Attropolis XXXV

The sun slowly rising to its rightful place in the sky, bringing warmth to a forest littered with blood, corpses and body parts scattered around. As light protrudes through the leafs, there he stands, bloody knife in hand, bloody knuckles, smile on his face, scars on his arms and back and happiness in his eyes. Hippos couldn’t believe the thrill that had waited for him in this journey north. The elderly, most of them dead or dying, as they tried to protect the children. Others disfigured or had lost a limb in the battle with the creatures of mother nature. Children torn piece by piece, spread across the ground like a morbid painting of a madman and his perfect little fantasy, laughing at this tragedy.

Adpetentia on her knees, crying, broken, exhausted with the husk of a body that was left of her mother in her hands. She gave her life to shield her daughter from the perils and Adpetentia can’t help but feel that the fault befalls on her and her inability to protect herself. With all the training, with all the strength she thought she had to be relied on by those around her, she had failed, miserably. Her mother had to sacrifice herself in order for her to live, and this weight felt crushing to her heart. Hippos turns towards her, noticing the carnage he runs to her. Embracing her, holding her tight in his arms, like she did when his parents died. He too felt at fault, he let the adrenaline rush take over his body, fighting, killing, but forgetting to protect what’s dear to the love of his life. Together in arms, they started crying…

The people slowly struggled to get back on their feet. The noise of the mess that was left behind the carnage was a hard thing to try to make sense out of. Grandparents, dead or dying, as they tried to shield as many children as possible, giving themselves up to the beasts. Children torn limb from limb, spread across the ground like the painting of a madman, laughing at the tragedy that just took place. Guts, tears and blood all around. They started debating whether they should bury the corpses of their loved ones or leave everything as it is. The had to move before the attracted more danger their way. Hungry, tormented and broken they came to the conclusion that they should leave everything as is, since it might deter others to follow in their footsteps.

They slowly started moving again, now Adpetentia had to leave her mother behind, just like all those that just lost a grandparent, parent, aunt or uncle in this vicious battle with mother nature. They stopped at the edge of the forest to eat, drink and try to recharge. The light and warmth of the sun was upon them, but it was all just a juxtaposition to what had happened.

And in Creetus…

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The Quill

No, this isn’t a new short story for the Pilot Program, this is a weekly podcast surrounding the life story of my grandfather, Jon. Born before the start of World War 2, having to have his childhood traumatized by it and the horrors of war, trying to survive through the toughest of conditions. This, is the beginning of the story for The Quill Podcast. This first season takes a first good look at a war torn Transylvania that was given to the Hungarians by Nazi Germany and Italy, which meant carnage and tragedy for the Romanians in the Region. But, that doesn’t mean that Romanians weren’t persecuting Hungarians in their territories. It was war, nonetheless.

Jon is trying to figure out who is on his side and who is trying to harm him and his family. As a child he has to adapt, to fend for himself, whether it was food, clean water, fruits, vegetables or bread. He had to learn to tend to a whole household, animals and fields, and find a way to survive his childhood on the fields near one of the biggest cities in Transylvania. Six sisters and brother, one mother alone on her own, living the best life in the nightmare of the war in a territory filled with tragedy and tensions between the nationalities living there. Trying to survive, trying to live another die, with the hope that they just might hold out and see the end of the war.

The podcast takes place over six precise seasons. Everything is based on the stories I have heard over the years from my grandfather when he lived and facts found through history books and through research online. Each season is going to be 12 episodes, with a break for a few weeks between each episode. The Quill podcast is LIVE every Thursday on https://www.twitch.tv/authorraulfo if you want to witness the story live. Even though the podcast is based in real stories and facts, most of it is improvised on the spot, so the narrative story might take sudden unexpected turns. The podcast is both in audio and video format, there are actual historical videos attached to this podcast that showcases the events of the years portrayed, something extra after you’ve listened to it.

You can find The Quill Podcast in video form archived on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/c/RaulFO

If you want to listen to it, you can find it here: The Quill Podcast on Raul F. O. or anywhere else you can listen to podcasts to. Including: Spotify, Google podcasts, Apple Podcasts, Himalaya, Radio Public, Breaker and many more to come.

Hope you enjoy the story, because I certainly do love exploring history and finding interesting stuff out together with you all.

