Happy Halloween

Was it a Spirit, a Monster, or a Sorcerer?

Ah, yes. Sometimes these rural simpletons bore me. Concerning the slaughter of birds and bunnies, these are my findings: The following day we accompanied Forrest to the fortified steel cages were he had cleverly placed the stricken rabbits. They were strong cages, but the sight that presented itself was one of horror. My werewolf companion began to slather with a mix of anger, and I suppose hunger.
One of the rabbits was flayed and headless near the outer cage door. Another was headless within the cage, while another was high up on a shelf where the unfortunate late pigeons used to perch. Its liver lay next to the mangled body. None of the animals had been consumed properly, proving that it was a killing for malicious reasons alone.
“What sort of magic is this?” Forrest screamed in frustration before vomiting. “How is it that the cage door is securely locked, yet the rabbits are dead?”
I looked and saw that indeed, the cage was soundly locked, but I smelled no sorcery. Then I saw it. “Observe,” I said. “The creature crawled through the feeder and into the cage. It had to be long and quite skinny.”
“How did it get the large rabbits out of the cage?” he asked.
“Hmm…” I mused to myself. “Perhaps it broke their bones.”
Tigran roared and began to roll in the carrion. I was not in the mood to think about the subtleties of animal husbandry. “I will ask my minion to guard the animals,” I offered, pointing to Tigran.
Forrest shook his head. “That monster will eat the rest of them—I’m sure of that.”
“That is my offer. He will refrain from eating the rabbits, ducks, and chickens. I will allow him to eat one large Wal-Mart shopper before the night comes. Although it is certain to contain much of the dreaded cholesterol, he can digest it well,” I assured him.
“Well, okay, then. Just make sure it is an evil person,” he grumbled. I smiled and patted the werewolf’s red fur. It made a series of purring roars.

The Case of the Heinous Slaughter

I have explained to you before that I am living at the residence of a self-styled farmer by the name of KB Forrest. He owns well over 100 acres of land infested with every manner of varmint. He admits this, yet refuses to find a more habitable location. This morning he went to feed animals, which he keeps for some sort of sadistic pleasure. He has furry rabbits, pigeons with tails like peacocks, and some with feathers sprouting in topknots from their heads. There are strange quail, ducks, chickens, peacocks, pheasants, and all manner of rare creatures that seem to have been bred by a madman.
In any case, when he returned to the house, I was foraging for a morning meal with my fledgling Tigran, who was tearing up a bag he found. I do not know what it contained. I noticed that the man, Forrest, looked dejected and unhappy. Being a good guest, I asked why? He said that although he had fortified the large cages thoroughly, something had magically entered one of them and had killed all of his beloved pigeons. The apparition, as he called it, had done other unspeakable damage. He asked for my help.
I followed him with Tigran loping alongside me. I saw a profusion of colorful feathers strewn about. It made Tigran hungry, but I cautioned him to refrain. A flayed skull of a bird was the first flesh I saw. Next, what was once a graceful white bird lay with its belly torn open and the ribs cleaned of flesh. A mound of bird legs and heads were in a corner, but mostly they had been simply killed and thrown to the side.
The most grotesque sight was the rabbits. They had been white with dark ears and a profusion of fur around the necks. He called them “lion heads.” Three of them had been attacked, but not killed. Two had missing eyes. All had been mauled about the face and were bloodied. I even saw one struggling to breathe.
“Why do you not put them to death so as to stop their suffering?” I asked. But I should have known that squeamish man would refuse, saying that he would try to save them. “Would you like me to kill them, then?” I offered, knowing that he was simply delicate.
“How could the creature have gotten in? There are no holes in the wire,” he asked, avoiding my question. “I have sealed off any means of entry!” he cried.
“I will investigate,” I said, thinking that if any evil were perpetrated in my area, I would not allow it unless it was my own. Sorcerers are quite territorial. I will investigate and tell you my findings.

Ha!! Do You See The Evil Glint in His Eye??

