I am pleased to announce the release of my latest novel “Prophecy of the Anunnaki” and a chapter drop follows immediately below!
***To obtain a free copy via Kindle Unlimited or to buy it for $2.99, GET THE KINDLE BOOK HERE
CHAPTER 1
The nightmare took hold again, laying claim to Georgia Mitchell’s mind and very soul. In truth it had never left, lying in wait, pouncing on her helpless, sleeping form. Its grip was relentless, a spell immune to wakefulness, like all the other times. And after its assault, it undoubtedly would linger, leaving sickening emotions and memories behind in its wake. The night terror had always lurked in the shadows, and presumably would stay forever; more real than anything tangible in her life, stretching back forever through the eternal mists of time.
On one such night, the unsettling, familiar images stirred, overwhelming Georgia. And as usual, they guided her back to a world that transcended mere dreams; the echo from the past relentless, a reminder of a continuous struggle which ran parallel to her everyday life. They were dreams of a past that seemed to meld timelessly with her present, blurring the lines of sleep and wakefulness, a chilling shadow that spanned across the fabric of existence.
Georgia was again ensnared within the familiar confines of a cage, a cage which sat within a sterile, blinding-white chamber. The cage-walls bore down on her, their metallic embrace offering neither solace nor escape. The air itself felt cold and sterile, a sharp contrast to the suffocating heat of her emotions. It was a room that she knew well, a place that existed not only in dreams, but in her memories, too.
Georgia's heart raced with a mix of dread and desperation. Each corner of the room seemed to mock her, a harsh reminder of her entrapment. She reached out, fingers scraping against the cold surface, but the confines of the cage held firm. She was bound to it, part of it. Panic welled within her, a rising tide that threatened to consume her. She couldn't escape the nightmare, a haunting reverie embedded within the present she was living in and a past she was forced to endure, endlessly.
An albino creature leaned in, gazing at her; light eyed, translucent skinned, white haired. Georgia screamed soundlessly for reprieve. The creature's eyes, monstrously clinical, bore into her; intense, and defiant of context and definition. Its gaze was neither malevolent, nor compassionate. But it stripped her of all humanity. She felt exposed, vulnerable in her perennial helplessness.
The creature's voice was an unfamiliar yet oddly recognizable cadence, uttering words that bypassed comprehension, yet nestled deep within her psyche.
"I have molded you into something greater, a reflection of myself," the voice murmured in her thoughts, brushing against her awareness; the sensation insidious and unsettling, intrusive and intimate, clinical yet loving. A chilling understanding swept over her – she was no longer herself, but the product of the design the creature had imposed on her.
The voice's insistent whisper continued. It unfurled a directive that made her shiver. "Your very seeds will spread your essence and populate the earth," it entreated. “And they will be divine, in part, just as you are.”
It was a command that seemed to twist reality, melding the boundaries between the known and the unfathomable. The creature's fantastical motives coiled around her thoughts, leaving Georgia to grapple with the meaning of the albino’s words and their far-flung consequences.
I am trapped again, in the same nightmare as before, a nightmare beyond time and space, she reflected. As with every nightmare, Georgia then felt an invasion that exceeded anything physical. The violation transcended the confines of her body, extending its insidiousness into the very essence of her being.
Her captor pressed upon her, its instrument or hand forcing its way between her thighs. The penetration was ruthless, lacking regard for her autonomy or privacy. The violation shattered her spirit as it had always done, rendering the delineation between soul and body meaningless. The boundaries which safeguarded her birthright were again defiled; the many essences they guarded, a well spring of countless lives, were ripped from her, every one of them.
"You have done well," the albino's words reverberated through the ether, a chilling echo that twisted knife-like through her being. The simple explanation, a twisted form of consolation, only intensified her horror. She was now left to grapple with and process the violation she had endured, the anguish of experience clashing with incomprehensible, alien intent.
But the creature wasn’t done. She felt as if her heart, the very core of her existence, was ripped from her chest. It was a searing agony that seemed to cleave her in two, stunning in its cruelty. The creature laid claim to one of her torso bones– an act which echoed the extent of its dominion and the futility of her protestations.
Amidst the surreal aftermath of violation and agony, a strange calm settled over the artificially bright, blinding room. In a curious blend of foreign and familiar tongue, she was thanked with a veneer of politeness that seemed absurd considering the horrors she had endured.
She was told that her genetic essence, contained in the bone he had removed, would enable him and his fellow newcomers to fill the world with many people much like her. And that despite the pain, this was performed for the greater good of her species. Its undertone was nurturing, paternal pride clashing with the horrors that she had endured.
She was then offered comfort, a retreat to a garden of relaxation where she could find solace for as long as she wished. The temptation of rest lay within reach, promising sanctuary from the torment that had broken her.