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Attropolis XXXIV

Cold, dark, withering night was upon Cretin. The noises from the drunk soldiers drifted as time passed and they had fallen asleep. Pain, sorrow, confusing feelings coursing through Olanus thinking about Alicaria and everything she had done until now. The shock of losing her child must have struck her stronger than anyone, he thought to himself, his feelings turning into shame after he saw himself as playing victim to a now childless mother without the perpetrator caught and punished. Sad, tired and with his head slowly numbing, he fell asleep.

Bloody orange, blue and warm the sun was caressing everything in its way. People waking up, roosters roosting and singing their songs, color back into the world. Hangovers, misty eyes and blood-lust in the veins of the soldiers. The Caesar now feeling idealistic is eager to get to Creetus, wanting to defeat those opposing him so he can move onto a bigger and better future. A few more days ahead of the clash, the excitement was palpable for him, after a few years of pace, war now was afoot. Now he turned into a hero, extinguishing the rebellion of some evildoers that want to see the empire suffer. OH THE GLORY, OH THE GLORY, OH THE GLORY OF CAESAR!

Alone, calm, cleaning herself, Alicaria was if anything prepared for the worst ahead. She was heading towards a battlefield, war, death and destruction. It was what she had hoped, the excited look on her face gave her intent away to those that were ogling at her. The military camp turned into a field of elation, everyone fell into place, ready to move on and fight the good fight, crushing whatever spirit those in Creetus had. Belly full, grinning face, rations to last, the Romans were on their merry way. Cretin was the guest they needed.

Angry, devastated, crying, a woman approached Olanus. He stopped, got down from his horse and comforted her. She had told him that her son was brutally raped while she went to get some bread, by the time she got back, her precious son was no more. This infuriated Olanus. He asked for more details, she told him that some of the neighbors had seen someone dressed in what appeared to be clergy attire. He could not believe his ears, shocked, this reminded him of Juliusegos. The woman came, from a village north to Cretin, to plead with him, since she heard that the Caesar and his army were in town. Telling Olanus that she heard the man was going north east.

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Pilot Program - Falling Tower

T’s a Wednesday morning ‘ere, after the Lady Day, and I’m here to do justice. ‘Cause I ‘member it clearly the previous Sunday, ‘cause I, Walter of Ardene, an ma wife carried him to the St. Michael’s lane, ‘here we sat him down, stood all night with ‘im. These here folk need to know what Walter of Benington and his posse did. Y’all didn’t come ‘ere from three neighboring wards just for a walk. T’was them there at the alehouse of Gilbert of Morden where they’d come to drink four gallons of beer. They’d come with stones, knives, swords and other weapons, wanting to kidnap poor Emma. That girl already lost ‘er father Robert Pourte and Gilbert took her under his protection. But now these folk wanted to kidnap and rape ‘er? From what my wife Christina told me after, Mabel, his wife and Geoffrey, his brewer had asked them to leave. And they told ‘em that’d remain to spend they money however they like, welcome or unwelcome, t’s a public space.

Now, this is where the trouble started, from what I understand. Mabel then Emma upstairs, then Walter of Benington and his friends started getting frustrated and angry. They started creating commotion, assaulted people living in that there house and Robert and Geoffrey too. T’as a mess, you can only imagine what eighteen of them armed people can do to a place like that on a Sunday, where everyone just sitting in piece drinking after church. I mean on the Lord’s day to do that there? Shame. Shame, I tell you. Somehow they struck Robert on the head with stones in all that commotion. ‘ere’s where we came in, ‘cause Robert fled into High Streen raisin’ the hue, crying, screaming with Walter racing after ‘im with a knife and a stiletto in his hands, tryin’ to kill the poor bastard. Benedict de Warde and some other neighbors got ‘here first, tryin’ to calm ‘em down, but you already know that this ain’t the end. Cause Walter chased after Benedict tryin’ to kill ‘im too, the mad lad lost it at that point. So you know, Benedict was bare handed, he had to find something to defend himself with, so he took some ballstave thing from a stranger and he laid one onto Walter so hard that the bastard fell down to the ground at the entrance of the lane. Once Walter was down, it was quite easy to get the rest of them to calm down. So me and my wife carried Walter the next day after he laid by St. Michael’s lane to the house of Geoffrey’s house, where the died instantly. Now, here’s the thing, I don’t know how he died there, ‘cause I went out to wash my hands of blood. But, at least I can say that at least no one was raped, abducted or killed, I mean, besides Walter here. But the again he started it.

