All posts by Linden Morningstar

About Linden Morningstar

Linden Morningstar, author of Gloria Rising, has had extensive experience as a hypnotherapist and licensed marriage and family therapist, which adds depth and realism to his story. He is also the author of The Starlight Prophecy, a science fiction and fantasy novel about alien worlds and super heroines. He writes to explore the mysteries of life and the mysterious connections between the mind, universe, and the mystical. He lives with his cherished wife and four cantankerous, high-maintenance, and lovable cats in southern California.

Gloria Has Three Eyes

automatic writing, childhood trauma, hypnotherapy, supernatural

Gloria Rising pgs. 62-64

AUTOMATIC LETTER 48

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

I’d better put down dreams just had before I forget the whole thing.
One was a weird experience – a child is looking for his mother and she
is nowhere to be found but while she walks around searching, she meets
several other people and each of these people ask for directions – the child
points to different streets and they go along but always leave before she has
a chance to ask where his mother is.
Then something strange happens, the child sees a volcano and coming
from there is what looks like an angel. He’s running toward the child, he
approaches and tells her not to be worried and put his hand out toward the child’s forehead and tells her, “Well look at you! Now you have three eyes.”
I am looking at the child, I see Gloria and she really has three eyes – one
in the middle of her forehead. The volcano erupts and we’re running but
the fire doesn’t seem to come our way – I see a house and I grab Gloria
and head for it – there’s a golden key in the door and it turns easily but
slowly – it is filled with a family – I look at them, children, parents, and
others and Gloria starts to talk to someone she calls “mother” – her mother
tells her, “I have always loved you, I still do,” and Gloria answers, “Do you
know I love you too?” The mother says, “Yes, my child, you have proved it
always.” – there the dream focuses on others in the family – I try to come
to understand the specific needs of each member of this family and to
accommodate the need as well as it is possible – Gloria is helping me and
others start to help us – when a child cries someone is there to hold his
hand, to hug him or talk with him; when a child stumbles someone always
comes to help him up – when he mourns someone mourns with him –
there is immense comfort in this group of people – a social order and we
know that this caring is helping them to survive – it’s a good feeling – till
we hear footsteps approaching the house – everyone is saying things like,
“Don’t worry,” – “Don’t be afraid,” – hammering fists against the door –
kicking – shouting – the door stays closed. I see Gloria – she still has her
three eyes and strangely there is fear in two eyes only – I am petrified with
fear – the door opens and someone walks up to Gloria, yanks her to her
feet and drags her into the yard, saying, “Next time you’ll remember not to
put ideas into children’s heads – cry, mourn, laugh – well I’ll teach you,” –
he’s carrying Gloria (who is never a little child herself) under his arm like
a sack of grain. He’s striding across the dark yard to the pigeon house – he
fumbles with the lock, opens the door and yells, “Inside, you can stay with
the birds until you learn to obey me.”
The strangest thing happens all I can see of Gloria are her eyes flashing
and there’s fear in two eyes but one (the third eye) is twinkling and
winks at me – this is where I start to feel “it’s all over” – and then I’m in that
pigeon house – hammering my fists against the door – frantically shouting and screaming and suddenly the shack is filled with the sound of frightened
birds slamming against me.
I don’t want to remember any more of this dream- too many emotions
that I’m not sure of are going on in me – will talk to you later – help, please.

Gloria’s Helper 

 

A Guardian Angel Appears

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, supernatural

Gloria Rising pgs. 56-58

AUTOMATIC LETTER 44
Wednesday night

Dear Adam,

Thanks for gently turning us around, we were trapped – in an emotional
dead end – stuck in an emotional trap like a wild frightened animal,
with intense feelings of humiliation, shame, grief, anger, hate, helplessness, and hopelessness the little girl felt – she wanted to die. Emotions need to come
out but not bursting like a dam to drown us.
Now, I’m in a state of relaxation after having several nightmares – one
dream started out to be beautiful. I was with little Gloria and we were in
the children’s ward of a hospital when a nurse met us and led us down the
hall to what seemed an empty room – then we saw a basket like crib and the
nurse lifted a small baby wrapped in a blanket and she place the baby into
little Gloria’s arms. Gloria held the infant as if she were holding a great
treasure and tenderly touched its cheek – there was no separation between
her and the child – they were one – and her arms closed around it. She
looked at me as if unable to explain her feelings of bliss and joy – no words
were adequate for the sensations of that moment but I knew how joyful she
felt – the child was an object of love and he had a mission in life – to draw
out love and care, to make people gentle toward him – towards each other.
Little Gloria, sat in a rocker, and no sooner had the rocking commenced
than the baby’s eyes opened. The brown eyes looked straight at her and in
miraculous transformation melted in a conspiratorial smile as mouth tilted
and cheeks spread with new found happiness – gurgling the baby grabbed
little Gloria’s finger – she didn’t stand a chance. She fell in love with a little
baby and that baby knew it. It could be said that God was in that baby asking
to be loved because as Christ said, “Whatever you do to the least of my
little ones you do to me.” I felt very happy as I watched little Gloria rocking
that small bundle in her arms (knowing it was Joshua – her sister’s baby,
she could not resist – knowing he innocently had helped her love again) – if
I had known the nightmare that was to follow – well that’s another dream
and I’ll keep it separate from this one.