So Little Time, So Many Enemies to Kill!! The Sorcerer Gaumata

I was happy now with both Rustem and Cyrus the Great dead. I had punished them for deforming my lovely body. But I was not completely satisfied. It was enough to make me rub my hands together in a kind of ecstasy. It had all gone so well. Very well, except for the fact that his original goal had not been accomplished. But they were all dead now. The King of Kings, Cyrus the Great, lay in a tomb rotting. The sorcerers Rustem and his twice-cursed sorceress wife Anahita were nothing but old shits of the buzzards that had consumed their flesh.

There was much to do yet. The next on my list was whoever would succeed Cyrus and become the next King of Kings. That would be relatively easy, but a few things stood in my way. Two of them were the children of Rustem and Anahita. I spat in disgust. I had to deal with them. And it wasn’t easy. Possessing someone was something I reveled in, but it wasn’t like I could possess two people at once. With so much work to do, I’d have to do some head hopping. It might make me easier to catch, though.

Well, for now, I would find a very good place to stash my body while I visited—and I would have to find a more trustworthy servant than the one I had just killed. That wretch! He had done a bad job of caring for my body. It smelled, and the limbs had become stiff. Although he left my fingernails grow absurdly long, he had allowed a mouse to chew on my toenails, which were chewed bloody. That hurt like hell even now. Do you still feel sorry for him? Do you still think I was too harsh? Perhaps you would do the same, so do not be so judgmental. 

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-eternal-fox-sorcerer/

They Say Possession is 9/10s of the Law--I Possess People--The Sorcerer Gaumata

By the time I had been in the mind of the King of Kings, Cyrus the great, for seven years, I was bored and ready for a change. The brat Mihr had grown to be a young man, but Rustem visited him and in a way, like I did, he possessed the boy. He did this so that he could still advise the king. I found myself paralyzed at times like those, but I quickly learned that he could only speak though Mihr.

I began to impersonate Rustem, so that I would speak through the king’s mouth, but to him, he heard his dear advisor. One day Mihr caught me advising in this manner. What he heard me saying was this:

“Your Lordship must protect the eastern regions of your vast kingdom. We have discovered that the tribe that calls themselves the Massagetae has decided not only to challenge your over- lordship, but they are also instigating rebellion throughout the lesser kingdoms. As I have interpreted your dream, you see that the truth of my words is evident. In addition, you have heard yourself that the evil that will come to you will start in the east. Like the god Mithra, you must sweep in from the east and devastate any state that dares oppose you. In addition, the queen that rules that kingdom would make a fine supplement to your maidservants, if you catch my drift...”

I was, of course, encouraging him to attack one of his satrapies. It was a powerful one, and I hoped that he would end up dead in the scuffle. Mihr flew through the door and began to shake his sacred Kusti rope screaming, “Be gone, demon!” He surely felt my presence.

Cyrus began to explain the plan to attack the Massagetae to Mihr, but Rustem came to the surface and began to tell him that this was all wrong. The king stared at Mihr as if he were mad, for remember, he believed that Rustem, not I, had been advising him.

He screamed, “What do you tell me? Have you gone mad? Perhaps you are ill, Rustem? Never mind, prepare, for we are going to war. I am convinced that this rebellion must be quelled and I will see to it myself. Do you not remember that the Emperor Astyages, my grandfather, allowed a certain rebellion to get out of hand? Look what happened to him! Ha! The land of the Massagetae will swarm with the royal army and they will be the example I will set for people who oppose me, as you so elegantly stated before that crazy outburst.” Cyrus sat back on his throne gathering his strength. He blinked, and now he saw Mihr, not Rustem.

“Mihr, I am getting old now. My two strong sons, Cambyses II and Bardiya, are eager for me to die so they can rule. If I have to die, it will be in battle, not being tended by the women as I lie in bed. No, I will continue in my glory until the gods see fit to take me. Ah...perhaps the gods don’t even care. They’re probably too busy getting drunk,” he said with a dry chuckle.

“Well, what do you think of this?” he asked. “I will first propose marriage to the Queen Apuyani of the Massagetae. If she accepts the proposal, then there will be no need to waste the time and men that it will take to secure her kingdom. I can simply annex it.”

Mihr nodded dumbly.

“See to it that a messenger is sent immediately with the message and gifts. We should, nevertheless prepare for war. I do not believe that my proposal will be accepted.”