Benedict de Warde was later found guilty and to be arrested, yet he had fled, nowhere to be found.

Falling Tower is a short story series based on real life events that have been document and verified. So if you want to, you can verify the events that happened here. Falling Tower is the last short story for 2019 part of the Pilot Program. But, since this is part of the Pilot Program that means, that if you want more… Read it, re-read it, share it, like it, comment and print it and send me pictures with people reading it, then burn that piece of paper so you don’t commit copyright theft.

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Attropolis XXXIII

They were heading north west, walking, galloping, they had time to chit chat. Planning what they would do to them once they got there and defeated them. The Caesar slowly calmed down, as he got to see the wonder that was his empire. From the plains, forests, hills and mountains that were painting the gorgeous land he was ruling over. “Sometimes you forget the beauty you have, if you don’t take the time to admire it from time to time.” He said out loud, while riding on his horse. Olanus took a moment to look at the horizon and Alicaria, nodding in agreement.

It only took them a few days to get to Cretin, a small city in the north of Rome, at the edge of mountains and sea. This was one of their stops before heading west towards Creetus. The city as small, but as vibrant as ever, the colors, pastels, like a Spring picture of fruits and green trees. The people here were all earnest, happy, full of life, even the elderly. The smell of freshly cooked food was filling the air, the fresh blood of the just cooked animals was making their mouths water, nothing could compare to fresh food. They set up tents by the beach, on a small field between the town and the water. As the evening set, the moon rose above the water, reflecting itself in the sea. This only brought melancholy to the Caesar. Basking himself into nostalgia, going by the fire, telling stories as the got drunk on red wine. This pleased the soldiers, giving them a nice morale boost.

Olanus was in his tent, contemplating everything. He was shaken, saddened and he still couldn’t comprehend what Alicaria had told him. Nor could he let it go, since it didn’t feel right. Alicaria came inside, trying to comfort the giant man, but he couldn’t look her properly in the eyes. It felt like magic, a Medusa that would turn him into a stone puppet for whatever she desires. Playfully she started tugging on his hair, as she sat on his lap. She asked to be bitten, played with, touched and rammed, like he used to do. His body erect, responding to her toxic touch. She started touching him in naughtier and naughtier places. He snapped, and pushed her off. She never saw him like this… She feared him now… In the awkward thick silence, she picked herself up and left the tent… He simply stood there… In darkness…

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Attropolis XXXII

She slapped the flame from Hippos’ hand and stomped it to put the fire out. She felt doomed, as the light might have drawn the beasts towards them. From panic rose noise, the people were turning their whispers into loud voices. A terrifying wave of shh went up the line of people, making them realize of their grave mistake. The silence fell again upon the line of people, but since so did the realization of their mistake, the panic now felt grater than before. The more silence they tried to create, the more their hearts would beat louder, the more the crunch of the leafs turned into whip cracks and the more the terrifying of getting mauled by wild animals was taking over.

They started slowly getting up and moving again. In their hands with knives, axes, swords, daggers and arrows. Afraid, terrified and petrified of what could happen, of what they’ve done and how they’ve exposed themselves to the darkness within the forest. A darkness with no light at the end that felt never-ending like a labyrinth. In the cold dead of the night the people were sweating all their anxiousness, fear, panic due to their own carelessness. The windless forest felt like a suffocating trap that strangled all their bravery out of them. A woman’ scream thundered through the forest, everyone stopped dead in their tracks. Focusing, holding their weapons tight, trying to muster their fear under control. Hands shaking, knees weak, arms heavy, this felt like the reckoning for their mistake. The scream faded as quickly as it came, a few minutes later… Nothing. Slowly they started moving again. The scream of the woman reappeared, just as loud, again. They stopped, again.

Footsteps, quick little footsteps around them. The light of the moon had faded behind clouds. The tears flowing down their faces, but silence made its presence again. They couldn’t trust their eyes or their ears, it felt like they were being played tricks on. A squirrel sprung its head out a bit, Hippos leaned in and took it in his hand, the squirrel climbed onto his shoulder, this made Adpetentia happy, he had calmed her down once again. Another squirrel popped its head out, she leaned in, she put a finger under his head, and the head came after her, and with the head, a wolf trying to bite her arm. Hippos pulled her back whilst stabbing the wolf in the right eye. The wolves ran out of the darkness towards people, Adpetentia couldn’t use her bow, it was too dark, so she took her arrows and used them as spears. Hippos snapped out of his disappointment and lust over his heroism in Creetus, reinvigorated by the attack of these beasts.

