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/

Cyrus the Great Meets the Queen of the Massagetae--The Sorcerer Gaumata

The barbarians were so close that it surprised Cyrus, who was now only thirty feet from his tent and already swinging his finely crafted sword at the heads of the wild-looking people. In his mind, he pictured the relief he would have carved into the mountain. He would have them portray him as a god-like hero borne aloft a Simurg bird with the sun symbol beneath him. Rows and rows of the vanquished barbarians would be pictured with their hands tied, being led to pay their homage to him. He would have to make sure that their costumes were depicted accurately. The Scythians and their pointed hats, the Massagetae with their calf-length robes, and those strange cloaks on the Scythian warriors! What were they made from? There were those among them with fierce masks on their faces. They were painted in eerie earth tones, but the impact was fantastic. As he mused, he continued to fight confidently, seeing that he was flanked by his able royal bodyguards. Not that he was afraid to fight like any other soldier, but his importance was naturally a consideration. His arm was beginning to ache.

Soon he was face-to-face with Queen Apuyani. You may be surprised to hear that a king, what to speak of a queen, would be fighting in a battle. Yes, in those days, kings were required to fight alongside the troops. If a queen wished to hold onto power, she too had to fight.

Many people suddenly stopped and the din of the melee seemed to dim around that spot. Cyrus was sure this woman was the queen, because of her regal bearing. He felt guilt now. She had appealed to him and assured him that her country was obedient to the throne, yet he had had killed her entire army, including her son. His face softened with a look of regret as Queen Apuyani approached, teeth bared in a mask of rage.

I knew it was time to take over before he stepped away from the fight.  The king’s eyes fogged over and he appeared to become furious. Swinging his sword as if imbued with demonic power, he dashed at the queen. His heavy sword hit her club with such intensity that she almost dropped it. The queen’s charger backed up and then flung himself forward. This sudden movement caught Cyrus off guard. The queen pulled a half-sword from its scabbard as they closed in.

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-gaumata-king-of-kings/

Massacre of the Massagetae--The Sorcerer Gaumata's Journal

By this time, Cyrus the Great was getting a reputation for being a bit zany—ha! After all, I was in his head. When he called his army together to move against the Massagetae, his advisors, especially the now adult Mihr, were against the campaign. It would be a disaster, they told him, but he cared not. So they left for the long journey. 

I have told you that Cyrus wanted to keep up the fantasy of his being god-like. People believed that he never defecated or even passed urine. Now, as the trip dragged on, he found it harder and harder to arrange a situation where he could relieve himself unseen. He became very constipated. This was my plan, of course.

The day arrived when we were very close to our destination. Our scouts reported that in the absence of the Queen, who had gone to secure allies, the foolish prince had tried to usurp the kingdom. Now the army of the Massagetae was in disarray. Cyrus ordered an attack, and most of the army was destroyed. This was very good, he thought, but he had not considered Queen Apuyani, who was to return with her allies.

The night after the massacre of the Massagetae army there was feasting and merriment in the Persian camp. By the time the soldiers had retired for the night, they were quite drunk.
The dawn was just breaking when Cyrus heard the war cries and lunged from his bed. He dressed hurriedly, for there was no way that he would appear in disarray. His guards would hold them off. He needed to urinate, but there was nothing that could be done about that now. His headache throbbed and he thought about his comfortable garden Quiet Room where he could sit in peace and silence.

His charger was saddled and pawing the ground when Cyrus appeared from his tent. The soldier holding the reins looked pale and panicky.

“It’s the Massagetae, Your Highness, and they have allies, their kin, the Paralatae Scythians. Our army is much larger, but they have attacked without warning,” the soldier’s voice broke as if he were a teenaged boy.

