Monday, May 23, 2016

Worlds Beyond The Martian Underworld

Worlds Beyond

The Martian Underworld
(The Great Tsunamis of Mars, 3.4 Billion B.C.)  Part I of II

                    Moohtluv the Liege, of Venus and Mars

In the year 3.4-Billion B.C., the Demon of Mars had to go underground after the Great Tsunami took place.  The Greatest Title wave that had ever existed or came to be known in Mars’ solar system, triggered by an asteroid or comet strike into its ocean of water, it covered 750,000-square miles, the title-wave was 400-feet high.  This wave energetic as it was, picked up sediments, to include massive boulders, and dumped them at high and low elevations, and cut new channels into the orbs surface, and caved in many of Mars’ underground channels and passages.  The areas known as Chryse Planitia and Arabia Terra, were badly hit, regions of Mars. And ever since, these new and some old passages, and dome like cavers have been home to the Mar-demon.
       Moohtluv the Liege, came sometime thereafter, a life form from Venus, the last of his kind, for all of his species had been fossilized on Venus after a great catastrophe. Created, or born, 542-million B.C., in his first stage of life he was sea-dwelling, in some superficial form, and by the process of photosynthesis, and contact with certain bacteria, he had evolutionalzed out of this algae form to a higher form of organism, converted by sunlight and chemical energy, into a complex multi-cellular organism, by the grace of his creator.  His kind, progressively grew endlessly if not killed by their own kind, from some black eldritch diabolic act, or a natural disaster.  Likewise their complex civilization became extinct by some interstellar space atrocity, not so unlike the days of the dinosaurs on earth by an asteroid hit; and like Mars, where after its atrocity, lost its thin atmosphere, and high levels of oxygen. Consequently he found his way to Mars, and became Commander and Chief of the underground Mar-Demons, in their underground labyrinth, or dominion.
       These demon were an ebon form of dark incubated evil, evil in secrecy even among themselves, and there were a million or more of them, —evil that is, until Moohtluv took command, and harnessed them like Solomon did in his day. Had you asked one, what his voice sounded like he would have said, like a Niagara thunder of water, had he ever been to Niagara Falls. And as it might be known, as in the days of the dinosaurs on earth, animals with long lifespans grow gigantic, and he Moohtluv, was all of that.  In essence, he looked like a giant satanic salamander of 3000-pounds, with three faces, and two dimensional.
       Light seemed to be provided within these underground cannels, that per near went to the liquid iron core of Mars by some form of radioactive minerals in the walls and ceilings. Moohtluv was not governed by what man knew of biological laws, but in and of a different atom and dimensional system.  Had you been looking at him, he could have his body fade, and reappear, as if he was more projection, than substance. And in fear of him they, all the demon sought to woo him. They knew if he was making a humming noise, he was tranquil, if not, god forbid. His moods were governed by his monotone, or foreseen.
       In his chamber lofty, of iron stone and rock, this monstrous being, more like a grotesque apparition, floating hanging in midair like a mechanical mirage, hovered over all that entered, but when he slept it was on the warm floor of the cavern.
       Early one, Geon, an eerie disquieted Mar-demon, knew Moohtluv was supernatural, and did his tedious job of relaying his orders to the tribal demonic beings, of which there were several hundred clans, and became Moohtluv’s number on servant. And the uncongenial work that needed to be done throughout the underground fortress, he insured it would be done.    
       To kill a ruthless being, you need to be more ruthless, Geon told his tribe of 1000-followers, and Moohtluv’s power had stirred his imagination profoundly to devise a way to destroy him.  For even though Moohtluv looked to be a mere hallucinatory image, he was not. On the other hand he had a super mundane, routine. This he figured would be his weakness.
       By and large, Moohtluv was simply an envoy from a foreign planet, and long they had sought him out, but had favored him with their invitation to make peace among one another, but that inaction after so long became boring. And now their attempt at verbal communication was always to argue, and he and the rest of the clans never once, was allowed to do evil, over dominated another clan by Moohtluv, and not allowed to menace  anyone, and that was for the Mar-demon, painful.
       All creatures sleep, and almost without emotion or thought of any kind, Geon took this edge to its deepest point, thus while Moohtluv’s breathing, while sleeping was a consonant humming of a deep sleep, not REM, he would make his play.
       Moohtluv’s floor was near the edge of the crust of Mars’ underground lava pit, where it was very hot, and much movement or transit of magma shifted to and fro, Geon and his demonic force had sank huge rods into the floor, covered them with stone, when Moohtluv had visited the upper world of Mars on several trips to see the foreign sky, and whatever else, and thus giving Geon time to move in on his plan, and this evil dead he was to do that was to fill his evil eyes with a fury of boiling blood, once accomplished. Thus, he weirdly altered the strength of the floor of Moohtluv’s room. This evening while Moohtluv slept on an inquisitively tessellated floor as he had for quite a long time, to which rods now were interlocked and sank and disappeared underneath, and into sockets that were part of the floor, which could become topless, or roofless by one jerk of an iron mechanism, and whatever was in the room would be filled with this lava, this was to be done.
       And so, he pulled the lever, and the lava came pouring up, thick and heavy into the room, blusterous liquid, and ruby-red in color, and dissolving everything within the room and sweeping it away; hence, Geon jumped with glee at this gravitation of gigantic magma, and its movement. Geon had never dreamed it would work so perfectly, and so deliriously he went screaming down the hallway, he was the king of Mar-hell.  And I cannot describe the physical discomfort of Moohtluv, but it was surly some optic torture to see: floating gradually down into and swimming in and through the lower part of Mars’ lava, like a dead shadow, and surely he found himself in the grip of a nightmare, and there was no humming.
On the other hand, to Geon, Moohtluv was no more than some gigantic insect. Moreover, even Moohtluv, with his supernatural essence was powerless to such an assault.  And now, Geon would become that luring menace of evil he was aching to be.