Same night – Wednesday

Hi again,
I’ll attempt to tell you of another dream we had tonight – it was
about Gloria but I knew I was dreaming it too. I found myself in an
almost featureless wilderness – a land of snow and ice. I lost Gloria that is one minute she was there – the next I was alone, scared, frightened
but strangely excited by the solitude and bleakness of my surroundings. I
sensed that some great secret lay just out of sight – I was a little upset too
because I felt if I discovered this secret, I’d be doing so at deadly peril –
snow swirled all around me – it became difficult to see ahead of me farther
than a few feet away – suddenly someone appeared out of the whiteness.
I didn’t recognize the person but the person seemed to know me – then
I could see that it was a man very tall and thin, and he held something
like a large circle in his hands and this circle had lines radiating from the
center of it like the spokes of a wheel. Then Gloria appeared next to him
and though she appeared like herself at first then I noticed that she had
a large single eye and her two little eyes besides – it was all very strange.
The man and Gloria beckoned that I was to follow them but I began to
feel numb and drowsy and I just let myself drop in the snow – something
was dragging me down. I heard Gloria yelling, “Wait – wait,” but a tiny
voice whispered, “This is where it ends and it doesn’t matter very much
after all,” and then the white snow turned gray and the gray turned to
black – then just as I was really beginning to relax I felt myself mysteriously
drawn up – pulled out by my wrists and I was a little girl again – too
little to understand but still I knew what was being said to me – that my
sister was down there and it was somehow my fault. The “Other” said so.
I knew I had done something terribly wrong and the sister had died and someone
was very angry at me – that was why he came into the room at night and the
blows would fall. I knew that someone had told me never to disobey again
or something terrible would happen – and I did disobey only once – what
happened? Something – terrible.
I’d better come out of this dream – something seems to be twisting
itself around my neck making it hard to breathe. I’m taking deep breathes
now (just like you told me to) and I’m okay. We’ll talk about it some other
time okay?
Gloria’s Helper

An Angel places a Third Eye on Gloria’s forehead

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy, supernatural

Gloria Rising pgs. 62-64

AUTOMATIC LETTER 48

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

I’d better put down dreams just had before I forget the whole thing.
One was a weird experience – a child is looking for his mother and she
is nowhere to be found but while she walks around searching, she meets
several other people and each of these people ask for directions – the child
points to different streets and they go along but always leave before she has
a chance to ask where his mother is.
Then something strange happens, the child sees a volcano and coming
from there is what looks like an angel. He’s running toward the child, he
approaches and tells her not to be worried and put his hand out toward the child’s forehead and tells her, “Well look at you! Now you have three eyes.”
I am looking at the child, I see Gloria and she really has three eyes – one
in the middle of her forehead. The volcano erupts and we’re running but
the fire doesn’t seem to come our way – I see a house and I grab Gloria
and head for it – there’s a golden key in the door and it turns easily but
slowly – it is filled with a family – I look at them, children, parents, and
others and Gloria starts to talk to someone she calls “mother” – her mother
tells her, “I have always loved you, I still do,” and Gloria answers, “Do you
know I love you too?” The mother says, “Yes, my child, you have proved it
always.” – there the dream focuses on others in the family – I try to come
to understand the specific needs of each member of this family and to
accommodate the need as well as it is possible – Gloria is helping me and
others start to help us – when a child cries someone is there to hold his
hand, to hug him or talk with him; when a child stumbles someone always
comes to help him up – when he mourns someone mourns with him –
there is immense comfort in this group of people – a social order and we
know that this caring is helping them to survive – it’s a good feeling – till
we hear footsteps approaching the house – everyone is saying things like,
“Don’t worry,” – “Don’t be afraid,” – hammering fists against the door –
kicking – shouting – the door stays closed. I see Gloria – she still has her
three eyes and strangely there is fear in two eyes only – I am petrified with
fear – the door opens and someone walks up to Gloria, yanks her to her
feet and drags her into the yard, saying, “Next time you’ll remember not to
put ideas into children’s heads – cry, mourn, laugh – well I’ll teach you,” –
he’s carrying Gloria (who is never a little child herself) under his arm like
a sack of grain. He’s striding across the dark yard to the pigeon house – he
fumbles with the lock, opens the door and yells, “Inside, you can stay with
the birds until you learn to obey me.”
The strangest thing happens all I can see of Gloria are her eyes flashing
and there’s fear in two eyes but one (the third eye) is twinkling and
winks at me – this is where I start to feel “it’s all over” – and then I’m in that
pigeon house – hammering my fists against the door – frantically shouting and screaming and suddenly the shack is filled with the sound of frightened birds slamming against me.
I don’t want to remember any more of this dream- too many emotions
that I’m not sure of are going on in me – will talk to you later – help, please.

Gloria’s Helper

 