So my plans to kill Cyrus the Great were put into place.

http://www.extasybooks.com/taino-ti-6/

The Meaning of the Nightmare--The Sorcerer Gaumata

As I said, this was the first time I had entered a person who was deep in a dream. It was disorienting. I felt Cyrus woke with a start.  Sweat was beaded up on his brow and upper lip.  His night clothes were damp with cold perspiration.  But he remembered the dream, as I did!  I sensed that he dared not go to sleep again because he has had this dream before, only he would always forget the dream by the time the morning would come. 
Now I discovered another strange anomaly. Cyrus is able to exert his will at times, even when I tried to take over. Yes, I had noticed that this was the case with Rustem, but he was, after all, a sorcerer. Perhaps he had put some sort of protective spell on the king. I did not know, so it worried me. It took much energy to even guide his thoughts. 
Cyrus waited for a moment in his enormous bed, sitting still in the moonlit room with his head in his hands.  I regressed to a corner of his mind, waiting, for I felt weakened. When his panicked heartbeat returned to normal, he reached out for the bell on his nightstand and began to clang it vigorously.  When the wild-eyed servant rushed in, disheveled and panicked, the King of Kings said, “Get the magi.  Assemble them into the council chamber without delay.”

There was a short silence as the magi glanced at each other after the emperor related his dream to them. The candlelight did not entirely banish the darkness in the Council Chamber and the utter silence outside added to the air of a secret meeting.
“Ahem...” Monushir the Head Mage looked at the others. “Well, speak!” Cyrus demanded. “This dream, as you well know, is remarkably similar to the dream of Astyages, the Median Emperor, and your grandfather. Will you permit me to retell this noble tale for the sake of the young magi?” Monushir asked.
Cyrus waved him on.
“As you recall, Astyages had dreamed that a great flood came from his daughter, Mandane’s womb, and had flooded the world. Calling the magi to interpret the dream, they told the Mede that his daughter’s womb would produce the man who would overthrow him. Wanting to avert such a disaster, Astyages married her to an unambitious Persian by the name of Cambyses and then sent the couple off to rule Persia. He thus tried to insure that his daughter’s son would not be a threat. He would be a Persian, owing to his father’s lines, and he would live far from the capital. Astyages had no peace, however. Later, as the dream returned, haunting his days and nights, he decided to kill the child that his daughter and the Persian, Cambyses, had produced.” He tuned to the young magi. “You understand now, that this baby would become none other than our lord, Cyrus the Great, King of Kings.” He bowed and continued.

“Sending a trusted soldier by the name of Harpagus to Persia to perform the evil deed, Emperor Astyages tried to forget about the affair and to regain some of his peace of mind. To his dismay, the dreams did not go away. They became worse. What Astyages did not know, was that the soldier had been so affected by the pleas of the princess for the innocent, but regal baby Cyrus, that instead of killing it, he left the baby prince with peasants whose baby had just died. As time passed, the child’s kingly bearing set him apart from the other peasant boys and soon the tales of a princely child reached the ears of the great Astyages, who began to suspect that his grandson Cyrus was not dead after all.”
To be continued…

http://www.extasybooks.com/burned-dreams-8/

Enter the Demons--The Sorcerer Gaumata

Enough of this! I used this vile custom against my enemy. Rustem stared at his daughter with his mouth agape, then ordered her out to the Bleeding Hut. She began to cry and the Sorceress Anahita took pity on her and went with her to the cold and dark hut. The women had to leave the house now, because I would make sure that Rustem adhered to the custom of isolating menstruating females, no matter that he was terrified of being alone. The mother seemed determined to accompany her daughter to the bleeding hut. That was an unexpected boon, for she was the real problem. I chuckled again when I considered the thrill of sharing and enhancing Rustem’s fear. I rubbed my hands together and grinned at the image of Rustem gawking at the awful red stain, and feeling the demons crowd into the room. In his mind, the poor, big lout could hear the demons scuttling awkwardly, and his hands shook as his eyes darted around the room. This is going to be fun, I thought.

http://www.extasybooks.com/pride-of-the-beast/

Why the Magi Think Women are Demons Sometimes--The Sorcerer Gaumata

You are not from these times, so I will explain Rustem’s terror. The magi had strange and fantastic beliefs. One was that when a woman menstruated, she was actually possessed by a demon. The blood was the indication of that possession. This story came from the fables of the Magi.

