurized, homogenized the ‘bad’ and sent it screaming out of the room!

Suddenly, the dog stopped barking and the police helicopter was gone. John went to the window and saw a much calmer town. The tension and fear were gone. Everything was cooler now. It was going to be all right now. John was thrilled and smiled. He was happy to be alive. He enjoyed his air conditioner.

- end -

TALKING TO A SEA-MONKEY

by Doug Yurchey

I walked into class with the strangest feeling. Something was not right with the world. I can only describe this sensation as a tingling all over my body. It was as if I was being pulled away; and, at any moment, I could dissolve into nothingness. It was very strange.

I sat down in my seat and did the usual routine of secretly desiring Debbie, ignoring the pre-class antics of Mike and hiding the fact that I was chewing gum. Mr. Lennox did not allow gum in his Philosophy classroom. Debbie was hot. Mike pissed me off. I looked forward to this little session because it was my turn to tell everyone about my most recent dream.

As I settled in, my thoughts were: How could I publicly speak with this overwhelming feeling of doom? I got rid of the gum.

'David?' Mr. Lennox asked. 'Are you all right?'

My college mates turned toward me as I tried to create a normal face.

'Huh? Oh, yes. Sure.'

'We ended last time with you about to describe your last dream.'

I cleared my throat. The sensation that I was fading fast was getting stronger.
What the hell was it? Why do I suddenly feel different? I fought the urge and started to speak. 'Well, I forgot most of it.'

Mr. Lennox assured me with, 'Do the best you can. Make it short and sweet.'

'It was about God...' That got everyone's attention. 'I dreamt that God was an old man who worked in a lab and punched in and out everyday.'

Mike jumped in and sang, 'What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us…’

‘Ha, ha.’

The teacher frowned, the class laughed and then I continued. 'OK. God whipped up the whole universe in a test tube.' I heard a few girls react. 'Yeah, that's when... Ah.......that's when...he turned off the lights in the lab and went home for the night. Like...like.........he...he didn't even care....about us……..like.......'

Something so intense hit me full force. The tingling took me away. I was gone! I could just imagine my classmates’ faces seeing me disappear.

For a second, there was blackness. Was this death? Am I dead now? There must be more to death than this. Then, it was as if someone turned bright lights on.

I opened my eyes. I was lying on a table in a room that had some kind of bizarre lighting. I sat up and saw two small, young creatures close to the table. I could tell that one was female and one was male. They were blue with larger than normal heads and no mouths. They were beautiful. Their large eyes contained a look of pure surprise.

YOU DID IT, SHILL. INCREDIBLE.

The alien, blue girl pointed to a button on a hand-held device with one of her four fingers. I heard an electric spark, as I seemed to decompress or normalize with this new environment.

YES. IT WORKED. THIS IS A FIRST.

The little girl appeared to be smiling; which was hard to tell with her having no mouth.

I said, 'What's going on? Hey, you're speaking without moving...your.....your...you know...' Of course, no mouth creatures would be psychic. I could hear them as clear as a bell.

I looked around and saw the interior of a bright, sleek, white, superstructure. There were corridors with unknown equipment, windows into other fantastic rooms, but no life forms other than these two children.

The girl thought to me and I heard: ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

'Yes.' I touched myself to see if I was all here. 'I feel…amazing. Wonderful!' I leaped off the table and I scared them with this action. They backed away. I smiled and calmed down. As my feet hit the hard floor, I realized that I was twice their size. 'No, I wouldn't hurt you. Where am I? What is this place?'

The blue boy appeared to communicate: THIS IS WHERE WE ATTEND SCHOOL, SCIENCE ACADEMY.

The blue girl finished his thought. ...OF PHILOSOPHIC THOUGHT.

'Huh,' I exhaled with fascination. 'Oh, my name's Dave, David.'

DAVEDAVID?

'Just David,' I laughed.

I AM SHILL6135452

I AM BU2215464

'And…I mean, what is this world?’

They looked at each other. She suggested with a small wave of her arm, WE CAN SHOW YOU OUTSIDE.

'Please do.' I attempted to search for an exit. It seemed as if it would take forever to leave the superstructure. It was the size of many cities. I was puzzled. Was a jet-car going to pick us up?

NO JET-CARS.

I have to watch my thoughts, I thought.

THIS WAY. She waved her blue hand and boom....we were outside! Reality changed like switching hologram programs on Star Trek's holodeck. We were now on what appeared to be a golden, mountain peak. All of nature was perfect angles. The surrounding shapes were golden geometrics as if I was a speck on a huge cluster of pyrite crystals. There was a cool, exhilarating wind.