Deep inside he hates me, I sense he’d enjoy killing anyone

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 40-41

AUTOMATIC LETTER 31

Sunday night

Dear Adam,
Gloria is resting while I tell you what’s going on. It’s been one nightmare
after another. Gloria was dreaming of a hotel. She knew it was a hotel
although she had never been there before it was vast, she seemed to run
down endless corridors. People ignored her and talked to each other as she
ran past as though she was not there. She had to find someone, she didn’t
know why, she only knew she had to find this person or – or what? She
didn’t know the urgency or the reason – she turned a corner and was in a
dark narrow passage, blind – she heard breathing somewhere but could see
no one. It got darker and she started to feel her way across the passage –
she fell – it became less dark and she saw a closet door – the door started to
open slightly – she screamed and that was it – she woke up.
To add to this, her inner force refused to leave her alone – it did
nothing she could put her finger on – no outbursts but there was a feeling
of something functioning inside that wasn’t her – something that was
brooding and trying to think things out – it must have had something to
do with me.
I don’t like closets. I haven’t for a long time. I was never locked in
one like some are – but I still hate closet doors. I feel scared, anxious –
very much afraid. Many times Gloria finds that I’m the only one who has
the answers for her – it’s only because I know of things – of experiences
she doesn’t remember – of incidents that happened. It’s also because I’m
determined to take care of her. She is learning to have faith in relying on
me – it’s all thanks to you. We follow your suggestions, we don’t open the
front door, we lock our windows, and no looking through the peephole or
outside when we hear the noise this way we are protected.
All this has nothing to do with the feeling of doom – I feel right now.
Please why doesn’t somebody come – why doesn’t anyone stop this – a terrible
thought – is he going to kill me – I’m so cold – the most frightening part – he hasn’t said a word yet. I know deep inside he hates me. I sense
he’d enjoy killing anyone – and I have to get out of here.
I’m tired, exhausted, I’m leaving now.

Gloria’s Helper

SHOCK OF REALITY

childhood abuse and trauma, healing, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 36-38

AUTOMATIC LETTER 29
Sunday night
Dear Adam,

Gloria is having nightmares again. As of tonight it is impossible to
put some of my feelings into words. For one thing, I’m starting to really feel and at the same time I feel drained because I’ve opened a door that
has been stuck shut for years and I’m dumbstruck at what I see when it’s
opened.
For years – something buried so deep inside – never sure what it is –
more dangerous than any shadow or ghosts. Ghosts had shape and names –
this has none – whatever lived inside was so potent that sometimes it
seemed like a terrible bomb – glimpses caught in school or on the way
home. The safe world falls away and I know that the little girl walking saw
things that no little girl should see – blood – shattered glasses – all kinds of
horrible things – destruction – people crashing to their deaths – no burials
just vanishing, so many dead people. I feel nothing – numbness has become
part of me.

Later

Hi,
It’s important that Gloria does not create a wall at this time – this is
why I’m here again. There are other things you must know about the child
(we spoke of) but I can’t go into it now. About the child – he has not lost
his eyes or his legs but his will and his taste for life.
Again, I’m seeing a picture of the child at ten – the parents show pictures
of relatives – some are dead. The parents do not tell the child that
they’re angry – the child feels it – it’s in the air in everything said and done
– but at the age of ten, what does one do with that. The child gets angry
because they are all dead and he can’t do anything about it. Most important
to this child is the parents that even though they don’t say they’ve suffered,
he senses they are fragile. The parents appear to be very strong people but
the child has to be gentle with them always because it has to be. The child
has no right to get angry with them because they’ve suffered enough. Even
more the child has to always be happy in order to make up for everything
that happened
The child was taught that the most terrible thing (to do) or to be is
being selfish. To put yourself first to the child is that of being happy at ten years old.  So the child was taught that he didn’t deserve to be happy even
if he was expected to be.
Another picture about the child – everyone in the family is dying –
death doesn’t scare this child – death is like a soft blanket – like being held
in someone’s arm. When the parents talk of death, it’s always as a place
where everyone will hold a reunion.
Other things you’ll have to know – here. I’ll have to use caution a little
more. I’ll await any suggestions you may have.

Gloria’s Helper

NOTE:
Gloria’s Helper and I were walking a tightrope as if high above the
breathtaking and lethal Niagara Falls. A delicate balancing act to avoid
a disastrous slip that would send Gloria hurdling back into the abyss of
dissociation and amnesia. Gloria’s Helper understood we had to proceed
slowly to avoid Gloria panicking and regressing behind a wall of detached
numbness, where her progress would be dashed. It would be a terrible
setback that would close her off to us and cause her to resist our help. She
needed time to absorb the mounting shock of reality and time to rest to
gather emotional strength to face her childhood trauma.

Divine Love

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, healing

Gloria Rising Pg. 35

AUTOMATIC LETTER 27

Sunday night

Dear Adam,

Gloria didn’t leave any paper except this orange paper so I’m using
this. Wish I could put myself in a trance as you put me. Still tonight in my
dreams I left my body and I was up in the stars – light but it wasn’t light. It
was brighter than light, but no glare, no hurting from it.
Out of it spelled “LOVE”, not the fake syllable but LOVE that IS!
Like no love I’ve ever imagined, “LOVE.” I saw, “THAT MATTERS!”
Words but they weren’t words or even ideas and the scene was beautiful,
filled with life, with a universe so powerful, a love so beautiful, it made me
want to cry with joy.
Then for the first time in a long time I fell into a deep sleep and
returned from nothingness. I could hear the cars going by from the windows
in the dark but nothing bright. I was like a life in limbo but a desolating
grief is now born in me and I mourn all those who have died – but it
will pass that I know. Time takes care of a lot of grief.
See you tomorrow.
Love

Gloria’s Helper

The Miracle of Forgetting

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, hypnotherapy

Gloria Risings: pgs. 31-32

AUTOMATIC LETTER 23
Monday night

Dear Adam,

Tonight Gloria dreamt that she was standing on a high cliff above
the water, above the ocean scanning the water for her mother. She saw
her blond head disappear in the waves and leaped off the cliff. She awoke
breathing frantically, suppressing a scream.
Next, she dreamed of the “Other”. She knew he felt deeply about things
but what a temper. He should have been labeled “Highly explosive, use
care in handling.” But I’m not going to go into what happened because I’ll
get scared again.
It’s strange but I’m remembering what a gypsy woman once told
Gloria. She said that the mind was a wonderful machine. People tell you
how smart a little boy is when he can do calculations so big you can’t even
write them down. Or a genius like Einstein comes up with a way to
make a big enough bang to kill everyone.
“But little girl you know what the real wonder of the mind is? It’s not
these geniuses. The real wonder is forgetting. Why do you think that café
next door does so well? People go there, they have a few glasses of wine,
and they forget. Or they come here, have their fortunes told and they
forget. Even wars can be forgotten, little girl. That’s how wonderful the
mind is.”