But the embers of defiance still flickered within her, a spark of willpower that refused to be extinguished. With a surge of determination, she rejected the lies and tore herself free from her restraints. It was an act of raw, untamed willfulness, a reclamation of her energy and agency. And so, she emerged from the suffocating confines of her torment, thrust back into a world drenched in the sunlight of reality.
The transition was jarring, her senses assaulted with countless, overwhelming sensations. Georgia embraced the blinding overhead sun--even its heat--and the earthy scent of sweat and manure. She welcomed the creaking protest sounds of wooden wagons and longed to hop on board one of them, letting the benign beasts which drew them, carry her away. This was her world, a world that she knew; natural, divinely dirt-smeared– a place where life endured in unadorned simplicity.
Amidst this sunlit reality, Georgia's path intersected with that of an elder figure, a presence that radiated a sense of wisdom and authority. The beautiful features of this elder-perhaps a priestess or goddess-- carried a haunting familiarity, stirring within her a profound sense of connection. In the gaze exchanged between them, there was an unspoken recognition, as if the bond that linked them was etched into the fabric of their souls.
In that moment, Georgia's heart throbbed with a mixture of emotions – a complex of anguish, resilience, and a yearning to comprehend the unfathomable. The elder or priestess, simple yet insightful, held the promise of answers, of insights that might illuminate her haunted journey. It was a meeting of souls, an intersection of past and present.
"Why has this been done to me?" Georgia's voice trembled with a mixture of desperation and frustration as she turned to the woman before her, her eyes pleading for explanation. Her suffering was immense, a burden that seemed unbearable without the solace of comprehension. "Was it someone like us or the gods from above?" she ventured further.
The woman's response was delivered with an air of calm that belied the gravity of the situation. "It is Enki and Enlil’s way, their way," she stated, her simple response carrying a weight that resonated deeply with Georgia.
The mention of Enki and Enlil, beings much like her yet also gods, sent ripples of recognition through her consciousness, names that held echoes of ancient divinity and enigmatic power. In that moment, a truth crystallized before her – the realization that her suffering was not an isolated event but rather a manifestation of a grander design.
As the woman's words settled upon her, Georgia's mind raced to piece together the fragments of understanding. Enki and Enlil were figures associated with divine influence, cosmic manipulation, members of a race, deities that had orchestrated her torment. The revelation carried profound implications, weaving a tapestry that spanned epochs and traversed realms.
In the wake of this revelation, a sense of connection formed between Georgia and countless, faceless others who had fallen victim to the same, cruel fate. She was not alone in her suffering; the trauma she had experienced reverberated through time and space, echoing from the distant past to the present day.
With the weight of this knowledge, Georgia's anguish transformed into a shared lament, a collective outcry against the capricious whims of gods, advanced beings, and the intricate web of fate that they wove. Yet, amidst the pain, a spark of determination flickered within her. She was no longer a victim; she had been thrust into a narrative that spanned ages, and she held the power to reshape its course.
As the woman's gaze met hers, there was a silent understanding – a recognition that the journey ahead would be one of discovery, resilience, and the relentless pursuit of answers. Perhaps it involved healing, even retribution.
"Am I still a woman?" Georgia's voice quivered with uncertainty; her very identity shaken by the harrowing experiences that had torn through her existence.
The woman's response carried a reassuring certainty, as if the answer had been written in the stars. "Yes, you are a woman, and a mother,” she affirmed, her tone steady and unwavering. "For you have lives to nurture and save. You are a goddess, yourself, or at the very least, a prophetess of one."
The weight of those words settled upon Georgia's shoulders, a revelation that affirmed her humanity and elevated her to a higher plane of existence. She still was a woman, a source of life, capable of nurturing and protecting those in need. And she bore a divine purpose, a purpose which now filled her with awe and trepidation.
The woman's gaze held a depth of wisdom that seemed to stretch back through generations, a lineage of priestesses and prophetesses who had stood at the intersection of the mortal and the divine.
"You shall tell your story, our story,” the woman continued, her voice carrying a note of reverence, "and preserve it for all eternity."
In those words, Georgia recognized the gravity of her experiences – the suffering, the trauma, and the journey she had embarked upon. Her narrative was not merely her own; it was the saga of ancient history, cosmic design, and the enduring resilience of the human spirit. The woman's eyes seemed to convey an unspoken promise, a pact forged between generations past and present, bound by a shared destiny.
Georgia now understood. She was more than her circumstances; she was a storyteller, a guardian of truths that spanned realms and dimensions. With a determined resolve, she embraced her multi-faceted role as a woman, mother, deity, prophetess and historian.
She awoke from the nightmare, only this time with an altered outlook. Georgia realized that the recurring nightmare was not just a personal fragment of her psyche—it was a thread woven into the very fabric of humanity's past. It ran beyond her individual existence, reaching back into the annals of collective history, an echo resonating through the corridors of time. It was a dance of convergences, a waltz of humanity with an enigmatic race that had descended from the cosmos’ starry expanse—the Anunnaki.
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