Прохор Озорнин - On the Wings of Hope - Prose

“Maybe, let’s drink for our own world, for Fantasy? What a fine one!”

“Huh! It can be even more than that! Everything is possible if you are living in the Fantasy!”

17.09.2017

The Man looked back and became stupefied.

“And who might you be?” he questioned his new acquisition, which has now become visible.

“I am the tail of yours,” proudly answered the Tail.

“How did you manage to grow behind me?” the Man asked in dread.

“I have always been there!” the Tail proudly threw up his tail tip. “It's simply you who have not been noticing me for all the time up to the current moment,” he added reproachfully. “And I, by the way, have been striding with you since your very birth, not coming off for a single second.”

“But why are you so big?” the Man was embarrassed.

“Because I have gradually grown up to this size myself,” the Tail forked itself as if blurring in a smile. “Thanks to your daily efforts, to let you know that. What wouldn't one do for nasty people!” and the Tail hit the pavement with its tip so that sparks started flying out of the strike spot. Rare passersby turned back on that sound, but, as if having noticed nothing, indifferently continued their morning swaying to despised work cells.

“What's that… do they see you?” the Man was surprised.

“Me? No. They don't even see tails of their own, for the time being.”

“And how did you manage to make yourself visible at once?”

“In… some way. You will learn… a bit later,” the Tail replied evasively.

“And of what use can you be to me, I wonder?” the Man was perplexed.

“Well… I can twist, in a spiral. Sort of beautifully, you know. First I will twist myself all around you, and then h-o-o-o-w turn around sharply – and you will willingly twirl around like a spinning top on one spot, noticing nothing. Well, almost like these beings,” and he pointed with his tip in a direction of passengers, who were diligently pushing one another, trying to stick themselves inside a morning bus. “And, after all, they are people too… normal ones, as they consider themselves, tailless, that's it,” the Tail argued in a truly philosophical manner. “Can you imagine what sort of surprise is awaiting all of them?” he grinned.

“To learn, that they are – reptiles?” the Man didn't understand.

“Well, no… to learn that they are normal abnormal ones! Abnormally normal ones. And that each and every one of them possesses a tail. And do you know how large is that tail of some of them? Oh, it's such a! One can probably surround the entire mountain with it. Lasts and stretches with no start and visible ending. Either constantly beats somebody, or curls under feet of others, so that they stumble about it once.”

“And can you… strike someone with all your forces?” the Man grinned mischievously. “As painful as you can do it!”

“Well, no…” the Tail divided into two parts. “You perfectly manage to achieve this even without my aid. That's why I have been growing rapidly not on days and on hours, gaining more powers. So that further on I can twist around you more feasibly, like a boa. So that you, naturally, cannot even peep once.”

“Hey, you!” the Man screamed and tried to turn back to grab his Tail, but in a process of own rotation in one place Tail rotated together with the Man so that he didn't manage to ever catch it.

“No way, my prey!” Tail laughed loudly. “I am like ego, I say!”

“Your price is a penny!” shouted angered Man after a series of unsuccessful attempts to settle accounts with his tail.

“I may worth few pennies, yes, but so are you, prey-in-distress!” Tail continued to roar with laughter, beating out on a pavement new and new rhythms with each opportunity.

“Grab you I will! Chop you I shall!” the Man started crying out with all his forces. Lonely passersby were looking with interest on the odd fellow, and, having hemmed something to themselves, continued moving their own way, where their own tails have been steadily leading them.

“No…” laughed the Tail. “You won't chop me off that easily. For I am, you know, sort of… transgene. Special. Self-regenerating. You will chop off a slice from me, and I will grow back soon enough as if nothing has ever happened. To burn me don't try! I am the ego, I am the lie!” the Tail whipped and whipped in ecstasy on a pavement.

“I will better chop you!”

“I will better shop you. Cheap but good!”

“I will bring you to justice, take you by besiege!”

“Trying to use my own tactics, aye?” the Tail grinned. “Well, you can try! The result of struggle is undecided, you know. For I am much like a shadow… become a shadow yourself, and you will see me no longer… just like the others. Only the total darkness will conceal me from prying eyes…”

“Sun!” exclaimed the Man. “You will be burned by the sun! So that you won't ever grow!”

“Guessed that yourself, huh?” the Tail grinned again. “But, alas, I am afraid that it's already too late for you. Better turn back and see!” he guffawed.

There was a truck moving directly towards the man at a full speed. Somehow oddly, dancing on a tip of his own tail, a man came to the carriageway without noticing. The truck was rushing directly towards him with incredible speed, and it was no longer possible to evade the collision. Tail twisted around the man precisely like a boa, giving no chances to move. “Sun!” the Man tried to shout, but the Tail clamped his mouth.

“Do you understand now in what moment they will finally see me?” the Tail silently whispered to the Man.

15.02.2013

Many called ones, yet few exiled

Mogoth, my faithful and fearless servant, together we have been waiting for this moment for uncountable centuries – and it did come at long last. Praised be the name of the Unspeakable One, for we have finally gained an opportunity to interfere with the planetary destiny of those who keep calling themselves as humans. For too long our enemies didn’t allow us to approach them on such a scale in which it became possible now. The visible ordered universe is being engaged in battle with chaotic, a battle where the outcome will be decided by a free will. And now our possibilities are even. The one whose name cannot be spoken is calling for his servants for this final struggle for human essence. I call for you, Mogoth, my faithful warrior! I call for you for the sake of victory over our enemy and eternal glory of the Unspeakable One!

You will be embodied in their world, Mogoth, embodied like a human – and you will lead them to the fulfillment of our plan. You will bring them into a bosom of our own maker – in the name of his eternal fiery glory. And will pull them out from hands of our enemy, force them to accept our way, you will become a guide between our planes and impose our eternal indelible imprinting on their essences – for the sake of our common last victory. And, as our enemies like to speak, – so be it! Come to me, Mogoth! Come forth, my chosen warrior!

***

Joy, fiery all-devouring joy overflows my heart, Mogoth! I believe that your first success on their plane is a true sign of our future victory. Doubt, doubt, doubt – that’s what forces them to finally come to us, Mogoth! Having forced them to doubt, you have managed to touch the basis of their link with our enemy. Force them to doubt, make them time and again rethink of how just are all deeds made by them under the influence of our foe. Force them to doubt their usefulness, – show them that benefit of one is almost always a harm for another; show how naive, ridiculous and unrealizable their dreams of what our enemy is calling as common welfare! By undermining belief in the usefulness of their own actions, you destroy the basis of their link with our enemy.