Five: Episode 58 … Fol’s Fury

Five: Episode Fifty-Eight is based off the following book excerpt from my science fiction, supernatural, thriller, The Contingency Generation. 


Epsiode 58

Fol’s Fury


Fol roars with frustration when he sees his fur and paws. The scent of cat urine floods his nostrils. Dried scat, not quite camouflaged, lies piled about in the red dirt.

How disgusting.

To be an animal is worse than it is to be human. Both are nauseating. Animals aren’t useful to him for anything, but every human soul adds to the tally.

Hoping for fresher air, he climbs to the top of the ridge. The heat leaves him panting. The audible sound beats out a pattern. In his mind, it’s the sound of counting numbers rising in value far greater than Mortar’s. When the day of reckoning arrives….

In the cloudless sky, birds of prey circle in a lazy pattern. He watches them glide lower and lower until they finally disappear into tall grass nearby giving likely evidence of a kill.

The gigantic species, “Ornithur,” as they were once named, remind him of the enormous eagles Mortar sent to SHEOL to rescue SJ. The maneuver confirmed what he’s known for some time. SJ is an extremely valuable acquisition, and he’s not willing to concede his loss. It’s just a matter of time. When she encounters enough difficulties, she’ll come running back to him and not Mortar.

He paces around the boulder’s crest searching for his human trappings. Finding his wrist screen would be nice. Even though he’d have to paw it until he hit the right command sequence to discover exactly where he is.

The dry grassland and sparse trees mean water is scarce, but if Morbid responds quickly, he’ll be spared an encounter with the pride males.

Mortar said his grace would allow Fol’s punishment to always bring him somewhere near a pride where lion food and life abound, but he could care less. It could just as well be Antarctica. He hates being on the receiving end of Mortar’s grace.

It’s humiliating and totally unnecessary. The world is to be his kingdom. In what way does animal transformation reflect any portion of Mortar’s grace?

Fol was once the greatest of all the heralds.

He shakes his hairy halo and tries to spit his contempt, but a lion can’t spit. The curse of his rage is still in full transformation. Annoyed, he lunges toward a gathering of bush crows and sends them shrieking into the air.

Grace was the engine that set the course of his earthbound life in motion.

Grace is worse than death to him.

He roars again. Soon, he’ll have to fight a resident male to gain the food benefit of the pride’s lionesses.

How tiresome.

Still …. It’s a lion’s appetite that gnaws inside him, and only flesh and blood will satisfy.

In the end, the antelope becomes prey to the crafty lions, and so will Mortar’s silly game of souls be brought to a close. After all, what is eventual can only be delayed for a time. When Beast raises from the dead, all will see his complete beauty and form. It will be a sight so singular and unmatched that nothing in Mortar’s realm will be found to compare.  Father and son, both, alike, and the universe as witness to the glory of the two. To finally appear as his true self, a being far more glorious than any animal, human, or Mortar, is a longing he must soon satiate.

Until then, blood will have to do.


Dear Reader,

This blog post is an excerpt from my supernatural thriller, Five, presented in rough draft version. The posts appear weekly as my story development progresses. The story snippets will likely be full of typos, garbage, and confusion. I’m sure to regret allowing readers a sneak peak of the chaos involved in this process of making a finished book.

Someday, if I still have an audience, my book(s) and screenplays will be polished and for sale. Until then, my story snippets are free, but payment by “subscribing” with your email would be a nice gesture. For doing this you might get a discount on my purchasable work should that day ever arrive. All you get now is a notice via email of a new story episode that I have ready to read on my “blog.” I don’t sell my email list or do anything else with it.

Why am I doing this stupid and terrible thing—letting readers see my “off the cuff” story writing?

Book industry experts say that in today’s world of book marketing, an unknown author must build their own sales platform. I’m supposed to advance my platform by collecting readers, and for now, by blogging. Since I can’t imagine blogging about what I had for breakfast or the things my cat does, then instead, I’m blogging fiction excerpts of my work(s) in progress.

Thanks for slogging along. Maybe we’ll meet on a bookshelf someday.


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