I will retell the story as far as I can remember:

It says in the Tradition that, in the beginning of time, the God Ahura Mazda and the Evil Spirit Ahriman had to fight for dominion. Ahura Mazda created man, who could help and support the god.  When the Foul Spirit saw that both he and the demons would be undone by the Righteous Man (the first man created by the god), he was stunned. For 3000 years he lay stunned.

         During that stupor, the animal-headed demons one by one lied, speaking into his ear: “Rise up, our father, for we will fight such a battle that Ahura Mazda, the God, will be in dire straits!”

         One by one they enumerated their evil deeds in detail.

         It did not pacify the wicked Foul Spirit, Ahriman, and he did not rise from his stupor for fear of the Righteous Man until the wicked Whore came at the completion of the 3000 years and lied: “Rise up, our father, for in that battle I shall let loose so much harm upon the Righteous Man and the toiling Bull that their lives will not be worth living. I shall steal their Fortune, I shall harm the water, the earth, the fire, the plant, and the entire creation established by Ahura Mazda!”

         She enumerated her evil-doings in such detail that the Foul Spirit was pacified. He jumped out of his stupor and placed a kiss on the Whore’s head. The pollution now called “menses” appeared on the Whore then.

         The Foul Spirit lied to the Whore: “Ask for whatever you want, and I will give it to you!”

         Then Ahura Mazda knew in his omniscience that, at that time, the Foul Spirit was able to give the Whore what she wanted and that she would acquire much profit thereby.

      The Foul Spirit’s body was like a frog to look at, but he showed a man like a 15-year-old youth to the Whore and bound the Whore’s mind to him.

         The Whore lied to the Foul Spirit: “Give me the desire for man, so that I can sit down as his ward in his house!”

    The Foul Spirit lied to her: “I shall not tell you to ask for anything again, for you only know how to ask for profitless, bad things.” But the time had passed, and if she had asked for it, he would not have been able to give it to her.

In the minds of the magi, this story means that human women, because of having the curse of menstruation placed upon them, will take on the qualities of the demonic Whore. Indeed, they are possessed by foul demons during this time. The men force them out of the house, even if it is freezing outside, and make them stay in the “Bleeding Hut,” as they call it. The woman is not given warmth, and they receive little food, which is passed through a hole in the wall as if the woman were a prisoner. She is not allowed to leave for five days. It is a cruel and senseless act against women. I find the magi to be hypocrites. They call me evil, but they are even more evil. At least I admit my evil and embrace it.

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-eternal-fox-sorcerer/

Finally I Found Myself Inside the Head of My Enemy--The Sorcerer Gaumata

As I hoped, one night Rustem secretly left the palace compound with his family. He did not inform the king about his intentions, for he thought he could escape me. He did not want anyone to know his whereabouts, but I found him. I remember that night fondly, although there were some dire difficulties in store for me yet.  
I chuckled softly as I entered the house, my steps as light as a breeze. I felt a thrill course through me as I realized that it was all within my reach now. They were within reach. They had eluded me for so long, but now I was actually looking down at the sleeping figures. I rubbed my hands together in expectation and wanted to clap, but this would surely awaken them. Then I remembered that I was nothing but a mental being now, for I had the power to leave my body and enter another’s for a longer period. This made me smile so broadly that my cheeks hurt. Yes, I still thought I could feel that, but it was because I maintained a connection with my own body, which was surely grinning now as I grinned.
Things seemed so clear as I had made my plans yesterday, but now...It was impossible to get into Rustem’s head when he was awake, and there was no way I would try the woman. As I have said before, I have sworn off women a long time ago. I stared down at them, anxiety beginning to scratch at my mind like an insect at a window seeking the light of the house from the darkness of the night. “What if one of them wakes up?” a timid voice in my mind nagged. Now I felt my fury rise as I tried to push down my fear. Fear. How could I ever feel fear? My power was growing stronger every day. Now if I could only take care of Rustem, my nemesis.
The woman stirred slightly and I panicked. I looked behind me and saw the closed door. She moved again, her hair lit by the moonlight that entered the crack of a wall. My body was safely tucked away in a hollow of a tree far from here, but I knew she would see me anyway. The bitch had power and an uncanny vision. She would have to die.
She tossed again now, and driven by my terror, I suddenly dived into Rustem’s mind. I immediately knew I would regret my haste. Rustem gave a sudden spasm as I entered, panic-stricken and crouching silently in a corner of his mind. I dared not show myself until the time was right. I needed the man to be weakened somehow. I needed the woman to be gone. I was like a parasite now, except that I could see through Rustem’s eyes and feel with his body. I decided to wait. It wasn’t the time to take control yet.

