The Dark Hands of Agaliarept: Kamaus Shadow
Author: Dennis Siluk
The Dark Hands
[Advance] It was a while ago that I was in Iceland, on the rock formation, walking by the sea, overlooking the sea that is. I remember it quite well, quite well indeed, how I can forget it. I think I brought something home that day (or it followed me home), home being in St. Paul, Minnesota. I will tell you what I brought home in a moment, but first things first. As I was saying, about to say is that I met a creature and he said this to me:
"I'm Kamau, and below me, is the Minister of Doom, and there are many and various ways to die, he has on a bone-skull plate, carved into it, seventy-two ways to die." I didn't quite understand it (wasn't sure who said it either, or to home) nor exactly what he was trying to say, not at the time anyhow, but I do know now.
What sticks in my head is: 72-ways to die. He was talking to someone in the water I think, no I'm sure. It was Kamau, who I was talking to, looking at, but who was it in the water? I know now, I didn't know then, but I do now. Agaliarept, it was he, Agaliarept, it was the henchman from Hell, Agaliarept, the one Kamau talked to, and the one I'm going to tell you about in a moment. This is when Agaliarept got to know my name, and thus, out of revenge for telling Kamau his death sentence (his form of death to be) how he would die, he came to visit me. So with no more ado, I shall share his visit (I mean visits):
St. Paul, Minnesota—the hands
You may find this strange, but I will try to explain it the best I can. In July, of 2005 (prior to my visit to Iceland), I woke up choking, someone had shut up my breathing cords I was gasping for air, almost died: I did pray on the spot. I was sleeping; I had noticed my neck getting tighter, I mean my neck was being sucked in, my throat was blocked, tighter and tighter it became.
Agaliarept is Satan's Henchman in hell and he has a legion of demon working for him—working overtime sometimes. Evidently, we do not see eye to eye on some things
now again, last night in the dark, my dark bedroom, I'm laying sleeping, and my wife, short, laying down farther than, or so I thought by me. I'm up towards the head of the bed. I sleep almost dead like when I get to sleep, and my wife has to check things out, she is more alert than I am. So something again creeps into the bedroom this is 3:O0 AM, my wife is really out on the computer, copying down the book: 'The Curse of the Abyss Worm' (a book I keep working on and never seem to get published, and for some reason sit it aside for a later date).
Thus, dark hands I say, dark hands I see in my dream, or is it that I am half awake, I'm not sure, and all of a sudden chocking, hard and sharp, and I scream, and the hands let go, and I saw them let go, and they were dark, and my wife jumped out of bed (I thought: boy, she jumped quickly—she turned on the lights, asked what was the problem? Looked about, saw nothing, I said, to her:
"It's just a bad dream, a very bad dream."
So I'd not upset her, I left it alone. But the hands grabbed my stomach; I have the red marks to prove it (had): unless I'm trying to kill myself; one in particular to the left of me, the upper part of my abdomen. He had missed his mark. The bed looked—I suppose—looked as if it was further down. You might be asking: demon can see in the dark thus, no big thing (a statement, or perhaps a question, or statememt-quesiton); if that is the truth (and I know the truth), then his eyes were fooled by another angelic being behind him, because he didn't miss my neck last time, but he did this time. Or he needs glasses, like me.
And so, for those who sleep, and think you are safe, let me tell you, be that as it may, I have dealt with the other world for a long time, and they are real, as real as you and I, and they have the advantage of seeping into both realms—like vapor: and they don't sleep, and they can pear in the dark, but need adjustable lenses it seems, when in the human atmosphere of earths dark an eye is an eye—supernatural or not.
And so, these hands were the hands that Kamau saw at the edge of the cliff, looking down into the sea? His employer you might say, I think.
Dedicated to Ben Szumskyi [1/6/06]
See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com you can see Dennis' work
Thanks CommonSense http://www.blog-king.info/