Cyrus was annoyed, but he felt a twang of sympathy for the young man, who could be among the dead when this was over. Taking the reins, he reassured him, “they are only barbarians without the slightest idea of how to conduct an attack. Let’s send them to their barbarian afterworld without delay so they can enjoy their reward!”

http://www.extasybooks.com/banner-of-fire-9/

The Wannabe Sorcerer Gets His Due--The Sorcerer Gaumata

I thought of what to do next. For example, I considered that he might want to try the fire trick and I would make fire come out of his ass. But he was out of luck. I had been curious, but now I was bored. I was also annoyed to find that Martyn was one of those bullies—the kind I despised. If you remember well, I was a victim of such a bully, but in my time, these mean-spirited boys could literally get away with murder if their target was a poor child. I was the child of a whore. Nobody in my wretched village would ever have intervened on my behalf, so I was forced to endure terrible beatings.

These memories came back in a frightening crash as Martyn glared at Tete de Lun and threatened him. Martyn shook him as if he were a bag of bones then he said, “Make him atone for his sins against me, for I am the great Sorcerer Gaumata!”

My rage was like a dark storm cloud. How dare he use my name! Yes, I would make him atone for his sins against me. Martyn grinned like an empty skull, but only for a moment. He reached and pulled his own hair again and again until there was a bald spot like the sort a much older man would have. Then he began to tear at his clothing, feeling as if fire ants were crawling over him, their leader periodically sending out the order to bite. When they bit in unison, the formic acid felt like a torch upon his skin and he slapped himself again and again as more of his flesh was exposed to the gaping audience. When he was well naked, he began to caper about hysterically screaming and waving his arms over his head. He punched at his cheeks and jumping from the stage, he began to gnaw on the shiny bar until his teeth began to fall out. 

I could no longer bear the pain, having to share it with him as I was in his body. I left him and hovered over his body, unseen before rushing back to my own. I felt light now, as I always do when I have done something evil. Somehow, although I am not drawn to morality at all, I thought I had taught Martyn some valuable lessons. One was that you should never try to dabble in evil when you have no idea of what you may encounter. The second was that being a bully is bad. The third and most important was to never cross the Sorcerer Gaumata. 

He Makes Water--The Sorcerer Gaumata

His train of thought was broken by a slight guffaw. It came from a slight young man, who wore thick glasses and appeared to be alone. Martin glared at him and said, “You dare to laugh? You shouldn’t even be here. You are a mere human among us immortals.”

I saw what he hid in his mind. The young man who laughed had been the object of Martyn’s ridicule for as long as they had been in school together. Martyn hated him because he was awkward and perhaps plain looking. Before his fascination with the occult, Martyn had been what he called a “jock.” He ran with a crowd of likeminded rascals who preyed upon boys like the one he called “Tete de Lun,” because of his severe acne. Those boys ridiculed Tete de Lun because of his interest in esoteric lore. Somehow Martyn became likewise obsessed, but he never showed this side of himself to his jock friends, and he still made fun of Tete de Lun.

Now he was furious that the object of his ridicule was laughing at him and his secret hobby. Now in college, Martyn still maintained the facade of being a jock, even joining a fraternity, while Tete de Lun, also attending the large college was still an outcaste. If you know me, my dear readers, you know that as a child, I was subjected to torture by bullies like Martyn. This turn of events enlivened me.

Now Martyn called out in a loud voice, “Come, oh Tete de Lun. Come and join me in a duel. Since you have dared to laugh, we will see who is the better sorcerer.”

The boy stammered something then turned to leave. Martyn pointed, “Make him come up here. He has laughed. Now see my power!”

Some of the men, who were dressed as monsters of some sort or another, pushed Tete de Lun forward. He ascended the stage with knocking knees, for he was still quite afraid of Martyn.

“Now kind audience,” Martyn intoned, “we shall begin with the simplest of sorcery. Here, you,” he pointed to a woman wearing vampire teeth. Please give me your empty glass.” She passed up a clear glass beer mug stained around the lips with her tawdry red lipstick. He handed the glass to Tete de Lun, who took it with trembling hands. His face had gone pale.