I guess that gypsy made more of an impression with her words too
little Gloria than she ever thought of because we sure followed her advice.
Now when I sense there is something important I’ve forgotten, I can’t
remember what it is. I know it’s important because just thinking about it
makes my heart beat fast and furious. Well someday we’ll remember and
then I’ll share it with you.
We had an awful nightmare about the “Other” tonight that is best forgotten.
We’ll see you soon – till then.

Gloria’s Helper

Garlig’s Monstrous Trap

alien monsters, horror, science fiction

Chapter 15: pgs. 89-95

TRAVELING FASTER than the speed of light, the gigantic saucer magnetically pulsed into a different dimension. The Stargirls beamed through space, unaware someone called Aagaatar, “The Great Evil,” ruled the better part of the Vanngeez galaxy, while a horrifying fiend named Garlig was in command of the Zaagon saucer imprisoning them. Garlig was the Aagaa Zaagon’s Master Torturer—a monster’s monster.

The Stargirls’ earthly innocence was no match for their vile powers that conspired to control their lives and destiny. Furthermore, Aagaatar was the evil incarnate that conjured unthinkable horrors to dominate the universe and destroy all that was good.

The Aagaa Zaagon Empire was a murderous civilization that interbred with elite members of conquered enemies to strengthen its racial supremacy. The Aagaa race is named for its evil god. Aagaa was an unholy word uttered in the throes of sex, heat of battle, or in curses. The Aagaa were a paranoid race feared and hated for their perverse genius and legendary cruelty. Their way of life is founded on depravity and lust for killing. Random murder was condoned and slaughtering the enemy was given the highest reward. Homicide and mass murder were as necessary to the Aagaa as the air they breathed. The Aagaa Death Ethos was believed superior for domination of the universe. Black holes were the embodiment of the Aagaa philosophy of Thanatos and symbolized their destructive forces that annihilated planets and civilizations.

The Aagaa’s invention of Zano warfare marked a new epoch in their conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Advanced civilizations of the Vaangeez galaxy had fought and fled the Aagaa’s bloodthirsty invasion to survive.

The Star people had led the last Star rebellion, the Aagaa Zaagon Empire’s greatest enemy—but now encircled they faced extermination. Abysmally, the military union between the Star people, Etuu, Zataba, Noling, and Trions had collapsed, crushed by Garlig’s War of Terror. Regardless, the Star people chose to fight to the death rather than surrender to genocide.

Genocide was on the mind of the one in control of the Stargirls. Garlig craved nothing more than the destruction of all enlightened beings; he viewed them as subversive threats. Advanced civilizations had felt the cleansing wrath of the Aagaa Zaagon Empire, what the Evil Master, Aagaatar proclaimed the “Final Solution.”

Garlig had ingeniously trapped the Star people in the Vaangeez galaxy and laid siege to their defensive outposts, softening them up for the final assault. Now, he wondered why he felt such loathing for the alien Stargirls.

He ordered them isolated and requested one be brought to him for interrogation. He felt her youth, a weak link to take advantage of—yet, oddly, feared her the most.

“Aagaa,” he swore, “Aagaa, Aagaa.” He thought that when the Master finished using them, he would have his way. The sadistic thought made his misshapen mouth spew out black drool. “Aagaa, Aagaa,” he howled. The craving to maim and kill grew uncontrollable as his powerful tentacles engorged with blood flailed the air. Conflicting passions arose— to touch their flesh—that checked his homicidal impulse, driving him to command his Troag guards to bring them all, despite his inspired plan to question the one. He wanted to possess them. He wanted to get up close to touch and smell them, smell the organic juices that gave them life.

Garlig let out an ugly laugh; the exotic life forms presaged; his Master’s worst nightmare now stood powerless before him. The Star people’s assassins, sent to save them, would stand in judgment while he probed their vulnerability. He was the master artist of terror. Inspired by a macabre soul, he covered the canvas of life with mayhem and destruction. Some of his subjects required short rapid strokes to break them, while others long brush strokes of agony to render them a work of genius. Those who failed his artistic vision savagely killed.

Anticipation, terror’s handmaid, he manipulated expertly. Mind crippling tools, he plied imaginatively. He used love to create unbearable torture, forcing those he could not break or drive insane to witness loved ones butchered. The whispered threat the aliens represented only fueled the horrors his mind created for them. His blind hatred was a mix of rage and sexual tension. He detested anything that challenged his power. Anything getting in his way was damned.

Garlig roared when informed they soon would stand before his reproachful gaze. He sat on the right-hand side of Aagaatar, the highest Aagaa honor for his unrivaled treachery, shocking violence, and daring conquests.

In the meantime, the monstrous beasts prodded the Stargirls toward the command center with avenging blows to their bodies. The beasts, traumatized by Garlig’s torture, had turned their rage on the Stargirls.

