The Repulsion of Merced
(Forward) Only in ancient manuscripts can the word Cthulhu be found, meaning ‘horror of the horrors.’ A horror that numbs you, one that defies even God and His mercy; the decipherment of the word can entangle both the pawn and the prey, it reduces human existence to a weak and stale plight. Thus, in this following story, one that is based on fact (and considered by the author as historical fiction, since he has added his own descriptiveness to the account, and his own adjectives, that in which he feels belong to the story), that took place in November, of 2008; we will see a jealous mindless monster in motion, and the pawn will be devoured (names have been changed).
(Andahuaylas)
I will tell you of Naomi, She left Andahuaylas, Peru, in the Andes crossing into the Mantaro Valley and Huancayo, on the 3rd of November, 2008, on her way to La Merced. You have heard such stories of horror in bits and pieces, I am sure, as you are about to hear now, where demonic things crawl in the night to do hideous works for hell, but man and woman have their own hell, besides hell chasing them with hell’s demons, but here is man’s own evil substance at work, no need for Satan to interfere, of what truth is or isn’t, for it will not matter, especially when lost—and in this story it gets lost, it passes by, dwells in limbo, forgotten, as jealousy takes over, this was Naomi’s fate, and peril.
As she reached her destination (having taken a bus), in the local called La Merced, in the central jungle of Peru, near Satipo, she went to live with her half sister and brother in law.
She stood at the door knocked, as a man slowly opened the door, and with long parade glimpses stared at her, eyeing her up from heel to the top of her head. She stood back, shadow-like against the sky. “I am Naomi,” she said, thinking maybe Laura’s husband, Cesar had forgotten what she looked like (they had not seen one another in a number of years, and she had come down to the rain forest area to work the fields).
He then asked her in, as glittering visions and the pageantry of glory filled his inners. In his mind, it was not of the drab day to day life he had expected life would be in the now near future, that was going to end, and a gleaming one set into motion, in the next few weeks, he had new intentions.
After the greetings were said and done, and Naomi got her private room, Laura noticed at the dinner table the first night, her husband had faint like glimpses toward her half sister (half sister meaning, both Laura, the elder and Naomi, had the same mother, although different fathers); as I was about to say, these glimpses were not unnoticed.
And so during the following week, Laura put on an invisible mask, to hide her jealousy, not that her sister was feeding into her husband’s scheme, but jealous manifestations of that illusion entangled her imagination to think so (but fundamentally it was not true).
It was during the second week, towards the end of it, that Laura could not bridge the gulf of evil she had created towards Naomi, awful blackness numbed her heart, unstable mind, and her spirit, soul and ego, all spinning, shaking her every bone, behind the shape of her fleshly body, to once and for all settle this account with the black winged creature who came to subdue her husband—Naomi.
She, Laura, was lovingly foolish, insecure with fear of losing her husband, burning like lit firewood in a heath throughout her being, pulling at her hair when alone in a private room, until the roots gave in, and dropped out. It would have seemed she was not a product of today’s ultimate civilization, soon to have a dim and un-guessed future.
Oh, far, far and far off was her mind this night, when she woke up in the wee hours, took a slug hammer, red-eyed, with a slayers heart, drifting she crept into Naomi’s room, in causal reality, she bent over, the bed, lurked with her distorted mind onto the face of her sister, and here is where the story unfolds: she produced in her cerebellum a pointless chaos, horrifically primordial and beast-haunted, recognized the mark she was going to strike, and like a great wind, she struck her younger sister in the head, forehead, temple, nose, she struck several times, bone breaking blows, and sent her into a dark form of existence.
The following day she died, driven only by some restless whim, to show her she did not die instantly, against all cosmic laws, she left this world, not like a crushed worm, but rather, spawning for new life.
Written 11-16-2008, after reading a report in the Correo Newspaper, Huancayo, Peru, the author was inspired to write in part, of its actual events… considered historical fiction—of the account, and murder of ?
Dr. Dennis L. Siluk’s has published 72-International Book. He is a poet since twelve years old, a writer, Psychologist, Ordained Minister, Decorated Veteran from the Vietnam War, Doctor in Arts and Education, and Doctor Honoris Causa from the National University of Central Peru, UNCP. He was nominated Poet Laureate in Peru. One of his books, “The Galilean”, took Honorable Mention at the 2016 Paris Book Festival and received an award from the Congress of Peru, for his cultural writings.