“Now make water! Make water from nothing!” he ordered.
Tete do Lun giggled nervously. “I could in the lab. I am a chemistry major…” Everyone in the room began to laugh, and a few tossed beer and nuts at him. 

“As expected,” Martyn said, taking the glass into his own hands. “Now see the wonder of my power!” Some people laughed, but all watched. “Make water!” he called out.

I was ready. I forced the contents of his bladder out and a puddle began to form around his feet. Martyn looked down at the mess, unable to believe what had happened. This drew the crowd’s attention, and they roared with laughter.

At this, the proprietor, furious at this indignity, ran to the stage. “Get down from there, you ass!”
Martyn almost shrieked. “No, wait! I will show you! Give me a chance!”

The man stepped back only because the audience was screaming for more.
Inside of Martyn’s mind, I saw what he was thinking. He realized that he had used an expression he thought I had misunderstood. He would be more careful. As Tete de Lun tried to run off the stage, Martyn held him by the elbow and shook him. Under his breath he muttered, “Stay put, insect. I’m going to destroy you for what you did.”

http://www.devinedestinies.com/the-sorcerer-and-the-shaman/

The Demon of Death--From the Journal of the Sorcerer Gaumata

Now I wanted Rustem to see his handiwork. The way he had killed his wife and daughter, for I heard nothing coming from the bleeding hut now. They had to be dead. The boy Mihr finally got up and ran to the nearby village for help. He returned with two village women, for women were the only ones who could approach the bleeding hut. They soon left, but I saw that the boy sprawled on his behind weeping. They had to be dead.
Soon a small crowd appeared, headed by two men joined to each other by a cotton rope. Two black and brown dogs, the ones they called “four-eyed dogs” were likewise joined. They were the corpse handlers and their sacred dogs. The dogs were believed to be able to sniff out the Corpse Demon and force it to leave the body. If they did not do this, the demon would enter a living body, usually through the mouth or anus. 
I watched as they broke down the door of the hut and removed a body. It was the body of the Sorceress Anahita. They did not go back in. A chill passed through me. The girl must have escaped. It should not have concerned me, for the mother was the real danger, but somehow I was frightened. Something was surely amiss. 
Suddenly, I felt Rustem’s mind snap. He no longer needed me to harass him. The sight of his dead wife caused him to give in to his insanity fully. He approached the crowd and began to shake hands with people, commenting genially on the fine weather. He acted as if they were gathered for a party at his home. People whispered, “He is mad. Yes, he is a madman. Avoid looking at his eyes.” Others said, “Perhaps the Corpse Demon has already infected him.”
I laughed heartily, but my fun with Rustem was over for the most part. I stayed with him as he wandered to the stream and took up the stick he used for killing xrafstars. I produced a vision of crabs with red bodies. Their shells were spiked with sharp, thorn-like protrusions that exuded poison. I added scorpion-like tails that moved menacingly over their backs. At first, I produced a few. He stuck at them in a frenzy as their guts splashed onto his face and arms. More and more of them erupted from the stream until an army of clattering claws filled the air. Rustem struck madly until, stepping on a large crab that burst open producing copious slime, he slipped. His head hit a large river rock and he died. As his soul left his body, I struggled to escape.
I found myself in my own body. The pain was excruciating. My body was stiff from having been curled up in the hollow of the tree. Insects had feasted on it, and mice had chewed my exposed nails, despite the protective spells I used. I screamed long and hard as my own agony tore through me. I had also felt the sharp pain when Rustem’s head had struck the stone, and I had bitten my own tongue in the agony. Still, I had succeeded. I had not only punished my enemy, but I had also honed my skill of possession. Now I knew where I wanted to go next. I would find that Cyrus the Great and teach him that he was not so great after all.

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

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/

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.

Curse of Two-Spirit

http://www.extasybooks.com/curse-of-two-spirit/

 The body is weak, but the spirit is strong. Two spirits are twice as strong.