Jill cried out in pain, “God help them if they’ve harmed Lyn.” They had abandoned close combat, choosing to yield as part of their escape plan. They agreed to act helpless so the enemy would underestimate them, given their defeat by the steely-eyed spiders. They held wing chun, short power, and chow gar, shock power, in reserve.

The Stargirls gasped at the sight of Lyn cringing on the floor, her head bowed, holding her arm; feeling relief, they bolted to her; but huge, hairy hands grasped fistfuls of hair, yanking their heads back with neck breaking force, throwing them to the ground. Knees dug sharp into their backs, pinning them to the floor like insects on a spreading board.

Mad shrieked angrily, “Get off, mutants.” Her shrill shout created confusion in their minds, fearing attack; but when she lay still, they eased the numbing pressure off her back. They glanced at their leader for guidance.

Nogaa’s piercing red eyes scowled at his warriors, then at the source of his deplorable defeat. His huge brow furrowed, deep scars lining his brooding face, telling of forgotten battles he had buried. Nevertheless, his commanding presence was an immediate antidote for his warriors’ fears.

His complexion grew dark; his thoughts searched for an answer to the aliens’ aggression. He knew all their lives depended on him delivering them respectfully to his master. Any sign of alien rebellion would send Garlig into a murderous rage that would rain down on all of them. He hastily made a command decision and kneeled down to the alien nearest him. Nogaa grasped the alien’s chin and tilted her drawn face toward him. He gazed into her insolent eyes and grinned while his eyes begged her for understanding. He patted Mad on the head and grimly went to the next alien and repeated his desperate overture. Once he finished soothing them, he bellowed, “Awago, awa daa diwee ki!”

The aliens lifted to their feet; the beasts positioned on each side securing them in arm locks. They staggered forward, feeling mutual misgivings, while the Stargirls considered whether they had misjudged their ruthless captors. Maybe they had more in common with the beasts than met the eye. Maybe they were all prisoners. After all, the massive beast had shown kindness despite their vigorous defense against him. Then again, the beasts’ violence left them guarded.

Garlig’s voice thundered as they entered; the beasts thrust their heads to the floor, making them bow to their master. His deafening laugh and wicked expression smeared on a terrifying face that gripped them.

They were ill prepared for what stood before them. Lyn felt repulsion at the incredible sight, a vision of pure horror.

Garlig was Herculean in stature with a crude, warped face and one large glaring eye. His phenomenal body glistened with unnatural beauty; two fearsome tentacles coiled from his upper back, while two massive humanoid arms formed a chilling demonic look. The horrifying tentacles undulated threateningly as razor-sharp teeth protruded from huge suckers. Without warning, the tentacles surged toward them, causing them to step back with fists raised in defense. Jill, sensing the inhuman thing played with them, barked, “Lower your guard.”

Her swift command saved them from vicious attack. She thought Submission . . . the Way of Sun Tzu . . . the backdoor to valor, given what they faced. Jill commanded, “Kneel,” and they meekly kneeled and prostrated themselves in false worship, thus charming the monster’s ego.

Garlig choked back black bile, letting out a contemptible laugh that appeased his rage. He gloated at his enemies lying face down before him. He felt exhilaration—he, the elixir of death—as his powerful tentacles reached down and coarsely caressed their recoiling bodies, making them shudder. He withdrew his groping tentacles and gave a signal to the beasts to lift them to their feet. He had come close to disobeying Aagaatar’s strict orders to deliver the aliens unharmed to him. Their deaths would have meant his own. His rage returned. His homicidal fantasies displaced onto the Troag leader.

He lashed out, “Nogaa, you coward, you let these frail aliens defeat your guards.” However, what Garlig feared more was the hex the aliens seemed to cast on him. Never had any life form controlled his emotions and desires as they had, bewitching him with their alien beauty, nearly ruining his plans. Maybe he took them too lightly, he thought as his lip curled—torture time will tell. He relished toying with his new prey as he outlined how he would use them for his conquest of the Vaangeez galaxy. Although he was usurping the Master’s authority, they were unaware of his treachery.

Garlig derisively said, “The ancient prophecy you thought was your destiny is dead. You are not my Master Aagaatar’s worst nightmare. I am yours.” His evil stare bore through them. Infuriated, he shrieked, “Bear witness to your master’s power.” His mighty tentacles lashed out causing piercing thunderclaps, making them drop to their knees and clutch their ears to stop the excruciating ringing. He enjoyed their torment, waiting for them to look up. When they did, he pointed his fearsome tentacle at a strange device. The tentacle swayed hypnotically; suction cups rhythmically opened and closed, baring deadly teeth. The Stargirls mesmerized by the horrifying bizarre spectacle.

He gave a command and a burst of energy from the curious device severed the hideous tentacle. Jill felt a glimmer of hope but before the tentacle hit the floor, an incredible light emanated from the stump and instantly regenerated the tentacle before her bewildered eyes. He haughtily swung the tentacle in the air with a horrendous laugh of victory.

Ali blinked her eyes, wondering if what she saw was an illusion, or real. Sade felt revulsion.

Mad whispered, “Oh, no.” All at once, Garlig’s eye opened wide; his bullwhip tentacles wrapped around Nogaa’s two brothers who screeched in anguish as grotesque teeth tore at their flesh, tentacles whipping them high above Garlig’s head.

