Jaboenia walked in great places toward the light which was where the power source was. The town was alive although dead in spirit along with thousands of their loved ones who were trapped beneath the desolute black graves where worms ate away at their flesh, and who prayed for death which would have even been a gift. Their screams could be heard for miles across the boundless night air, which echoed off the mountains like a passing plane. So the dust from the burning flesh from the grave clouded the town’s air, making it thick, unbearable, and choking those who would dare to exit their home without permission from great Jaboenia. Jaboenia possessed opulence, gold, silver, ultimate power, and being the only faithful one who was worthy of walking alone without fear of death because he held the original copy of the manuscript of ultimate life. Even in total darkness, Jaboenia’s presence was illuminated which sent terror through the souls of those who dared to look. Jaboenia allowed all to live whose ancestors had used their money wisely during the time of depression and purchased a copy of the $777 manuscript with the secret code to life for the buyer, and 7 others of their immediate family. The manuscript would also keep the buyer and 7 family members safe during the war of Jaboenia & the Army of Westmizzua, but not total life was given because the survivors would then be granted laser vision to see their buried family members die in secession in the grave, without the manifestation of death.
For years the army of Westmizzua nurtured the most intelligent citizens of the community, scientist, engineers, and even doctors, in preparation for the Great War with Jaboenia, to steal the original manuscript so all could live in peace. After 100 years of preparation, that dreaded and horrible day arrived, and the great army of Westmizzua could be heard for miles away marching toward the upper right side of the mountain where Jaboenia abided. The towns people crawled on their knees toward their windows in terror hoping that they would catch a glimpse of the war of Jaboenia vs the army of Westmizzua, while the pressure of their heart beats almost crushed their souls. In all his splendor, Jaboenia could not be seen, but candlesticks lit with fire that protruded from his mouth, surrounded by a circle of stars of fire could be seen as it sent popping debris into the atmosphere. Even the dead were no longer heard screaming, and their souls gasped holding their final breath and burying their faces in the dirt and dust of the grave. For exactly 7 seconds, there was no movement from the army and silence betrothed the sky and only voices of what appeared to be images of inhabitants holding embossed stolen manuscripts disintegrated into the night air as Jaboenia approached. No thief will live yelled Jaboenia, neither will they die, but their souls shall be tormented forever in the dark and fiery grave.
The battle ensued as the clash of Jaboenia and the army erupted, making way for the clash between greatness and darkness, the army of the town of Westmizzua, one million in numbers represented darkness. This conflict was the final chapter of hope for all that looked on in terror, and for the soldiers of the army of Westmizzua who lived for this very moment. Total darkness with only the sky activated with movement from Jaboenia could be seen. Then the earth shook, and the sky rumbled as Jaboenia moved just one step and whose presence finally unearthed itself as it melted away human flesh sending fragments of bones and eyeballs launching into the air like missiles, the town was succumbed by fire and death at the 7th hour.
Now the town of Westmizzua stood in total fear, only those that survived this horrible day was able to live, but did so only by wearing the dreaded number 13 on their foreheads, coded with one thousand micro numbers that distinguished them one from another, and numbered their descendants who would live, and the number of years that they would survive. Then, the town of Westmizzua began its new legacy and one that pitched blackness throughout the atmosphere with only the grave illuminating the continuous death of their loved ones whose final screams of terror rippled through the graves, although their voices could no longer be heard. Their eyes were filled with blood and dust from the grave, which memorialized the deaths during a daily ceremony to remind all those who dare to approach the great Jaboenia that their numbers gave them only limited access to life. Now the dreaded and still darkness of the night terrorized those who survived, as the bodies and debris from the army were carried away and placed near the grave of all those who did not bear the dreaded number 13, and those who had possession of the stolen manuscript. This town has no army, no leaders, and no lives who dare to conquer the great Jaboenia who rules forcefully without opposition, but allows the inhabitants of the town to exit their homes only every 7th hour. Otherwise, death will comply and the grave will swallow them up, only to die the second death.
Author- Bernadette Anthon