From the disjointed diary of Edward Whye: Telchis [1], Ghostwalker [2], Oothoonian [3] Perfectus and CEO of the private police force Whye Security Services (WSS).
Edward Whye (Credit: H.A. Matos)
*****
Eddy & Jas: Love & Undeath (Credit: H.A. Matos)
Orpheus City, Oothoon (Cebrail 21 [4] , 1797, Late Third Age of the Gnostic Era in the Epigenetic Aeon [5].
She’s dead, dead, dead: Jas is dead. One moment she was there, and the next…, the next…, his flames took her. It was him: Lee Gongjin, the dwarf with the butterfly tattoo!! He barged into Giordano’s, summoned fire and killed her! He dared to seek retaliation against us! I rotted his fucking head with ectoplasm…, that black slime can go through any lifeform if you let it seep enough. I would do it again, and again, and again, and again…
Jasmine Stoyanovich (Credit: H.A. Matos)
But it was too late: she was already ash in my hands. I stood silently in the middle of a burning restaurant, surrounded by throngs of screaming patrons, until my boys came to get me, along with that miserable SOB: Mr. Two. I don’t know how I explained everything to them, to the police or to the big guys from Los: everything is blurry from the fire to Katya’s stunned and teary face as I dazedly relayed the news of her mother’s, my wife, passing.
A fiery assassination at Giordano’s (Credit: H.A. Matos)
The cops will return her to us once the investigation is completed. Mr. Two read my mind on the way from the restaurant and confirmed everything, so I should be in the clear with Her Majesty, at least, if she doesn’t take my head for being “lax with my security detail”. Fuck, this job…, this fucking job has costed me everything. I swear I’ll retire after the funeral. Let the vultures back at the company deal with the Eupraxus’ wetworks.
Oh, Virtuous Ghatanothoa, Goddess of Domesticity, why must this happen? WHY? Why?
***
Orpheus City, Oothoon (Cebrail 24, 1797, Late Third Age of the Gnostic Era in the Epigenetic Aeon).
The cops returned her to me this morning, in an opaque glass urn. I haven’t slept at all since her death, so I must have looked like a fucking zombie to them. They told me they were reviewing the security footage from Giordano’s, and asked me if I wished to amend/erase the police report or take any part of the evidence for myself. I told them not to bother me with that: even with all the perks of being a Perfectus, I don’t need special treatment in this case. I didn’t do anything wrong.
Jas’ remains (Credit: H.A. Matos)
Speaking of our nation’s most prized profession, my colleagues Ms. One and Mr. Two came to my house with a letter from Her Majesty, in the traditional black envelope. It conveyed her most “heartfelt condolences”, in a sentence so short that it was rude, followed by a diatribe about how vital my company was to the Perfecti, and how I shouldn’t let my grief “distract me” from the rule of law. I stared at the Union emblem at the end of the letter for about three minutes, whilst Two waited, shoving candy in his rancid mouth, and One stood absent-mindedly in front of me, mumbling gibberish as usual. It took all my self-control to avoid ripping the missive apart and kicking them out after a severe beating. Instead, I thanked our dearest leader for her empathy and sent them on their merry way.
A letter from Her Majesty (Credit: H.A. Matos)
Next came Mum, Anatoly and Tatyana (via flying saucer from Arwe), Pater Leonidas of the Ghatanothoan Cult of the Good Work, and Andrew Koch: the local undertaker. The good priest gathered us in our library and led us in kneeling prayer, wishing Jas a speedy reincarnation. Katya, clinging to my arm with her tiny claws, sobbed uncontrollably throughout the whole thing. After a while, I joined her in her anguish.