#5245/ 5-17 thru 20-2016

Worlds Beyond

Demon-ridden Times   
(The Great Plains of Mars, 3 Billion B.C.)  Part II of II

Geon.  A demon amongst the demon of the underworld of Mars, known as Mar-demon amongst one another, was the culprit that killed Moohtluv the Liege, and not everyone liked what he had done, for Moohtluv kept law and order, and now all there was, was chaos.  Geon was an alchemist, necromancer, astrologer, and between the death of Moohtluv, and this day on Mars, a half billion years later, he had ten arch-fiends as his students (apprentices), also he was ahead of a legion of bat-winged demon, within   the underground kingdom. 
       It was said Geon, the worse of the lot, was born on a moonless midnight, and was transported from some other planet, other than Mars, through diabolic arts, his father being in bad health, indicating an early death, had send him to Mars; his father being an enchanting, lycanthropic demon (or werewolf of sorts) of black spells, and malice.  Thus, like father, like son.
       And within one of the several regions of the kingdom of the Mars underworld, were the reluctant race of succubus and incubus’ in contradiction of Geon for his longtime prejudices in their sexual prowess, hence, in all their meetings they took liberty to scorn him.   Several called on the Demon of Doom, to judge this demon whom was more hated than earth’s antichrist. For eons he had a mesmeric persuasion over his students of a most brilliant promise, even stood by him up to this point. For the succubus’ considered them his cult, and said he worked his spells on them to keep them in his cult.
      And so was he judged this day to be vanished once and forevermore to the plains of Mars, and was made to dig his way up to its surface, twenty-five miles. He felt at times as he dug as if entombed.  As for the underworld it was really their first banishment on Mars, to a Mar-demon, but to keep peace what is one demon amongst a million or two.  They were indifferent not all that much different than the human race would be, whenever that would be.  And yes, it was to Geon’s dismay and horror he had to wander the plains of Mars of a few hundred years, until one day he tripped upon a brazen-bolted tomb, found in one of the trenches. Lo, the sun’s rays were hot, had been hot, and was drying him up like a prune. But he said to himself, as any wise demon might say, “You play, you got to pay,” and the penalty for his misdeeds were as we all know, the sun-scorched surface of Mars, forevermore; for even demons like a little comfort now and then, and the solar winds as often as they came were becoming a daily complaint for Geon—to himself, that is—and  he now he was thinking of diabolic revenge and ravishment upon his fellow demon; nothing new for demons of course, but he was not one of those mustering-ground devils, he’d prefer the cooler dungeons of Mars’ hell, its lava hot fire and brimstone and mephitic odors to what he was enduring, on the surface of Mars daily.
       And so he thought day to day, night after moonless night, of his subterranean ex-friends, then without thinking—or perhaps with too much thinking on what his revenge would be—he took the shroud from the dead corpse from the tomb he had thrown it out of: torn and ragged, but a cover to a naked demon, was very much welcomed; an evil hissing as of a dozen serpents came from the shroud.  He tried to strip the shroud off from his shoulders, but the cadaverous hissing turned quickly into a mass of serpents that folded around him like white on rice, in stone. Appalled at this vision he started his chanting of sonorous exorcism of the snakes—that did little good, that is to say, naught!  And hence he fell backwards into the very tomb he had robbed as if taking the place of the dead corpse, slain eons ago, by none other than Moohtluv the Liege.
       And there he lay, thinking the old saying, unable to move an inch, or a toe or a finger, just a blink of an eyelid: “What goes around comes around!”