'My God.' I was getting dizzy because of the view. I looked down. We were miles high and I had a slight sense of vertigo. The spinning stopped. My ears balanced. Then, I was aware of great peace. I felt the light all around us. Something emanated through the air; it felt very, very nice. I smiled and asked, 'That's from your sun?'

NO. WE HAVE NO SUN…ONLY THE RAYS.

THIS WORLD IS NOTHING LIKE YOUR UNIVERSE.

'I see…I think.'

THE RAYS ARE OUR SOURCE OF ENERGY. THROUGH THE CRYSTALS. THIS IS HOW WE ARE NOURISHED, they both seemed to communicate.

'So, you don't...eat? What am I saying? How could you? Ha, ha, you know…no mouth, ha.' Then, a thought struck me, 'There's no food for me?'

SHILL asked, ARE YOU HUNGRY?

'No.'

YOU WILL ALWAYS BE ENERGIZED.

'Really? And this is because?'

THE RAYS. THEY GO ON FOREVER.

Again, I took in the incredible view; such color; such majesty. These children were gods. They did not respond to that adjective. They just did their thing in this new world of ultimate beauty. What a frikkin' view from up here. There was a tear leaking from my right eye. I wiped it away. This was too much for me. George Lucas couldn't imagine something like this.

GEORGE WHO?

'Oh, you don't know'm?' I asked quickly.

The blue kids shook their large heads in a sincere NO as I smiled, then laughed. They didn't get the joke.

'What do you know of my world?'

The boy called BU stated proudly, IN YOUR GALAXY, THERE EXISTS, CURRENTLY, 719233245 INTELLIGENT CIVILIZATIONS ON 10 LEVELS OR DIMENSIONS. VERY SOON, THERE WILL BE ONE MORE. LIFE IS GROWING...'

I was in awe. I hated to stop this cold computer of a child, but I interrupted with, 'No, no...I mean Earth, my planet, my people? What do you know of humans, you know?'

SHILL and BU were blank. They didn't know of Americans, Chinese, Japanese, Africans, Russians, Europeans and the other types of Earthlings.

'If I asked you big questions like what's going to happen in the 21st Century?'

WE WOULD NOT KNOW.

SHILL admitted, WITH OUR VIEWSCOPES, THE CLOSEST WE CAN ACTUALLY SEE IS PLANETS FROM A DISTANCE. WE CAN SCAN FOR LIVING ORGANISMS, BUT...TO PREDICT SOCIAL EVENTS WITHIN YOUR...VILLAGES? She was unsure of that last thought and looked at BU. WE CERTAINLY DO NOT KNOW. WE STUDY THE BIG PICTURE, PLANETARY AND SOLARSYSTIC DESTRUCTION.

WE DO NOT INTERACT OR INTERFERE, thought the boy to me.

'Oh, OK,' I said through my sheer pleasure.

I inhaled a wonderful breath of clean, prana-filled air. Then, I got a little bold. I checked out the distant bottom as I carefully neared the edge and observed over it. Wow, was my only thought. I saw pockets of white matrix among the gold towers. I pointed. 'Were we inside one of those areas?'

YES, DAVID.

'Who are you people?'

The royal blue children with no mouths and large eyes stared at each other a moment. REPHRASE PLEASE.

'Do you have a collective name? I know you're not Klingons.'

WE HAVE NO COLLECTIVE NAME. ONLY INDIVIDUAL DESIGNATIONS.

'You know my language?'

WE KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS.

The other one continued, SOME OF THEM ARE UNKNOWN TO US AS I AM CERTAIN SOME OF OUR THOUGHTS ARE UNKNOWN TO YOU.

'I'm hearing them in English...that's my language.'

OF COURSE.

I smiled. I had to sit down. I rested on golden ridges that were perfectly straight. It was softer than I imagined. My head slightly shook from side to side, overwhelmed at the enormity of it all. This was much better than Philosophy class. 'Am I dreaming? Am I dead?'

YOU WERE...REMOVED. TAKEN FROM YOUR WORLD BY A MACHINE THAT SHILL JUST INVENTED.

'So, they did see me disappear,' I said to myself.

PREVIOUSLY, WE COULD ONLY VIEW YOUR WORLD...AS WELL AS AN INFINITE NUMBER OF OTHER UNIVERSES.

BU interjected, THIS IS THE FIRST TIME WE HAD THE CAPABILITY TO EXTRACT A LIVING SPECIMEN AND ENLARGE.

YES. YOU ARE MANY, MANY, MANY TRILLIONS OF TIMES LARGER THAN BEFORE THE EXTRACTION.

'What!?'

The pair again looked at each other. I stood up quickly and nearly lost my balance.

