''You awe vulgaw again.''
''I'm asking you, one guy to another, nothing to be ashamed of. Ass, tits, what?''
''Hew face. I always look at hew face.''
''Every woman has a face, and tits and ass and the rest, but only nymphos have hooves, sweet bushy-''
''I have to use the toilet!''
I can't listen to him anymowe. I have to end this now.
''There's a latrine, just before the forest.''
''I can't see it, can you take me thewe?''
''It's right there, just go around the house.''
''Can you show me, please?''
He got up, pulled a Santa cap out of his pocket, and put it on his head.
''Ho ho ho, follow me.''
He smiled. He made me feel sowwy. But, the path led me hewe fow a weason. I'm sowwy old man, but I need youw life fowce, I need it to go on. I don't think anyone will miss you, not Pan, ow youw 'nymphos', they exist only in youw head.
He walked, and I walked behind him, I gwipped the knife fiwmly in my hand, the moment we weach the commode, and he tuwns awound, I will stab it in his chest, just bellow his left nipple, I have to hit that space between the wibs, and hit his heawt.
I have to be calm, exhale, inhale, the stab has to be stwong when the moment comes.
Hewe we awe.
Now.
Exhale. Inhale.
He's opening the doows of the commode.
Now.
He's tuwning awound.
Now.
Now.
''Now, do I need to hold your dick while you piss too?''
NOW.
Oh, shit.
''Well, well. You sting, little catholic.''
The handle is sticking out of his chest!
''You came to my house, you ate the food from my table, and then you tried to kill me. Only parasites kill their hosts. And you thought you can kill a god with cutlery?''
Dobermans!
''You have thirty seconds to get the fuck out of here, before I let my dogs at you.''
Oh, God!
''Run, boy, RUN!''
Chapter fifty seven
Krav Maga
''Kristen! Wait!''
She's not slowing down.
''Please Kristen, I can't walk that fast!''
She's not talking to me since this accident that occurred. Not just that she's not talking to me, but she's ignoring my whole existence. And she's walking so fast that I can't follow her. She wants me gone.
''Why are you so stubborn? I apologized, I'm sorry!''
We stole a motor boat, and headed for the gate of Al-Miraj. But, a horrible storm caught us, all with rain, thunders, and huge waves. Marky the moron fell out, and he pulled me with him, and I, repeating his course of action, grabbed Kristen's shirt as I was falling, and pulled her with us. It was an accident. We screamed for others, but they didn't return for us. Kristen and I made it to the shore, we didn't see that fucking retard anymore. She punched me. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face said it all. I'm following her ever since.
She's not slowing down. She doesn't care about anything I say, she doesn't give a fuck about me. And I tried so hard.
''Will you just fuckin' listen to me! The only reason I came to this fuckin' journey was you, I followed you like a little dog, and I'm still following you! I did horrible, evil things along with the others, just to be close to you, and you don't want to give me a promille of your attention!''
She stopped.
''You are a disease, Alden.''
She turned around.
''You are a tick that digs itself in the lifes of others, because you don't have a life of your own, and you don't know how to go away. I keep telling you I don't want you around me, but you just don't understand, you're staring at me like a stupid little animal. No more. I'm taking you out, Alden. We're done.''
''You little slut! Don't turn your back on me!''
I pulled her ba-
''AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! AAAH! AAAH! WHAT THE FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME?! YOU BROKE MY ARM! CHRIST GOD! AND MY LEG!''
''It's called Krav Maga. Only your leg is broken. Your arm's dislocated.''
''SHIT! SHIT! WAIT, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! I CAN'T MOVE KRISTEN, YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE! KRISTEN! YOU FUCKIN' BITCH, AT LEAST COME BACK AND FINISH ME YOURSELF! DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU SELFISH LITTLE SLUT! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! TURN AROUND! ''
I'll show you... I'll show you... I'll break both of your... tiny little legs... you're not going anywhere...
''DIE!''
Oh, shit. Oh, shit, what did I do?!
''Kristen? Kristen?!''
She's not moving. Oh, god, I killed her.
''Please, Kristen say something!''
Oh, god. I killed her.
''HELP! HELP! CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?! I NEED HELP! HELP! HEEEEEEEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!''