     

    Ray Mankiller is a Two-Spirit Native American. Two-Spirits are people whose bodies contain not just one soul, but two, usually a male and a female spirit. He has known this since he was a child, but it is only recently that the dreams have begun. In these dreams he sees the ancient past. He sees a Two-Spirit like him, but unlike his modern world, the ancient world was dangerous for a Two-Spirit who was also born of a witch. In this tortured world, Deer Tracks, the Two-Spirit of his visions, has visions of her own. She sees the death of the one she loves at the hands of a hated shaman, Lazy Duck. She knows he will stop at nothing to possess her, even though in body, she is a male. It is said that a Two-Spirit brings great power to the one he or she marries.

    The visions are not enough to distract Ray from the problems he is facing in his own life. A newly hired professor of Ceramics at the University of Mississippi, he soon finds that one of the faculty members hates him and wants to destroy his chances of ever becoming tenured. He seeks shelter in the strong arms of Angus Tanner, a professor of Anthropology who is fascinated with Ray’s story…and with his body. When the tendrils of the past start to snake their way into the present in the form of a cursed figurine, Ray is faced with the most terrifying visions—only they are of the present, not the past. He must find a way to destroy the evil ghost of Lazy Duck before history repeats itself. Is he dragging Angus into a trap he himself set in another 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.

Tony Manichino--Vampire Detective

http://www.extasybooks.com/the-sicilian-undead/

Tony Manichino—Vampire Detective

Tony was born in Italy in the early 1920s, the son of a farming family in Sicily. The family wasn’t rich in money, but it was land rich. The family cows produced enough milk to make cheese to sustain the family and to sell. Their orchards produced a bounty of olives, their most important crop, but fruit trees also added to their wealth.

This bucolic life ended when Mafia thugs forced the family to sign over their land. Tony’s parents fled to New York City where they began to make a meager living selling fruit from a stand. The quaint farmhouse was replaced by a rat and roach infested apartment. The fields with their trees lolling with heavy fruit were replaced by the mean streets, teeming with desperate fugitives from all over the world.

This is the world Tony grows up in. It is a world that makes him angry and bitter. 

When Tony’s father follows his mother and little brother in death, Tony decides to end his miserable life. 

Seething with anger and hatred, he attracts the attention of a vampire. This vampire, Eliade, enjoys the blood of the truly grief stricken. Caught in the embrace of death, Tony fights back, summoning all the anger and hatred he has been bottling up and bites back. Thus is born a powerful vampire demon who decides to take back what is his. 

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.

Banner of Fire

http://www.extasybooks.com/banner-of-fire-9/

Then the Evil Spirit whittled forth as our antagonists evil sorcerers. The Avesta.

    Zohak, the evil brother of the Firestarter Atar, has made the ultimate pact with the demons. He learns that the power the dragon-snakes have given him does not come without a cost. He is horrified to find that they require human brains for food.

    Atar is faced with the final test. The winner gains the throne of the Persian Empire. Meanwhile, the kingdom is wracked with disturbances. The drought has caused famine. Zohak institutes a monstrous tithe, and Kava the blacksmith loses his family.

    The Army of the People rises under Atar and Kava, but they are faced with an Imperial army now composed of full and part blooded demons, sorcerers, and wizards. Their only hope is the power contained in the body of Atar the Firestarter, but he must first find a way to activate it.

Excerpt:

 The drip, drip, drip of water cut through the air. Each drip reverberated in his head. Zohak opened his eyes slowly. At least the clanging hadn’t started. His limbs were heavy. He tried to speak, but only a low moan escaped his lips. He thrashed his head and moaned louder. He saw the figure in the doorway. It was dark, but rays of light made a fiery backdrop. He moaned again and tried in vain to move. The figure casually set a huge mace down and pulled a wicked-looking knife out of its sheath. Zohak recognized it as the knife belonging to his foster father, Melik of the Stout Ribs. He had given it to Zohak just before he was murdered.