He laughed, amused by their screams, and flung the youngest brother into a glowing chamber. He gave a ruthless command while his audience of hairy beasts, creepy-crawly things, and Stargirls watched—in fear, indifference, and stark horror.

The beast sprung to his feet, on fire. His skin bubbled. He smashed into the wall, fell, rose, and blindly groped his way around the cage. He grabbed at his melting face, screaming in agony; he hobbled, stumbled, and collapsed, his body shuddered, smoldered, and vaporized. The chamber glimmered in diffuse light. All that remained was a sterile chamber uncluttered by death. The other brother, wailing in terror, struggled to free himself as ravenous teeth dug deeper into his body. Nogaa realized their fate and charged Garlig, who used his free tentacle to ensnare him.

Garlig growled at the Stargirls, “Your master is an unforgiving master. You, my wicked slaves, must obey or die. The lesson you learn today will make you better slaves and help you fulfill your true destiny.”

Garlig tossed the Nogaa’s brother to scurrying creepy crawlers, metal pincers clacked wildly. Lyn’s mind screamed, No! She remembered the searing hot pain of their cold, brutal grip. Thinking they would tear the poor beast apart, she looked away. Garlig had other plans for the beast’s sacrifice.

The beast splayed on a metallic table with menacing lasers designed to amputate limbs if the beast tried to move. The table tilted, forcing them to observe Garlig’s abominable operation.

Garlig bellowed, “Let us see what is inside this sinful thing that betrayed me.”

Satan himself, Sade thought; she braced herself. The beast’s screams turned to subdued cries as the first incision of Garlig’s obscene autopsy disemboweled it, and bloody intestines spewed out onto the floor.

Bloodcurdling screams stopped short when the beast, in reflex, lurched upward; cut-off arms landed on the floor with nauseating thumps. The beast reeled from the table on stumps, taking a wobbling step, and fell, in death rattle, at Garlig’s feet.

Garlig’s huge malignant eye reflected the horror etched on the Stargirls’ faces. His bulging eye was a madhouse . . . mirroring their innocence crucified on his altar of terror. He swore, “Aagaa . . .” angry the kill was too quick. He laughed insanely that his insatiable hunger for blood cheated him. He heard soft cries. Subdued cries that brought his mind back to the aliens. He heard one of them choking back tears. He had set the stage for his ultimate act of trauma, aimed to open the aliens’ minds to his reality. To survive, they would do his bidding or join their captors. After all, what choice did they have?

He laughed—how a quirk of fate delivered them into his hands, an unintended gift from their Star guide who inadvertently led him to them. The Stargirls’ heads hung, trembling uncontrollably, trying to avoid what lay across the room, as a quivering arm groped for life. The sight, let alone the stink of scorched skin, repelled them and made them retch.

Garlig roared, “Raise your eyes in devotion to your master. Turn away from my masterpiece once more and you die. One by one, so the last one can savor the full measure of your deaths.” His threats were groundless given Aagaatar’s orders, yet they had the desired effect. Trickery the sharp tool of terror, he thought. Sweating profusely, they forced themselves to lift their heads in order to live. Jill thought if looks could kill.

“Watch and behold.” He raised Nogaa high above them as tentacles ripped him apart. Nogaa, defiant, refused to cry out; a deathly silence filled the chamber. Jill desperately wanted to turn away and swallowed hard as savage tentacles slammed Nogaa headlong into the floor. His head struck the floor with an explosive thud. White brain matter showered the Stargirls. Garlig’s eye gazed into their horrified faces. He knew his superb performance and traumatic hypnosis cracked more than one head, tossing the lifeless body aside.

“Your lesson for today: killing is the only thing that makes you feel alive.” Then, to test his control over the aliens, he gave a simple command. “Pick pieces of Nogaa’s brain out of your hair and hold them out to me as an offering.” Without hesitation or sign of revulsion, they did as commanded. Detached, expressionless faces understood what they held in their hands—brains, but also their lives. They cried inside while the sound of the beasts’ growls surrounded them.

Garlig rejoiced, contemplating the mind-numbing fear and horror in the aliens’ eyes. He knew that once they consummated the Final Solution, they would be at his mercy, a trophy given to him by Aagaatar for his victory. Then they would serve a higher purpose—his purpose.

Gluttonous thoughts shook him—thoughts of ravaging their bodies, torturing them one by one while the others watched, and then having their heads served to him were almost unbearable.

He groaned with immense pleasure, nothing wasted. Every morsel of flesh devoured. Eyes plucked out and consumed like exotic Jappaa. Ears eaten as if sweet Eluvion spurs while their heads were cracked open and their brains sucked out. Their skulls then crushed and minced with fragrant Raagda, for filling. Their prized skin lightly roasted to wrap the filling in. His favorite crunchy meal was Wasaagaa. A meal for a god, he thought.

Garlig would save their headless, skinned bodies for Feasting Day when he could celebrate his incarnation as Master of the Universe and serve their bodies as hosts. Drool dripped from the gaping hole in his face; his sinister laughter made the Stargirls recoil. Maniacal laughter filled Garlig’s massive head with thoughts of murder, thoughts of killing Aagaatar and ruling the Star people.