'Are you saying...thinking to me, that you are giants?

SUPERGIANTS WOULD BE MORE ACCURATE.

'Can you…really? This is all too much for…all right. What about returning me?'
There was a silence of thought that made me feel uncomfortable. 'You know, am I going to be unabducted? Returned to Earth?'

BU stopped in his little tracks. He gave his partner the big eye. SHILL?

The girl reluctantly related to me that that part of the process was not exactly worked out yet. This was a one-way trip. I was not going home anytime soon.

'Well, what I've seen of the place, so far, taint bad. Your crystaline planet, or whatever it is, is beautiful.' I inhaled another breath of delicious air. Then, all of a sudden, I was worried. 'What's to become of me? Are you going to experiment on me? Cut me open? Probe me; see what makes me tick?'

NO.

It sounded like they were laughing.

LET US GO BACK TO THE SCHOOL LAB, she directed.

'Sure.' I was cooperative.

With a wave of a blue arm, we were instantly back in the large, sleek room of white equipment. I was almost used to these reality changes. We were in a different section with rows and rows and rows of tables. On the tables, I assumed were scientific experiments. One after another after another stood rounded containers. They appeared to be spherical fish tanks.

'What's in the...' I moved closer to one of the crystal balls. I stopped, frozen in disbelief. 'No way.' My face got right up against one of the things on the table. 'It's a...it's a...'

YOURS IS OVER HERE, BU told me. We walked a few steps and passed over a dozen experimental orbs until we came to a particular one.

I examined it with care and saw an intricate lattice of light within the crystal ball. At first, I thought it was a big, bright, colorful snowflake. Now, I realized these were worlds, entire universes in their school lab. Like we would dissect a frog, they made Big Bangs! 'These are galactic clusters.'

YES, SHILL thought to me coldly and matter-of-factly.

‘But, you’re…kids. My universe…my universe is your science-project.’ I was dumbfounded. ‘Like erupting volcanoes in school…’

WHAT? BU asked.

'My God, you're God. And I'm brine shrimp,' I said to the small, blue humanoids.

WE CAN MAGNIFY. SHILL placed her hand over a console that was connected to this particular, round experiment. She ignored my 'God' comment and continued working invisible controls. The image inside the sphere kept changing. She displayed a certain part of the snowflake inside the clear, crystal ball. A particular galaxy came into view and then a star system was seen. She focused down to a singular planet. It was Earth.

YOU RECOGNIZE HOME? she asked.

'Yes, c-certainly,' I said in amazement. 'But how…how...long have you been making universes…Big Bangs?'

BU inquired, IN YOUR YEARS? THE NUMBER IS SO LARGE AS TO HAVE NO MEANING TO YOU.

SHILL thought, WE EXIST IN DRASTICALLY DIFFERENT TIMES.

'So, you mean...in one of your seconds...'

CIVILIZATIONS RISE AND FALL...IN YOUR WORLD.

I felt the beginning of a headache. I was confused. All this information in such a short time was too much. I was on the verge of overload. If these gods were children, what were their parents like and what have the ADULTS accomplished? 'Who…who created you?’

After a short moment, SHILL thought to me: YOU WOULD NOT UNDERSTAND THE ANSWER.

I'll bet. I got a twinge of vertigo again. My legs buckled and I nearly fell down. This was way too much data for me to compute. A half hour ago, I was in class fantasizing about Debbie. Now, I discover God wasn't an old man. God was a little girl and our entire universe was a science project growing under a microscope. I had to say something. 'But…billions of people pray to you.' I felt about to cry. I looked into SHILL's big eyes. 'You created life.'

BU stepped forward. THAT WAS ME.

'Huh?'

SHILL explained, I GREW YOUR NATURE, GALAXIES, STARS, PLANETS AND MOONS. BU2215464 ADDED THE SPARK OF LIFE. HE WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR GROWING THE VARIETY OF LIVING CULTURES.

My head pounded. I got angry. 'Responsible! But, you're NOT responsible! You don't know what you're doing. We live out our lives, struggle to survive. We look to you. We seek the Creator and answers to the meaning of life! And...and...this is the answer! This is it!!' I screamed.

They did not understand. The kids were puzzled at my emotion. Each looked at me curiously not knowing what to communicate.

'You have to stop! Don't you two see this is wrong?!’ I SLAMMED my fist on the table not realizing the repercussions. The crystal ball that was my universe jumped from its fixture, rolled off the table and fell to the floor. It shattered into pieces.

Smoke, nucleic goo and an odd smell were produced. A strange stain now was present on the sterile, white floor. That mess was David’s entire universe.

I destroyed the world!

LIFE'S END

by Doug Yurchey