http://www.extasybooks.com/fire-demon/

The Sorcerer Gaumata--People are Cruel and Perverse

For now I found myself in an awkward situation. I knew I would be reprimanded, but I never imagined the punishment they were planning.
They took me to stand before the King of Kings, Cyrus the Great.
“I suggest death,” Rustem said.
“Yes, my friend. I respect your judgment, but for this time, make him an example for other evil mages,” Cyrus suggested.
“Very well. Chop off his ears!” Rustem ordered.
I was shocked and horrified. This punishment was worse than death. I would be disfigured for the rest of my life. People would look at me and know my disgrace. A large soldier approached me with his dagger unsheathed. Slowly he cut my ears off, one by one. The pain was unspeakable. I never thought anything could hurt that much. The ears are very sensitive. I never knew how much.
I was released, and I fell to the ground screeching in agony. I writhed for hours until finally I fell into unconsciousness. Nobody tended to my wounds. I woke to the buzzing of flies laying eggs into the wounds where my ears had once been. The throbbing pain threatened to drive me insane, but dreams of revenge helped me as I staggered to the woods.
My teeth chattered as I muttered spells in an attempt to ease my pain. I had not learned spells to ease pain, for healing spells seemed worthless to me. I never knew that I myself would need them. Tears gushed from my eyes as I continued to gnash my teeth and cry out. Pain tore through me like streams of fire. I swore through all of this that Rustem, Cyrus, and all of their descendants would pay for my suffering.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/kitsune-tsukis-possession/

Journal of the Sorcerer Gaumata--My First Attempt to Possess a King

On the night that I decided to test my skills of long-term possession, it was crisp and rather cold. I journeyed into the forest by foot, careful that I was not observed. I had found what I thought was an ingenious hiding place for my body. It was in a dense part of the woods. I shivered with cold and excitement. I dared not wear voluminous robes, for the spot where I would hide was small. I breathed in the moist night air and paused to listen to the sounds of the night. I heard insects, rodents, and the hooting of a large owl. The leaves rustled both on the ground and in the trees as the wind blew the dry ones. It was soon to be winter. 
The large tree I stood before was dark now. The big hole in its trunk had looked quite suitable in the daytime, but now it was very dark and I knew not what lurked within. Perhaps I had chosen the den of a fox. I felt uneasy, for my body would remain vulnerable while my spirit ranged like that of an owl. Again, I remind you that this was one of the problems I faced. I screwed up my courage and muttered the curses I had learned while living among the Persian magi. They detested insects, frogs, lizards, snakes, mice, rats, and their ilk. They concocted spells to destroy these creatures they called xrafstars. I personally did not wish to share space with a poisonous spider or even a cockroach. Soon I was to discover that these were the least of my problems.
I squeezed into the space and felt the chill increase. Being a mage, I blocked my discomfort and began to work my magic. Soon I felt my spirit soaring over the plain of Verethragna and toward the royal palace. I found King Cyrus the Great, and as he yawned, covering his mouth with a bejeweled hand, I entered his mouth and made my way into his mind. He seemed startled at first, but he didn’t see me. This was very good news. I laughed and rubbed my hands together until in a paroxysm of ecstasy, I clapped them together mightily.
I had done it. Now it was a matter of becoming comfortable and learning how to control him. I observed carefully. He was seated in a less magnificent throne in his private quarters. The great, soft pillows were made of brocaded silk in bright colors. Pure gold threads woven into the designs made the upholstery glint in the lights of the many braziers in the large room. The king’s sword hung on a gold knob at the side of the throne, which was large enough to accommodate three people. He took a languid sip of the exquisite wine in his goblet as a woman entered. The servant announced her formally as queen Faranak, youngest queen among the many Cyrus had married. I wrung my hands in anxiety. I had not factored this in. Surely I had to somehow control what might occur. Yes, I must!