The Stargirls knelt in bloody brain matter and their own vomit. They felt weak and poisoned by the disgusting smell of death and Garlig’s hateful words and unspeakable actions. It felt like they had received an electroconvulsive shock, leaving them disoriented as they struggled to gain control of their minds. What disturbed them most was that they felt dead; the total absence of emotion frightened them. They were a mess, numb and in shock, caught in a deadly trap where nothing made sense and escape was impossible…

 

The Stargirls Alien Abduction

alien monsters, alien worlds, science fiction

 

CHAPTER 14 pgs. 85-88

…Sade observed Mad standing off alone, scanning the horizon with her back to them. She wondered what seized her attention just as Mad did something peculiar. She tapped her red-crusted boot heels together, which made a clicking sound, and said, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.” Mad stood silent—the Stargirls’ mouths were agape—when she spun around and grinned at them. “All my life, I wanted to do that,” said Mad, thinking they would get a kick out of it; but the look on their faces shocked her. Abruptly, the temperature dropped as an enormous shadow enveloped them, turning Bahtra’s daylight into purple twilight.

Sade tried to speak; she frantically pointed behind Mad. “You’re not going to believe this.” Mad turned and gasped at the massive object confronting her, hovering in the sky.

Sade yelled, “It appeared out of nowhere.”

Mad, tongue in cheek, said, “It appeared because I clicked my heels three times.”

“That’s too creepy.”

“Well, it’s not every day you’re rescued by an extraterrestrial.” Before Sade could respond, a beam of intense energy scanned their bodies and transported them onboard the colossal saucer.

* * *

Life by its grand plan is getting better, Lyn thought, as she stood naked and immaculately clean. There was not a lick of Bahtra dust left on her body. All contaminants and clothing were gone, leaving her scrubbed and in the buff.

Naked to the universe, Jill looked around and thought could the Star people be nudists? Her telepathic thought brought smiles to the Stargirls faces. Then a hole opened in the wall and a pile of black silk like material fell to the floor.

Sade sat thunderstruck, realizing she had lost the Golden Star. Mad noticed her grimacing and said, “Sade, I know what you’re thinking— don’t fret. I’m sure it’s secure with our Star guide.”

Sade said, “I’d feel awful if anything happened to it.”

Jill overheard Sade’s lament and said, “Get dressed and we will help,” as she grabbed what looked like pull-on pants and a tank top from the silk mound.

They stood in stunned silence, looking bewildered by their unexpected rescue. Suddenly, the wall behind them glowed and an opening appeared. Large crawly things marched in, shaking the floor and grabbing Lyn from behind with steely pincers that overpowered her. She felt trapped on a UFO the size of Brooklyn, helpless and now in agonizing pain. She knew it was futile to resist. She tried to call out, but searing pain controlled her. The mechanical pincers dug deep into her muscle as it dragged her somewhere.

Ali yelled, “Hey—” as four hairy beasts surrounded her. Instinct took over—she attacked the largest beast with a flurry of blows and kicks that, to her amazement, knocked the large beast to the floor. The other beasts hesitated. She spun, landing hard butterfly kicks under their noses, hitting nerve points with her heel that cut a swathe through them.

When four more beasts charged her before she could strike again, an alarm sounded, sending a hoard of reinforcements to control the unruly aliens.

Ali screamed, “Lyn!” struggling to free herself but out-muscled by the revolting creatures. The more she struggled, the tighter their grip. Ali felt air crushed out of her lungs until she blacked-out.

Jill, defending herself, saw Ali fall limp. Jill yelled, “Let go, you freak,” while leaping on the back of the beast crushing Ali. She applied a shime-waza chokehold on its massive neck. The beast struggled to throw her while letting go of its death grip on Ali who dropped to the floor. The beast flailed its arms, but Jill’s deadly hold caused it to collapse to its knees. Outnumbered, Jill brought down three more beasts with strategic blows, striking vital points at the base of their skulls, temples, and carotid arteries.

Sade and Mad covered Jill’s back, holding off a half dozen attackers with ferocious scissor kicks to their bodies—knees buckled, kidneys went into shock, and throats chopped, gasping for breath.

Suddenly the beasts stopped their attack and retreated. The Stargirls had fought valiantly. Then creepy-crawly things surrounded them and flashes of energy stunned them. They fell to the floor writhing in pain.

Cold steel pincers gripped them with hydraulic proficiency, putting an end to their heroic rebellion and rescue of Lyn.

* * *

Burning, stabbing pain radiated up her arm and shoulder, while being dragged by a cold-blooded machine with no understanding of pain—pain that made Lyn feel faint. She feared the violent twisting of her arm.

Fearing a partial dislocation—or, worse, having it ripped off. She kicked with her feet, pushing hard off the floor, trying to prevent further injury and keep up with the machine’s cruel pace.

Finally, the machine stopped and let go its vise grip. Lyn lay, rubbing her battered arm, fighting off tears. Her arm was black and blue, but nothing felt broken. She lay trembling outside what appeared to be a door, as the agonizing pain in her arm turned to numbness and the horror of what laid behind the door gripped her harder.

She shrieked, “Oh, my God.” as the machine loomed back over her and a ray of light scanned her body. She felt thankful the machine did not tear her apart. It was spider-like—a creepy, crawly thing with a big head and lifeless metallic eyes—while terrifying creatures with huge hairy muscles and burning red eyes stared down at her. Lyn wanted to cry out to the others, to see if they were alive, but she feared treatment more savage. Once the machine finished its examination, it left. She sighed miserably. She sat up, holding her throbbing arm, while glumly thinking, what happened to our Star guide. She stared at the floor to avoid the menacing red eyes.