    The man’s face was visible now. It was Atar the Idiot, his half-brother, and the real heir to the throne. Zohak wanted to plead with him. Atar’s face was impassive. All of its anger was gone. He pulled off the covers to reveal Zohak’s naked body and then, as if working with a deer carcass, he began to flay Zohak. Unable to scream, Zohak moaned in torment and terror.

    Instead of the torment ending in death, he was roughly dragged out of his bloody bed and it was then that the clanging began. The dragon snakes were already writhing in agony with their master, but now their frantic movements maddened him.

    Clang, clang, clang!

    Another figure appeared at the door. He was a huge man—yes, it was the blacksmith Kava. He was carrying iron chains. He took these and wrapped them around Zohak’s burning body and they made his flesh sizzle like roasting meat. Zohak was overwhelmed with the horrifying odor of his own burning flesh. The blacksmith eyed Zohak for a moment then reached back to something he’d set on the floor. He put an ox yoke on Zohak’s neck.

    Zohak could see the agony in the man’s mind. He saw the blacksmith’s daughter, the one his dragon snakes had eaten. His skinless body burned at the memory. He could see and feel the agony of every person he’d fed to his snakes. In response, the snakes vomited a vile-smelling substance that tortured him as it spilled over his exposed flesh.

    The men were making him walk. They moved on and on until they reached a mountain that looked horribly black. They led him into a cave deep in the mountain. The blacksmith held a hammer in one hand and a long iron spike in the other. He was unable to move as the man hammered the spikes into his body, pinning him into the rock. Zohak realized that the man was being careful not to harm his vital organs.

    The two men left him in the darkness and suddenly Zohak found his voice.

     

    Zohak’s screaming brought the guards, his viziers, and even his wife, Jahi the Lovely. “Bring the astrologers and magicians,” he croaked.

     

    His hair was in disarray and he hadn’t changed his bedclothes. Urine soaked the front and back of his robe, but Zohak didn’t care.

    “So what does this dream mean?”

    “We cannot be certain…”

    “It can mean several things. Perhaps not all bad,” another astrologer said.

    “Guards!” Zohak roared. “Prepare to have these men all flayed alive. They are hiding the truth for fear.”

    An old astrologer, the chief, stood. “I will tell you. The reason we hesitate is that there is no good news. The dream means this: Everyman is born not for his parents, but as a tithe for death. No person—not even the highest king, can escape death. It means too, that your evil deeds have earned you a terrible reward. The man they call the ‘Firestarter’ will come back and he will destroy you. The blacksmith of your dream represents the many people you have killed to satisfy the greed of your snakes. Because of that greed, people have risen against you. You cannot escape your destiny, which is endless suffering as an eternal captive in Mount Damavand. The iron with which they bound you represents good over evil. The blacksmith works with iron. Iron represents forces that work against demons. It means, in short, that you are now not a man, but a demon. For you, death would be a blessing.”

     

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/

Sorcerer and the Shaman

http://www.devinedestinies.com/the-sorcerer-and-the-shaman/

The Sorcerer Gaumata has lost the Throne of Persia to the true king, Darius. He has also lost his own body, but it is still going well. He has managed to possess Mihr, son of the powerful sorcerers Rustem and Anahita. He should have known they would retaliate. Not only have they now forced him to give up his beautiful, new vessel, but they also forced him into the vile body of a fly. As if this were not insult enough, Gaumata learns that they have managed to save their unborn baby, Antiochus.

    Gaumata has sunken so low that he knows that the only way is up. Years have passed and Gaumata has been able to safely inhabit the body of a weaker, minor dragon. He plots his revenge. He must kill Antiochus, but he can’t do it alone. With the assistance of two trusted men, Gnel the Evil and Papyan the Sinner, Gaumata is now on the brink of success. How was he to know that the killing of Antiochus would produce a horror even worse than he anticipated? How was he to know that his evil acts would give birth to two powerful werewolves bent on his destruction?

