A Staccato Cry [Sheol, Hell's Dominion]

There were rough days in hell, quiet days, strange days, days to articulate finalities.

3 Remembering Genevieve

The king, King Phrygian—had heaps of time to ponder over his life, his convictions, what went wrong, if at all anything went wrong—and if even the decay he found himself in was worth thinking about. He remembered one of the dreams he had during his 1000-years sailing around aimlessly in the river-gulf of Hades. He remembered looking at Ais, his queen, how beautiful she was, and now wondering what she was doing, but back then he'd look at her and oddly enough his mind would shift to Genevieve, his heart would give muddle acoustics or so it seemed—he'd try to refrain from such thoughts sitting in that boat, but nonetheless he'd day-dream back then. She was his finest lover, a wild kind of love. Everyone had a lover on the side he thought, it was common, normal, he never thought when he gave love-sex to Genevieve that it was taking away from Ais' relationship with him; that he could only give her 50% of himself, because he was giving Genevieve the other 50%, and a man only has 100%; and when you slice the pie up per day: you have duties and sleeping to do, there is only 50% to give any one person, so in truth, the two women were really getting 25% of him each, while he was getting 100% of them (isn't that a mans for you though).

In-between his love affairs, especially this one, he had people coming from all over the world to meet him, give him gifts, and getting their needs met in the mean time.

He gave Genevieve a diamond bracelet, and of course much more; Genevieve thought all men were fools and took all she could. Said the King in distain:

"She was like me, she used me and loved the Egyptian, the red haired beauty, with the icy eyes and hot breath, and she loved him and only him, not me. She even told me: "…don't you think by now, by this time I know that I can get any man I want to?”' The king didn't know what to say to that at the time.

"She'd sit on the balcony over looking the city of Atlantis and she repeat how beautiful I thought she was how beautiful I'd tell her she was. We'd sit there on the veranda with the lantern hung at night; she said everything with vagueness and hazy laughter—Genevieve, with her long hard legs, she said it out loud and hoarsely as I sat in and watch her.”

4 Genevieve's Arrogance

[Phrygian] I hated her arrogance; it was much like mine now that I have time to think of it. She had put her chin in the air like a Greek statue to me, far off in those days; then she'd say, 'I'll spoil the pose,' and she would do so, just to annoy me. Dripping lemon in her glass of water, yes, yes, she was secretly in love with that Egyptian, that barbarian general, in love with a scum devious Egyptian, I should have killed them both. And she liked the one from Delphi, Otis, the envoy. She'd sleep with him when I was sleeping, and Ais was in Ephesus; but she'd go back to the Egyptian, I know, I had her followed, all the way to Memphis.

She was a poor conversationalist for sure, she was at that; I even figured her out; gave her the freedom of the Acropolis and the envoy, and the general. The general thought he was cleaver, would tell my wife, blackmail me, subdue her on the settee all for them arduous legs.

But it wasn't that easy was it…no, it wasn't. She, Ais was not making love to him, but I let him think he could, I looked the other way, and when I seen them in the room together, I had Eco, her body guard slice him in two, right through the mid section, his body laying down half here and half there. And Eco did the same to Genevieve in her sleep, cut her head off for me. I told Ais she was trying to blackmail me.

I thought about Genevieve while in the boat, and now I think of her also while palms rest on my knees sitting on this rock shaking my head not wanting to go back mentally to the vessel, the one I sailed around, sailed in for a thousand years. It has been an ongoing feast, conglomeration of love's and lovers; I forgot how fast time passes when I was alive that is. Genevieve was more the lover, not like my first love Lailis. Some you forget, some you want to forget and some you can't forget. Lailis is one I can't forget, and Genevieve is one I want to forget, and Ais, as jealous as I am, I'm starting to forget her, but not Aon.

*

A staccato cry, came from his nostrils, mouth, throat stomach, cries of anguish and chatter of his teeth, he was alone, all alone.

5 Hell Floats

The nights die slowly in hell, for there is no real sky; if anything a pale sky of a roof type gloomy mist, as if a big eye was looking down on you all the time. From the gulf, faded dimly faded mist from the waters, as if it was being scorched sometimes from the molten rocks underneath it, the magna heats everything; and like in Pompeii, ash seems to fly about in bulky form when the earth trembles from its volcanic material activities, yes it has its toil, or better, its racking shackles on Hell, believe it or not. I want to say: over the horizon, but here there wasn't isn't a horizon, just a line it seems like when in the ocean you see all the blue, then only a guiding line from left to right. But here you got the lightening, the flashes, the volcanic activity, everywhere are waves from deeper parts of hell I do believe, Hell floats.

As Phrygian noticed later on during his incarnation in Hell, much of the land around him was red or dark, the dark parts of the crust of the earth was molten burnt land, and the red had not yet been totally burnet. Should he step too heavily on the dark part he'd fall into its molten lava—deep down, and it hurt, and the pain does not go away, right away that is, and you never die from it, just endure the pain.

The inner earth also annoyed the king; it was no comparison to earth's beauty, to Atlantis' grandness. Around him were smells of twenty-five thousand years of decay, if not longer; bringing with it the infinite cries from a few billion souls, all chattering their teeth.

6

It was, was that fatal night the king was thinking about before, when he killed the General and Genevieve, he forgot, he may have even killed Otis, how the memory slips, he told himself. Here he was, killing her all over again, in his dream-sleep mode. How many times will it surface he wondered, the stiletto, he dreamed he killed her with a stiletto, but it wasn't the truth, he had Eco kill her with a double edged sword, he just wished he would had killed her, and his nightmares—for what you take to hell, you keep—. His attitude, came to mind, surfaced, it was rather a curious jealous one, controlling for all his loves, only one that it was not, I mean different for him was of course his first love, Lailis. Yet that was past, it was now his insensitive makeup, hateful makeup, revengeful makeup. It was as if, as if it had control of him, no matter what the price was.