#5248/ 5-22-2016

Worlds Beyond

The Martian,
 (The Great Plains of Mars, 2.75 Billion B.C.)  Part III of III

              The Worm-Mar-serpent

Whelp the Chief Dwarf, quite small for even being a dwarf, of Mars’ underworld, had a most extravagant curiosity, and this is his story, as legend tells it, in the halls of Mars’ hell, and by and large, he was the strongest of all the dwarfs; once a student of Moohtluv the Liege, and as diabolic as Geon, was one of the many dwarfs who, for fun the demonic dwarfs would play the game ‘Who can enter the noise quicker!” Entering noises, those bloody nostrils of one another to see if they could possess the other, was a game unnamed that I actually named in lack of any suitable name, but a game all the same. And thus, each dwarf, Mar-demon watched the disappearance of his fellow mate, inch by inch.
       The underworld had really little to nil, good pastimes, so they had to be really inventive, or creative. And Whelp the Dwarf, did exactly what his bully type character prescribed, he invented and if his fellow dwarf Mar-demon, didn’t like it, he’d walloped them one good wallop,  those he got frustrated with, that is.  Next to Geon, he was a menace, and ahead of the clan of demon dwarfs, of which perhaps 10,000-existed, unrobed as the day is long, nude like the incubi, he was somewhat cabalistic in that he was similar to Geon in the occult manner. And thus he took over Geon’s pupils and nurtured them in his moribund ways.  There remained an undeclared enigma for Whelp, that curiosity: “Was Geon still alive, in his entombment?”  And the commonality between he and Geon, they both hated the demonic forces beyond their own races within the underworld.
       He kept himself busy though with his arcane science and deep wizardry, his so called incubated evil. But still as for Geon, he could not shake off his disquietude. So he found himself above on the surface of Mars, one dreary day in the year 2.7 Billion B.C., (thereabouts; take or give a million or two).
       And so now he searched for the tomb of Geon.
       It should be pointed out, on Mars there are more brown twilights than those like normal earth sunsets and moonrises, twilights per se. He for his first time seen the grim and rugged landmass of Mars— “Hurray!” he said, as he took his first steps onto its surface. From where he stood, apart from the solar winds, there was no sign of occupation, as expected. Cautiously he peered over what was called: “The Somber Broad Valley” where Geon was supposed have been entombed. Whereupon he made his way down the sheer, and rough cliffs then once below he paused to recuperate his abating strength.  He heard some baffling, and confused noises. Apart from the remote ambiguous noises and tapings, the day was locked in mortal stillness. Even the solar winds in the valley had stopped, it was as if he was trespassing, and the dead knew it and the planet was accommodating the dead; it was as if he was in a cloud of paralyzing evil, and it was slowly starting to hang over his head, unobserved.  The silence was eerie, as if older than time.
       It was well known in the underworld, once there lived a subhuman civilization on Planet Mars, and they had all perished in the valley he was now in, some say by a volcanic eruption, so it was in a way, forbidden ground, a graveyard of sorts. And now, Whelp the Dwarf heard the tapings louder and louder, with a more audible voice in the background, a muffled voice. Then he spotted Geon’s tomb, it was his voice he heard. Now within sight, but at a distance, he saw his dark sooty fingers that hung out of the tomb, keeping himself well beyond the tomb’s shadow, he walked made a sort of circuit around the tomb, he did not dare to step into its shadow for fear of being dragged into the tomb with Geon. Although as far as he could tell he and the tomb’s occupant were the only ones about, no serpents or sub humans. Leaning against a fragment of a worn stone, he paused to concentrate on a clattering below his feet, crouching he put more weight on the surface, in one specific spot, and more weight on the worn stone he was leaning on, again it was his curiosity at work: the narrow ledge he was leaning on broke and its stone, and to his most astonishing dismay, the floor of the surface   caved in, and there was a thousand wormlike snakes ten feet long, with big round heads and vampire teeth, and they were hungry, very hungry, whose details are barely speakable. But one thing I can say for sure, the old saying is true to its every letter: “Curiosity killed the cat,” and in this case also the dwarf!”
#5249/ 5-23-2016