Pride of the Beast

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

 Fleeing a charge of murdering his master, Artavan, the orphan slave boy, joins his noble friend Tork, on a mission beyond the village—where it is rumored that demons and monsters roam. They soon encounter two sinister strangers who may have a link to Artavan’s unknown past. The Sorcerer Angraminyu, a powerful mage bent on killing one of the strangers, Prince Devdata, will not allow Artavan and Tork to part ways with them, not that Artavan wants to. Although he once thought that Tork was his only comfort, now he begins to see something concealed in his shifty eyes. Does Tork know something about him, which he wishes to hide? Who really is his friend? When he finds himself in the strong arms of Prince Devdata, Artavan’s heart disobeys his mind, even though grief will surely be the result.

Fire Demon: New Book by KB Forrest

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

Korin feared a real fight. She’d had so little training, but her inner demon took over before she could be killed. Now she is terribly scarred, inside and outside. But now she is also a feared general and the head of the rebels. Zohak has fallen prey to madness, having accepted the forbidden fruit of power. He is a slave to the same devil who entrapped Vorak, only he is also possessed by the demon snake-dragon Kaliya. He now feeds on terror—literally. Only Korin can stop Zohak’s reign of terror, but he calls upon Vorak to lead his armies. When confronted with such a challenge, Korin fights with Vorak, who spirits her away. He simply cannot resist her. The unexpected awaits them both as they manage to form a plan to vanquish the Devil Eblise and win freedom for themselves and for the kingdom. Can they join forces to defeat the arch devil Eblise, or will he devour them along with their powers?

Excerpt:

The group of seven wizards had locked hands, making them too powerful for the magi to defeat. They glowed with a greenish iridescent light as they enveloped themselves in a mist that made them invisible to human eyes. They walked forward toward the woman who could feel their approach. She began to scream.

The wizards on both ends of the hand-holding line held sacrificial daggers. This must have been part of their plan—the plan B, if the head sorcerer somehow lost his head. If they succeeded, Eblis would be restored to his power completely. Korin ordered her mount to descend, but she was quite far from them. Now Korin saw with a jolt of horror that in the confusion of the battle, Eblis himself had escaped. He shimmered briefly through his cloak of invisibility. Korin shuddered involuntarily when she saw his true form. 

He was shucking himself out of the boy body, and as he did, his head elongated into an angular mask of rage. His skin was old—as ancient as parchment, but it glistened with putrefaction that would have left a corpse that long dead. His ears were mostly cartilage, and they were very long. Pointed at the top, the devil’s ears were pendulant on the bottom. He wore earrings made of human bones. The ear holes writhed with what looked like maggots, but as she looked closer, Korin realized that they were festering, squirming naked humans covered with the slimy effusion of death.

His eyes were black hellholes from which fires spiraled. Occasionally the burning arms or legs of some damned person could be seen thrashing about in hopeless pain. Bags of flesh hanged from his eyes, making him look even more ancient and evil. His long, pointed nose was warted heavily and appeared like a pendulous, rotting gourd. The mouth of the beast was the most horrific. Thin, cracking lips surrounded sharp, but decayed teeth swarming with creatures ranging from naked humans to insectoid creatures who fed on the humans, while the humans fed on the cheesy decay between the teeth. 

Eblis walked awkwardly in a cross between the knuckle walk of an ape, and the dragging of a disemboweled monster. Indeed, his gut bobbed over the ground as his obscene genitals trailed a slimy track as he walked. His distended anus stuck out of the flat buttocks that hung loosely. Worms and maggots dropped from it as he made his way to the woman who struggled and screamed anew, although mercifully, she could not see Eblis’ real form.

Vorak thundered from his position in the army. “No! Korin, stop! Don’t approach that devil!”