Violently thrown into a dark cell the others fared no better as expectations of rescue crushed. Hopeful expectations turned to shock, despair, and disillusionment as they softly called to each other; “Are you okay?” as they reached out, hugged each other, and cried over Lyn’s uncertain fate.

 

* * *

Beyond their feeble voices and desperate circumstances, a sinister, commanding voice laughed and said, “Master will be most pleased. I captured the aliens that will power our control of the Star people.” His vulgar laughter rang out again, and the enormous saucer entered Sync-time and accelerated faster than the speed of light toward its home base while dark energy mysteriously propelled it.

The only thing on his mind was domination of the Vaangeez galaxy. Despite an ageless intergalactic war with the Star people, he only grasped its meaning in his own wretched survival and fantasy of ruling the Vaangeez galaxy. The alien beings he captured meant nothing to him, yet they held the means to victory. He put aside his natural desire to ravage and kill them and followed his Master’s orders . . . for the moment.

The Stargirls huddled together in what felt like a cold steel trap. They whispered to each other, wondering what had happened. They felt numb and foolish for falling into a deadly ambush. They were worried sick over Lyn, the loss of the Golden Star, and their freedom.

Mad said, “Someone went out of their way to stop us.”

Ali retorted, “Without the Star and Lyn, it feels like the gates of hell opened and swallowed us.”

Shocked and bewildered by their alien abduction they struggled to comprehend what was happening. Reality no longer made any sense; it was a waking nightmare.Nevertheless, the Stargirls refused to be beaten, falling back on their survival training. They realized it did not matter what happened or how they got there. What mattered was how they were going to get out.

Mad snapped, “You don’t want to mess with a Stargirl and think you’ll get away with it. Our spirits will prevail.” Her words seethed in white-hot fury. “Remember Ping-fa, Sun Tzu,’ Art of War—read between the lines: kick ass and take names later.” With that blunt remark, the Stargirls drew up an asymmetric battle plan. Mad thought hit and run.Jill added, “Deception is Sun Tzu first rule of war. Do not forget what Denham said in King Kong: ‘Oh no, it wasn’t the airplanes. It was Beauty killed the Beast.’” The Stargirls struck by her surprising reflection pondered its meaning for the battle ahead.

The Ax Nightmare

automatic writing, childhood abuse and trauma, horror, hypnotherapy

Gloria Rising pgs. 100-102

AUTOMATIC LETTER 72
Tuesday night
Dear Adam,

My little friend Gloria is in a trance – every so often a little shiver hits
her – but tonight hunger will not keep her awake. Adam you are the dearest,
sensitive, kindness person we have ever known. You literally saved our
life.

You know what God says in the Bible, “When you give bread to the
hungry person, you give bread to Me.” Well tonight you gave a feast to a
person and to God as well. Also you gave a little girl proof that she is worth
something – no one would do what you did for someone not worth anything
– more, you did it in a beautiful way as if it was a normal thing that
a son would do for a mother he loved and Gloria and I were touched very
deeply. We shall never forget it – last we will never forget what the words
“friend” and “love” mean. God bless you and loves you dearly as we do.

Now, for the dream Gloria had. She’s still in the ax nightmare. Right
now I see her a little girl hiding. She remembers asking her sister once
what dying meant – it was like going to sleep and never waking up and
she had realized that if you never wake up you might never be able to stop
dreaming and she didn’t want to die and always dream of the nightmares
she had seen downstairs.

She’s there behind the screen and she can’t move and it’s getting dark –
a darkness you can still hear through – the door is opening and she’s not
even hardly breathing – she’s thinking “you don’t know where I am but I
know where you are” – and then she hears someone say, “Dear God, I just
had to get away for a few minutes in all my years as a cop I’ve never imagined
anything like what I just saw,” and another voice answers, “I know, I
let myself out to throw up,” and “that little girl out there let’s not talk about
it,” and she thinks “what little girl out there” I’m here – then realizes that
some screams she had heard later and the little body near where the man
had hid was another child killed.

He thought he’d killed Gloria but it was another child coming back from                            school – and she realized that she was the cause of the child getting killed                    because she had said nothing again – it shocked and shamed her – too many                people killed because of me and my cowardice – you cannot close a mind to                             it – then she came back to hear the person say, “Thank God, no one’s here,”                         and her little voice said, “I’m here,” one asked, “Did you hear that?” and the                     other said, “I sure did.” “Where are you little girl” and the little girl asked, “You                  first, who are you?” He answered, “I’m a policeman and so is my friend, come                       out of wherever you are,” and the little girl said, “Lift up your hat so I can see,”                    and she thought the man said, “Damn,” but two police caps were lifted up, and                   she came out but when one went to pick her up she held back and he said, “Oh,            come on little sweetheart, I have a little girl like you and you need a father’s               shoulder to cry on right now.” But she couldn’t let him because she had wet                  herself when she got so scared and she felt ashamed and didn’t want him to know.
The policeman said, “Oh, hell the poor kid must have heard the uproar and
is scared to death,” and he asked, “Did you hear?” she answered, “I heard
and saw,” and after that the little girl wouldn’t talk for a month.

She was sent to live with a relative to make her forget but she never
forgot, nor did her heart ever let her forget that one lady she gave water to
downstairs who said, “Bless you child, I’m dying, get away from here fast,”
but maybe she was not dying – and the hand that rolled at her feet and oh,
I just have to get out of this terrible dream. I’m so cold and my head hurts
so but my heart hurts even more because this is the person, you think is
worth saving – I’m freezing.

Gloria’s Helper