Chapter fifty eight
Bbbwwwrrrrgggkkkhaaa
''Engelherz, where are we going now?!''
''You will see.''
Three days. Three days on the road, driving from one weird place to another, shiting and pissing in the bushes, eating things that are not edible, and sleeping in the car. Engelherz said he'll help us find a way home, but somehow I doubt he has that on his mind. His behaviour is erratic, this presentation of him as a free spirit of nature that impressed Edwin so much, is not holding up anymore. He's a man on the edge of his nerves. Neither once did his green eyes look at mine when he spoke, and when I speak to him, he's barely showing any signs that he's listening. This is the man we depend on.
Yesterday, he dragged us to some enclave populated with black African people. There, he extorted cash from some unfortunate guy, using threats. He said he collected a debt. From there he took us to some military warehouse, where he bought some electronic display with wires sticking out of it, from a black guy in a military uniform. He spoke some English. He asked us are we his biographers. And I can't shake the impression that it wasn't some three figured dimension we visited, but that it was simply Africa.
Engelherz has some maps that I can't read, but I think I know what they're for. I think he uses them to predict the locations of appearances of dimensional cracks. Who knows how many times did Engelherz drove us through these portals without us even noticing. Maps are drawn by hand on a plastic transparent sheet. He probably drew them himself. He uses them by putting several sheets over each other. One sheet is, that much I understand, geography of the area. Second one is a time map, minute, hour, day, month, year. Third one could be thermal map. For the rest, I don't have any idea what they could be. It's possible that when all necessary parameters are combined, time and place of the opening of the crack can be predicted.
God, if that yesterday really was Africa, we were so close to home.
He stopped the car in the middle of an empty dirt road, and turned off the engine.
''Did you see it?!''
''Saw what?''
He got out of the jeep, and went off the road. Edwin and I went after him.
Sweet Jesus...
''Do you see it now?''
Gnawed human skeleton. Covered in flies.
''Bbbwwwwww... Bbbwwwrrrrgggkkkhaaa...''
Edwin puked.
''Don't look at it, Ed.''
I got him water from the car.
''Wash out.''
''It's that guy from the convention...'', he mumbled: ''Look at his shirt...''
Shit... Covered in blood and ripped to pieces... Patriots shirt. It's the guy that punched me.
''What could have done something like this?!''
''I don't know'', said Engelherz: ''Piranhas? Siafu ants, maybe. North-African cannibal pixies...''
Did he say 'cannibal pixies'?! A vision flashed before my eyes, of flock of Tinkerbells attacking the patriot and eating him to the bare bones. Morbid. I'm going mental.
''This place is freakin' me out. Throw something over him, and let's get the
fuck out of here.''
Chapter fifty nine
Fan nonfiction
A distorted picture, much like a mirage, appeared directly in front of us, and Marco drove through. That was a crack between worlds. Our surroundings changed to a gravel road that led through the fields, and forked many times, before it took us through the forest, and ended in front of a cave in the mountainside.
See the image below, of the spectacular cave's entrance:
''I must counsel Sibylla, her words may foretell the outcome of our journey'', spoke Marco, and my veins ran with excitement, for I realized we are about to enter the dwelling of the Sibyl, oracle of the ancient world. Marco paid what is due, and her servants led us through the bowels of the mountain. Lit by flaming torches along the way, we entered the chamber of the Sibyl.
And what a site did we encounter! A green flame rose from the floor of the chamber, all the way to its ceiling, creating a wall of fire, behind which a black silhouette of a naked female floated in the air. ''Wizard of Oz'', muttered Hubert to his chin.
Marco climbed the stairs of the platform, from which he spoke to her, kneeling down. ''Oh, great Sibylla, I seek your advice! I feel in my heart, that my moment has come! You know what I lust for, give me a good omen!'' A gentle female voice, almost the voice of a child, came from all sides of the chamber.
Immortal is the fame of colossus
Behind the walls of great tzar
But not every heros is destined for greatness
Nor every brightness a star
The oracle replied him in a wonderful quatrain, which I immediately wrote down, so I wouldn't leave it only to fragility of our memories. ''No! No! No!'', Marco was desperate for different words: ''Do not send me away like this!'', but the the Sibyl has spoken.