The Sorcerer Gaumata-King of Kings

http://www.extasybooks.com/sorcerer-gaumata-king-of-kings/

Amid the turbulent times of the Achaemenid Dynasty, the Sorcerer Gaumata has set his sights on the highest jewel—the throne of the King of Kings. He plans to murder King Cambyses with his sorcery. Then Gaumata plans to take advantage of a complex scheme to seize the throne. Chaos and brutality grip the land as Gaumata abuses his power, but in the back of his mind a terror of his own lurks. He has crossed powerful witches and sorcerers who are now determined to bring him to his knees. The sorceress Spenta and her powerful mage brother Mihr are caught in Gaumata’s trap, but they have allies in the two witches, Indrayani and Apuyani. They have finally discovered the key to his sorcery, and they plan to use it against him to save the kingdom.

Prince Darius, the real heir to the throne, is in danger when Gaumata understands that he has seen through his disguise. Will he be the next to face his worst nightmares in the world of horror only Gaumata, the fiendish sorcerer, can construct?

Excerpt:

The sweat was dripping from Cambyses’ forehead as the suffocating dank air of the tomb pressed down on him. It seemed that the smell was so thick in the air that he could almost see it. The cloying smell of putrefaction became stronger after the inner case covering the corpse was exposed and he felt the saliva begin to collect rapidly in his mouth. He could not retch in public, no, that would not do.

He heard the noise faintly at first, but then it became louder and louder. It was a buzzing that sounded filthy, like when one disturbs flies that have been feeding and laying eggs on excrement. The atmosphere pressed down and the sound increased even as the unbearable stench was forced into his nostrils.

Cambyses began to look about the walls of the tomb, not because he was interested, but because he needed to distract himself. He saw that the intricately painted small figures were beginning to move now. It began very slowly, but he suddenly realized that they seemed to see him too, and some of them were making obscene gestures in his direction. One little man pulled up his robe and wagged his genitals at him while women stood by laughing. Some of the servants behind the little painted oxen that were pulling plows began to point and gape at him. They now seemed to be talking, their rough, guttural language grating on his ears. Somehow he could almost understand what they were saying.

Cambyses turned away from the walls, only to find that the chanting was still droning on. He shifted slightly and felt his face color as Matwa, the high priest, glanced at him. Things were getting bad. He just had to get out of this tomb—out of the festering, nauseating atmosphere of that corpse house. The buzzing was steady and strong now. It seemed to be coming from the inside of the closed inner sarcophagus. He held his hands stiffly against himself to hide the shaking, but then his left eyelid began its tremors anew.

Now the high priest was reaching for the lid of the sarcophagus. Why? Why? Cambyses looked down slightly and saw that his knuckles were white and visibly shaking. The box was opened for the last time and the King of Kings could see the linen wrappings of the mummy, who had a brightly painted mask over its face. Its arms lay crossed over its chest and they had placed the two royal scepters in them. The linen wrappings were discolored already, although they appeared to be quite dry. He blinked, hoping that he wouldn’t see it, but he saw it just as he feared.

The buzzing sound had increased dramatically when the lid was raised and he saw it. Struggling to free itself from the wrappings that bound the body, a large creature began to emerge. It was wet, as if it had been born from the hideous, festering, rotting body. It stroked its front feet together as it looked about. Its many faceted eyes seemed to take in the scene as the almost transparent wings stretched out, slimy tendrils breaking off and making quivering puddles under them. The smell of the creature was one of festering liquid putrefaction. It was coming out of the crotch area of the dead man, just as it had been said in the words of the Holy Avesta.

Cambyses was paralyzed. The many knobby knees of the creature stretched tentatively and he could see the flat buttocks and flabby abdomen that swung slightly as it rose. It was now looking at him. When the faceted eyes settled on him, his paralysis was lifted. He took up his sword to defend himself. The creature began to buzz savagely as if it could divine his intensions. Cambyses ran at it with his sword poised to strike. Expertly he slashed at the thing, but it was as fast as lightening. It flew at his face and he smashed it with the blunt end of his sword. It rolled on the floor as if it had been hurt seriously, but then recovered and tried to attack him from behind.