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-in-egypt/

From the Sorcerer Gaumata's Journal--How I Committed My First Monstrous Crime--Warning: not for the weak

Ha!!! It was the one act that finally allowed me entrance into the ranks of the sorcerers. Dear readers, do you really think it is as easy as reading a book on black magic? No. Despite the fact that my "talent" was inborn, I needed one black act to burst out of the bubble of normal life and finally pass over into the realm where one truly has given up all troublesome signs of humanity. True--I had committed crimes before this, but cold blooded murder is different. Whenever I think of it, my body quickens. I could actually feel the darkness as it came over me. Delicious! The power that was unleashed made me burst with joy so much that I rubbed my hands together rapidly until in a flash of ecstasy, I clapped them. Sparks flew out around me and I began to dance. 

I was twenty years of age, a grown man, when I finally killed my mother. We still lived in the small, one-room hut with the dirty sheet separating us. My mother changed men often. It seemed that her career as a whore had given her a perverse taste for the worst of them. This time my mother had come home with a fat man who had begun to undress even before he had retreated to his side of the sheet. He regarded me with a lascivious stare. His eyes were nearly hidden in the porcine face, but I still could see them dully watching me as he stroked his lower belly, which was as close as he could get to the stubby penis that peeked out from the mounds of flesh.

The obese man’s thighs were rolls of fat that jiggled as his excited manhood peeped out. My mother began to protest that I was watching. The man didn’t respond. Instead, he fell upon her and began to rip off her clothes. Her protestations became weak and within minutes, the whore was responding to him with her own grunts. They were rutting swine. I was disgusted.
I waited for a few minutes until my disgust became unbearable and then I got up and looked at them for a minute. The fat man’s behind was spread obscenely as he completely covered my mother. She saw me for a moment, but the man’s meaty face covered both her nose and mouth with his thick lips as he began to suck on her face. I went out and breathed the air. It seemed to me that the smell of their obscene, goatish mating had left its scent on me forever. Taking the oil lamp I still held in my hand, I spilled the oil all around the thatch roofed wooden hut. I then barred the door from the outside and tossed the lighted lamp and whatever oil remained onto the hut. It caught in an instant.

I first heard the high-pitched and frantic screams of my mother and then the bellowing of the fat man. I wondered if it was finally hot enough for her. I wondered if her itch had finally been satisfied. The screaming continued and the man threw himself against the door until it finally collapsed and he emerged, his entire naked body burning as if the accumulated fat in that corpse could burn like that for a month. He ran away from the hut, only to fall with his arms outstretched and his blackened body twitching fiercely. My mother stayed in the inferno. Now I was finally a whole man.

My Vacation with the Sorcerer Gaumata

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerers-daughter-2

My dear readers: I have been away for some time with a dear friend, the evil mage Gaumata. He enjoys his fame as an vicious sorcerer, and so I make no excuses for him. In any case, he is terribly old fashioned, and although he is fascinated with the idea of a blog to tell his story, he refuses to touch a computer. He has asked me to take his dictation and post his story. Perhaps he can be convinced to have his own page soon and leave me to my own musings. 

The great and powerful black-hearted sage Gaumata says:

First entry: My cursed birth, my whorish mother, and my sorcerer father.

My wonderful inscription at Behistun will tell my history in Persian, Babylonian, and Elamite.  I will be famous for all time, but you, the reader of this magical text, will know my true story.  I am Gaumata the Sorcerer, now known as Darius the Great of Persia.

It is my secret, but how can I gloat if I think that nobody will ever know?  This is my journal—my story, and I will have it interred with this body.  I have already enlisted the help of the best mage in the world.  He will make sure that this journal and my remains are protected from grave robbers, but later, perhaps in two thousand years, it will emerge and people will know the truth.  Do you think I really trust that mage with such a responsibility?  No indeed!  If he only knew!  I chose him because he is young and strong and his mind is devious.  I plan not to die, but to use my precious black sorcery to take his body, as I have taken the body of Darius as a vehicle for my great mind.  Maybe later another great man will emerge—a man perhaps greater than Darius the Great!  Ha!  But let us start from the beginning.