And the Roman Army….

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Attropolis XXXI

The Macedonians and the Greeks were slowly building up their forces to try and take down the Roman empire and escape their claws and join Creetus. Knowing that the Romans would tighten their hands around their neck, and that they’re on their way to strangle them, this felt like their only chance to fight back. But this proved to be a really hard task, one or two persons missing wasn’t a big task, but building an entire uprising under the stern eyes of Roman legionnaires was something immense. Pretending to be ignorant, pretending to be satisfied with your life as is under certain people and being content with how things are, isn’t a small feat. Especially when you have the urge to really destroy those oppressors and feel free for the first time in years. For the first time in years, not feeling trapped during the seasons of the year.

Night after night, they’d look to find a way around the soldiers, but, the watch over the citizens got stricter by day and by night. Nothing was to escape the watchful eyes of the soldiers patrolling the streets of any and all cities. Everyone was on high alert, the tension was palpable, both people and soldiers were petrified, unable to move naturally or make any sudden moves. As if there were two snakes prepared to strike one another. The blacksmiths were crafting more weapons and smuggling them, one for the Romans, two for their own. The armorers were doing the same thing. Working longer hours, to give themselves a fighting chance, as they learned and stole technique from the conquerors . The food makers were giving the soldiers worse and worse products, sabotaging their crops and production. The traders were always sacked of their imported goods for the Roman soldiers. Or they were getting into accidents.

These things felt like they gave them an advantage over the Roman arms, it felt like they struck smartly upon a larger foe, much like a rattle snake on a lion. Thus there were some that would be even more daring, putting out traps at night, so the Romans would step into them, trying to pick the soldiers off one by one. Yet in one of those faithful nights, a few of them were found out, decapitated and had their heads put up on sticks as examples. In front of the sticks, the traps they were using. This terrified people, but most of all, started a bright fire in everyone, but especially in those that were indifferent. Which meant that they were motivated to do more, better and quicker.

And on Trail North

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Attropolis XXX

The pain from the disappointing departure from the place he was born in was still strong, a frustration that he couldn’t let go. The past was haunting him, even if it was the past from just a day ago. The path through the dark forest was terrifying for the ladies and old women, the children were unsettled by the noises, and yet, Hippos couldn’t focus on anything, he couldn’t care about any of it. The howling of the wolves was echoing as the wind provided the bass to this song of nature. While insects were the beat to which people were marching on through the forest with clenched teeth and sweat dripping down them in this cold night.

Adpetentia holding her small bow in one hand, and the other hand ready to reach for her quiver to shoot. Two by two, in a row, walking, without any light, except what crept down between leafs and branches, from the moon. Everything was too peaceful, too simple, she knew that. Ready for everything, expecting the worse of the worse, as with every step the danger was growing. Silence started to settle in as they went deeper and deeper into the night, the winds calmed down, the pace started slowing down too. Then it came to a stop, a few minutes passed, they didn’t start moving, a few more minutes passed, nothing. They started becoming unsettled by the fact that they were in the middle of a forest, at the feet of the mountain, in a place full of wild animals that could easily kill them all…

Word came down the row, saying that some of the elderly women and men were bitten by some bugs that buried their heads into their skin. While others were bitten by something red and small or something flying. And that they all needed treatment. Hearing this, they only worried more about their fate as they now were hindered even more. Adpetentia started to feel something on her skin, she started itching. It felt like a thousand slimy bugs crawling up her legs. She grabbed Hippos by the hand, squeezing him, yet he didn’t feel anything, having his mind still focused on having left Creetus behind. Her mother noticing something wrong with her, picked the girl up, the bugs started crawling on her too. Biting them both, but both blind to see them and fight them off. They couldn’t see, nor could the know if what they felt was real, but their skin was reacting to all and everything. The itching, the swelling, the feeling of icky disgusting creatures on you and the puss left in their path. Something had fallen on them from above. It was slimy, it started to feel like it was crawling down on them. And then, Hippos, with a small flame, had shown them that there was nothing.