Cambyses was in a frenzied fight for his life, but not one of the other people in the tomb seemed willing to come forward. Again and again the creature attacked. It seemed to be trying to burrow under his clothes—yes, as the legends said, the Demon of Death, if not contained by the sight of a dog, would try to enter the body of the nearest person by burrowing into his ****. The vile feel of it was enough to make his fight desperate, but the thought of it entering his body! He managed to strike it directly in its abhorrent face. Its feelers were bent now and a loathsome liquid dripped from the sharp teeth that were exposed.

Suddenly, the head priest Matwa leapt up to the dead Pharaoh and threw his arms around the body protectively. The creature seemed now to turn his attention to the priest, who appeared to be sobbing and frantically clutching at the frayed spot where the thing had made its way out of the mummy wrappings. It buzzed excitedly and flung itself at Matwa’s back. The man writhed in frenzied terror as the thing began to burrow and the man’s lower garment dropped to the floor as the creature tore at it. Matwa’s scream was unlike that of a man. It sounded like that of a goat whose life is being tortured out of it. Again and again the hysterical shrieks reverberated in the stone pyramid tomb. The thing deftly pulled Matwa’s tightened buttocks apart and then began to burrow nose first into the man. Matwa struggled, desperately squeezing his buttocks against the repulsive thing, but it still fought its way in. Soon only a few of the hairy, repulsive feet remained and then they also slid in, leaving a slimy trail, as the buzzing finally died away.

Cambyses panted in his terror and looked at the people who stood there gaping in horror. Matwa lay dead and the mummy was torn to shreds. Debris from the struggle littered the floor of the tomb and several canopic jars lay smashed, their fetid contents smeared where a foot had slid in the decaying matter. Matwa lay near the mummy, his torn clothing bloody. One of his legs twitched and then relaxed again. The bones under the mummy wrappings stuck out like white branches.

Cambyses was suddenly seized with rage. Why had they not tried to help him and the high priest? What kind of cowards were these Egyptians? He roared his orders now. They were to bring dogs in to watch for the creature and then clean up the mess. He ordered that they take special care of the body of Matwa, now the home of the Demon of Death. Cambyses felt sad for the noble high priest. He had been the only one who had tried to help, but he now lay dead.

What a terrible way to die. He shuddered as he looked around at the craven Egyptians who had failed to help him to fight against the Demon of Death. He was exhausted and heartsick. What was he thinking venturing into this evil place without the magi? They would never have let this terrible thing happen. They would have insisted on having dogs present. They would have known the proper spells to ward it off! Cambyses felt the tremors in his body subside somewhat. Now he would have to undergo a lengthy purification process.

Sorcerer in Egypt--New Book by KB Forrest

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

Fear yourself, for your deepest fears are his most deadly weapons.

    
    Cyrus the Great, King of Kings, is dead. Like the Sorcerers Rustem and Anahita, he has been humiliated and killed by the powerful sorcerer Gaumata. The perverse sorcerer is not satisfied with his victory. He has his black heart set on the throne of the King of Kings. It doesn’t matter who he has to kill to get his wish. Mihr and Spenta, son and daughter of the sorcerers Rustem and Anahita, begin to exhibit signs of unusual power. They become the threat Gaumata must now fear.
    Spenta makes moves to protect her brother, but she also finds the love she has longed for in the adoring and passionate Emperor Cambyses, a tortured soul who worships her. Spenta faces danger, passion, and epic historical battles with competence, bravery, and cunning. The Sorcerer Gaumata’s machinations yield fear, insanity, and horror for Cambyses.
    Delving into other people’s most private fears may come at a price. Will his forays into the minds of his victims leave Gaumata unscarred?