A rainstorm swept in once Leonidas was done, so we discussed the funeral with Koch amidst rumbling thunderclaps and shimmer-ing lightning. Anatoly and Tatyana wanted to take her to Arwe, but I didn’t allow it. I even threatened them with the full powers of my office, for my immunity also applies to megacorporate visitors. They relented, and we compromised on Gurdjieff Cemetery, on Hoor-paar-kraat’s [6] archology on our city. That’s where she should rest: under the crossroads between our peoples
A household shrine to Ghatanothoa, Goddess of Domesticity (Credit: H.A. Matos)
Orpheus City, Oothoon-Cebrail 27, 1797, Late Third Age of the Gnostic Era in the Epigenetic Aeon.
Today was the funeral. It was as she would’ve wanted it: a modest ceremony without press or fanfare, attended by our families and a few representatives from the Eupraxus, Hoor-paar-kraat and the MSA; with the best security in the most expensive chapel at Gurdjieff, and with trusted Leonidas officiating the rites. We placed her on an orichalcum cube laden with layers of barrier spells and micro-portals leading to Samael: the dimensional realm where everything that has been lost, forgotten or destroyed ends; sinking into a pile of feral mnemovores and dispersed spells. I stepped in for Katya and endured the traditional hundred lashes, for she is still a minor.
Jas’ Tomb (Credit: H.A. Matos)
It hurts…, it hurts so much.
***
Orpheus City, Oothoon-Cebrail 28, 1797, Late Third Age of the Gnostic Era in the Epigenetic Aeon.
She’s still here. Oh, Ghatanothoa: she’s still here! Fettered to my office!!
It’s a ghost spawned by the lingering effects of her Magic: a tzalmavet! A solid white shadow speaking with her voice and reliving our arguments whilst unleashing her spells on my stuff! She’s anchored to our family photos!!
A Tzalmavet!! (Credit: H.A. Matos)
Why? Why must this happen? WHY?
***
Notes extracted from the Kenomitian Compendium
[1] Telchinnes: a subspecies of the Gibborite race. They are amphibious humanoids with silvery skin, dark holes for eyes, narrow slits for noses, and black voids for mouths
[2] Ghostwalking: a form of advanced Necromancy that grants the power to observe, alter, create and control all types of ghosts save for tzalmavet; as well as to raise zombies and secrete ectoplasm.
[3] Oothoonian Union: a Decopunk dystopia organized like a pyramid scheme with an absolute monarch, the Eupraxus, at the top; who is assisted by the Perfecti: individuals, organizations and lineages who enjoy absolute immunity as long as they enforce the inscrutable edicts penned by their patron from the capital city of Los. It came about after the unification of the Metis Federation (an exclusionary and Steampunk democracy), the Holy Kingdom of Zagreus (a Raygun Gothic theocracy) and the Eunation of Phanes (the Decopunk homeland of the Eupraxus monarchy), the Asterope Territories (Oothoon’s Steelpunk extra-dimensional colonies) and the Domination of Sideris (Oothoon’s Atompunk extra-planetary colonies).
A glimpse into the Oothoonian Union (Credits: Kenomitian)
[4] Cebrail: the ninth month (with a length of 30 days) of the Penemuean, a solar calendar with 12 months of 28–31 days each. The year consists of 365 days, with a leap day being added to the second month in the leap years every four years. A day lasts for twenty-four hours whilst a week is comprised of seven days (Phulday, Ophielday, Hagithday, Ochday, Phalegday, Bethorday, Aratronday), and a year is divided into twelve months.
[5] According to the Wheel of Ages, the Late Third Age of the Gnostic Era in the Epigenetic Aeon (geologically placed in the Holocene) has lasted for 299 years: 1501-1600, inspired by the 20th Century AD; 1601-1700, inspired by the 21st Century AD; and 1701-1800, inspired by the 22nd Century AD.
[6] Hoor-paar-kraat: a Cassette Futurist megacorporation, prominent in the robotics/cybernetics, transportation, defense and aerospace industries, as well as otherworldly exploration. The higher one is on its corporate ladder, the more cybernetic augmentations one is expected to acquire.
A glimpse into the Hoor-paar-kraat (Credits: Kenomitian)