And in the rest of Macedon and Greece…

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Attropolis XXIX

The disappointment set in Hippos, as he has to leave, he has to bail on what is and what was his home. Dissatisfied, as he felt he was a coward, failing to protect and help those he grew to love, failing to defend the place he loves. Running from responsibility, running away from the right thing to do. His heart heavy as he failing himself too, as whatever power he has wasn’t invested where it mattered. Adpetentia was joyous on the other hand, as she knew that having him by her side meant they were going to spend more time together. Since she didn’t leave him behind, didn’t desert him to the cold grips, war, of death to strangle the life out of him. And instead, the warm embrace of her love would be there to soothe whatever wounds he has from this disappointment of his.

He had few things, a lock of hair from his mother, a bracelet from his father and the sword The Giant gave him. That, a robe and another pair of footwear for rainy and cold times. All were neatly packed in a white sheet that was tied around his shoulders. His white locks of hair that grew to under his shoulders were in the wind, as the two made their way towards her house, to now pick her things up. And from there they, together with her parents, went to the north of Creetus. A soldier was waiting for all the women, children and able elderly, to instruct them on the path they should take. How to dodge the Roman army men, pass without going through rough terrain, how to protect against wild animals and how to set up camp properly for the night. And in the worst case scenario, how to act in case that none of that helps. Some of the hope that he’d be helpful came back into his eyes, once again Hippos thought to himself that he’d be worthy and prove himself. But it all got crushed, when some women decided to stay to help the men. By either cooking, patching them up or taking care of what needed to be taken care of.

Slowly, carefully, a few hundred people from Creetus started moving north. The Giant was nowhere to be seen. Hippos felt a deep throbbing pain suddenly in his heart as he looked behind, yet saw no one. Just the image of a green hill, some yellowish buildings and the blue sea getting tiny, in his field of vision. Until they were nonexistent, as the trees started to envelop everyone as they moved further north.

And then…

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Pilot Program- The Ob(li)vious

So, here I wasn’t again, faced with the toughest of the choices any person can make. Do I want chocolate chip ice cream? Or do I need chocolate chip ice cream? The obvious answer is yes to both those questions. Hey, can I not have a chocolate chip ice cream? What a sexy look he has on his face. No. Oh, I so didn’t expect this treatment. At least the ice cream tastes like trash. So what am I not doing next today? Bad question, you could say, or not, I don’t know you. I think I’m not going for something salty now, because definitely wasn’t too sweet and I’m not thirsty at all. Ugh, a crow, I’d hate to be one of those. Wait! NO! Fuck! Miss, can you please continue whatever it is you are doing here? Because I’d love to see you make an ass of yourself some more. Oh wow. Do you have to be so condescending all the time? Hah, that will show him. Well, you’re talking to me like I am the crow. What an ass. Go and don’t screw yourself, mister. At least I can fly and there’s nothing you can do about it.

Talk about not rude… Jeez. Now where shouldn’t I go next? Oh, I still don’t want something salty. Now how didn’t this work? I forgot… There once wasn’t a witch that didn’t curse this whole nation to not talk in not opposite actions. Otherwise the thing they didn’t talk in opposition would happen to them. But somehow it’s just the good things that always don’t happen to people, like this. But what I remember is how much this doesn’t last, a day, an hour, fifteen minutes? I just don’t know if it wouldn’t work if I weren’t to try the same, but not looking at a woman. Bless her heart for blessing us for thousands of years for no bad reason.

It doesn’t look like a rain is coming, and I don’t hate the fact that the rain isn’t coming and I have every clue to not undo this. Why aren’t I like this? Why is my brain not a mess? How not hard is it to not figure this out? I am doing this right… I don’t think. Don’t crows get wet? I know this, obviously. This rarely happens to me, so I’m not used to this. Ha. Very funny, this is very funny. Am I not going to live as a talking crow from now on? Or is this not the best idea for a blessing one can ever receive? All of these are bad questions, for a good girl like me. And I love them all so much. Nothing like not sitting on the apartment building you don’t live in, with your keys in your mouth, not waiting for this storm to not pass. And for me not to get back to normal. Someone please don’t shoot me. God bless this.

This is not the seventh entry in the Pilot Program. How does this not work? If you don’t love this short story, and don’t want it to become the story of 2020. Don’t read it, don’t comment, don’t like it, don’t share it.

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