It all started as a happy accident. I was a miserable lad of five years living with that whore who gave birth to me. She was never a mother to me, but treated me like she would a stray dog. We lived in the town of Fugasa in the Sogdian outlands. I remember her, this mother of mine. She would scream, “Don’t look at me! You have the evil eye, just like that father of yours! What a demon sorcerer he is!”

Over and over she would tell the story. “I was only a child, just a girl. So tender and beautiful! My father died when blood ran with his piss. It was probably the doing of the sorcerer, for a sorcerer can put a curse on a man and truly he will die! Listen my son, for you cannot blame me for hating you! That evil man, after my father was dead and my mother left destitute, he came to us. He offered money and a home to my mother, and she, the weakling that she was, sold me to him. I was glad for what happened to her for that crime!

“Do you know, you craven scarecrow, that I later saw her body after it had been tossed into a refuse heap, and I wasn’t even grieved? How could I be? That man used me, a scrap of a little girl! He stuck that thing into me right here!” she would point to the place between her legs.

“Again and again for over a year he did this to me until finally I was round in the belly with child. With you! Then he stopped. One day he just disappeared and I stayed like a beaten goat in the place he had paid for. I stayed until the landlord took me by the hair and threw me out. Later, his wily wife came and got me out of the gutter. Why not sell her to the men who frequent our rooms? She said to her husband. After that I was forced to be a whore. Now do you know why I hate you? You have those eyes! The same eyes as him—a murky green with an ochre center. I said don’t look at me!”

That was what I had to suffer. I remember the bitter cold nights I passed without a blanket and with an empty stomach. Now I can eat delicacies of any kind, but as a child, I starved. Sometimes the men who pleasured themselves on my mother would come and beat me, as if their sexual scratching stirred within them hate and violence. Yes, I do think that was why.

Fox Sorcerer excerpt

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-eternal-fox-sorcerer/

Ashiya Doman rushed toward the cave, which was their meeting place. He cursed his faith in the demons. What had that devil Vatapi done? The day seemed extraordinarily dry, and he was relieved when he finally veered off the road and started into the wooded area. The trees made it dark and brooding. Fear began to tamp down the rage that was bubbling in his breast. He realized that he could do nothing against the demon, but just remembering his helpless anguish as the demon quaffed the contents of the vial made his anger blot out his sanity.
He had concealed the opening of the cave with branches and leaves. As he snatched them away, he smelled the vile odor of the demon. It was a stench similar to that of a snake, but with undertones of decay and something indescribably worse. He heard the demon’s rasping breath and rage welled up in him.
“Explain!” he screamed.
The oni Vatapi was leaning against the wall of the cave eating the leg of some animal—or was it a human? He scratched the place between his massive horns with a hand that sported horrifically long and sharp yellowing nails. He wore bright red hakama trousers and a sort of vest that was decorated with what appeared to be human nails and teeth. He smiled, letting the blood drip from his fangs.
“Ah, so you come to complain. Well, I did what you wanted and gave Abe no Seimei the poison.”
Doman was trembling with rage. “Then why does he live?”
The oni shrugged. “It is poison for us demons. Abe no Seimei is one of us, you know, but he is also one of you.”
“What do you mean by that? What did you give him?” Ashiya sputtered.
“I thought the nectar would kill him. It kills demons. I told you, that is why I did not take it for myself. You wanted him dead, and that was the only way, but it seems that he is equally human. The nectar made him immortal. You should have considered that.”
“But the nectar was for me! It was so that I could become immortal, not him! And then why did you drink the poison?” Doman’s voice was sore from screaming.
“It is poison to humans and animals. Demons can drink it and it will extend our lives at least twice. It was really quite good.”
“If you suspected that Abe no Seimei might survive drinking the nectar, then why did you not give him the poison, so that I might have the nectar still? You idiot!”
The demon’s rumbling laughter filled the cave. He roared with amusement. “Poor Doman, you are the idiot. Did you think I would trust you to live up to your agreement? You scheme and plot against an innocent man. How can I have faith that you would not do the same to me? Look at you! You are so feeble that you can barely stand. Your teeth are falling out and your balding head shines in the sun like a polished copper pot. If you had drunk the nectar, it would not have made you young. You would have had to be immortal in your present body—an eternal geezer. I was doing you a kind of favor. Anyway, we demons feel a sort of kinship with the half demons like Abe no Seimei—mostly because you humans despise us so much.” He took a savage bite from the leg he’d been gnawing on, and spit a large piece of cartilage in Doman’s direction. He beat his chest and roared, causing Doman to flee for his life.