All of a sudden, Hubert approached the wall of fire. ''Okay, my turn. How many fingers am I holding behind my back?'' ''Do not insult the oracle!'', Marco yelled at him. ''I'll give you two tries'', continued Hubert. Unexpectedly, she replied. ''Even your will can be broken, even your intellect can be fooled.'' ''What, no quatrains for me?''
And then they kicked us out.
''At least you got my dialogues right'', said Hubert.
He said that because I decorated Marco's sentences a bit. Makes it more dramatic.
''Read to me Sibylla's prophecy once more'', said Marco: ''Slowly.''
He's trying to analize words of the quatrain, looking for hidden meaning. But, I'm afraid, it's meaning is clear. Not every hero is destined for greatness.
''Why are you still thinking about that?!'', said Hubert: ''Who ever coined those lyrics was obviously high on fumes. They don't mean anything! The whole thing is just a stage show, with fire and choir of hidden children. I proved her fake.''
''She said you will be broken and fooled.''
''It didn't even rhyme!''
''It doesn't have to rhyme!''
I have to interrupt their bickering.
''So, Marco, does this mean that you are stopping your hunt for the bidsprinkhaan?''
''I will never stop.''
''How about taking us home, and then continuing the hunt?'', said Hubert.
''As soon as en convenient crack opens, I will take you back. Until then, we must use de cracks that are around us.''
''I will stop at nothing!'', exclaimed he, when I asked him is this the end of our pursuit of titans and primordial monsters, and we drove on, against the wind, and against the prophecy...
Chapter sixty
Squid Humbolt
I don't know who did they kill to get so mighty, but Lempo literally opened a portal with his hands, and we stepped into the three sixty two. I'm standing in front of the wall that surrounds the fort of Scaramouche. It's at least thirty feet high, and goes on for miles on both sides from where I am. I saw several checkpoint entrances, with Arab peddlers around selling sodas, and silk, and stuff. I guess they need to make money to support all those wives. Turkish delight.
''Nah, man, I'm broke...''
They don't speak any English. I guess they don't need it here. According to Kayla, behind these walls are the only natural wormholes that lead to the next level. Personal property of Scaramouche.
Them three went walking along the wall, I told them that if I see Laszlo, I'll tell him that they're lookin' for him. They're looking for you to kill you. Because you're armed and dangerous. Because you need to be evil, so they could live on their fantasy of heroism. Well, who else motherfucker, everyone else is dead. Because you drank my coconut juice! I needed it for bushwackers! Nobody's asking you, you're the villain now. Because you're strange.
Bullshit.
You wanna hear something really strange? Strange and true. About the word Afrikaners use for the praying mantis. Hottentotsgot. God of the Hottentots. Hottentots being their word for local black people, who, for some reason, thought that mantis is god. How could anyone believe that something so ugly is god? Nature couldn't create a creature more disgusting. It eats those it fucks. And still, every time I see one, I get a boner. I can't shoot off, without thinking about them. Something went very wrong with me when I was a kid. TV did this to me, TV and all its evils. It conditioned me. Wait, someone looking at me. A white guy, with a big-ass camera 'round his neck, and hands in his pockets. I didn't notice when he appeared. He doesn't strike me as a Russian, he's curly, has a goatee.
''Hey, man'', I said.
''Hey, what's up!''
One of ours. I shook his hand.
''Jove Mansell.''
''Squid Humbolt.''
''Are you like a journalist, or a reporter, or somethin'?''
''Yeah, I wish'', he laughed: ''Nah, I'm just taking photos of this place. This here is the apex, the furthest reach of human beings. It cost me time and money to get here. You're the first anglophone that I've seen around. Are you here for the happening?''
''No. I'm here with some friends. We're looking for someone.''
''I thought that maybe some source independent from mine brought you here with the same conclusion.''
''What conclusion?''
''That this here is the plain of Armageddon, from Revelation of John. That this is the place where it will begin, the end of the world.''
''And you know this how?''
''Well, I have come into possession of some ancient lost documents.''
He took some bundle of papers out of his bag, and showed them to me.
Maniacs in The Fourth Dimension Page 16