The Eternal Fox Sorcerer--Abe no Seimei

http://www.devinedestinies.com/the-eternal-fox-sorcerer/

 The fox spirit is revealed in its shadow—Japanese folk wisdom.

     

    Andre finally learns the dreaded truth, the secret of how Abe no Seimei became the eternal fox sorcerer. He also ends up entering into a pact he didn’t expect. He is shocked when Seimei insists on going back home with Andre, who doesn’t know how he will deal with a thousand-year-old man in his own world. Will Seimei’s demon associates crash the plane? Will his mother, a hereditary miko shaman woman, guess the truth of Seimei? He is too frightened to think of the possibilities, but he is also ecstatic to think that they can be together. When Seimei decides to accompany Andre to see his Harvard advisor, the situation turns dire. Seimei reveals to him that the man he thought was his professor may actually be the reincarnation of his archenemy, Ashiya Doman. Will Andre and Seimei survive the encounter?

Yurei--Other Kinds of Ghosts in Japan

Another kind of Japanese ghost is the “Ghost Mother,” the spirit of a dead mother who returns to care for her living child. There are many stories from various areas of Japan telling of ghosts who may, for example, buy sweets for their babies and young children. The mother’s tie to her child allows her to remain to care for it. She is a benevolent figure, as long as the child is not harmed by someone, such as an angry father or stepmother, at which time she may become enraged.

Malevolent ghosts are another sort of ghost. Quite often they cause mischief and destruction. The ghosts of people who have died while trying to cross a mountain may try to mislead a person so that he or she will die and join the ghost in their lonely existence. Sometimes a ghost may create the illusion of a nice inn, for example, which in reality is the cave of a hungry beast. 
People who die at sea and become ghosts may follow a ship demanding to get a pail without a bottom. If they don’t get it, they will fill the ship with water so that it sinks. 
Fallen armies often come back in mass hauntings. Some individual dead samurai may return under specific circumstances or places associated with their deaths.

Hungry Ghosts

Why do the gaki ghosts merit a meal on O-Bon, the Japanese All-Soul’s day? Because ghosts can be the cause of misfortune, or even insanity. The separate altar for the ghosts is called the “gaki-dana,” and it serves the purpose of placating ghosts who may be hanging around waiting to do mischief. Buddhist monks will often set out a meal of rice for them before they take their own meals.
Ghosts are appeased so that they will stay away from the family, whereas it is hoped that the ancestors will take part in the family affairs as givers of good advice and good luck.
Especially in the case of the recently dead, people will communicate with their spirits, often relating their day’s events. This seems so much nicer than the way we tend to forget the dead.

Mr. Popo

Mr. Popo is confident of his sexuality. A real man wears pink.

Gaki--Hungry Ghosts in Japan

All-Souls Day in Japan and Hungry Ghosts

Bon is called “the Feast of the Lanterns” in Japan. It is celebrated in the summer to honor the souls of the dead. Bonfires are set at the tops of tall mountains so that the souls will be able to find their ways back. Mountain paths are also cleared so that the souls will be able to pass freely. 
One of the interesting features of these customs is the erecting of two kinds of altars. One is for the ancestors. Ancestors are the well-wishers of the family. Another altar is set for the gaki, or hungry spirits, which are ghosts who have nobody to feed them. 
People who have no descendents to offer them worship will become ghosts, but they are not alone. Women who die in childbirth, scorned lovers who die, people who commit suicide, and people who die with deep regrets may become ghosts. 
In my book, Oni Demons, there is the story of a woman whose father tricks her into believing that her indigent lover dumped her. She dies of grief, but returns to seek him out. The result is horrific.

http://www.devinedestinies.com/oni-devils/