Enjoy a preview of the novel, Messages from Zazamon, coming soon.
Messages from Zazamon
Chapter 0
Prologue
There are things far worse than the feeling of warm urine running down one’s leg in public. For El Ray Theocritus, founder of the Church of Epistemetology and sacred prophet of the Elders of Zazamon, at this moment in time it was the deafening din of nearly one hundred thousand adoring members of his church chanting his name in eager anticipation. He would have greatly preferred the urine; it was nearly flowing already. His stomach turned as the announcer read his standard introduction.
“We unite tonight to recite the Epistemetology oath,” boomed a strong male voice through a thousand stadium loudspeakers. “El Ray became first, El Ray of the bright lightning last. El Ray is head, El Ray middle, and through El Ray all things have their being. El Ray is the foundation of heaven and earth and the Church. El Ray is king, and El Ray himself first Father of all.” All of this the audience echoed back in one unified voice. “Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, the one and only, the Ray the Truth and the Light – El Ray Theocritus!”
The audience ecstatically roared as fireworks exploded in the open air above and a thousand strobe lights flashed in unison. Powerful funk music broke out as a high male voice began to sing the devotional hymn, “His Name is El Ray.” The stomps and claps of the crowd shook the Coliseum walls.
This was El Ray Theocritus’s cue. He was supposed to walk out on stage and give a speech. All of this was supposed to make him happy. He was powerful and revered. His church was a worldwide phenomenon. The last of his opponents had just met his untimely end. All of his prophecies had come true. And he had money. Lots and lots of money. A ridiculous amount of money, more money than he could ever dream of spending. Yet he was nearly immobilized by fear. Every instinct urged him to flee in terror and never look back, so he reminded himself of why he couldn’t.
His eyes drifted slowly to the other side of the stage. There stood a misshapen seven-foot-tall albino woman with jet black hair and burning coals for eyes; she would destroy his reputation. Next to her stood a serenely beautiful young lady in a flowing white tunic; she would destroy his kneecaps. And next to her stood a respectable, well-dressed young man with a serious face and stern composure. God only knows what he would do. His only friend in the world was a docile barefoot nineteen-year-old girl with a daisy in her braided blonde hair on the other side of the stage, but she was too young and innocent to be able to help him at all.
El Ray gazed back at the crowd. They were waiting for him. They were all waiting for him to give his victory speech in commemoration of his church’s ultimate triumph. Should I tell them, he asked himself frantically, should I tell them it was all a lie? That I made it all up? About who I really am? Should I tell them the horrifying secret about the Elders of Zazamon? Would they believe me? Would it even matter if they did?
Finally, the urine came. And mightily it flowed. Fortunately, his magnificent white robe was too thick to provide testament to his fear. He stepped forward into the spotlight, his golden grills glistening between his parted lips as he beamed his extravagant smile with his absurdly large white wig wafting in the breeze of the cool Los Angeles night. He began strutting out to the center of the stage in time with the music to maintain his cover, unsure as to what he would say when he finally mounted the gyrating spaceship shaped speaking edifice.
As each funky hip thrust drew him closer and closer to the moment of his crucial decision, he tried to recall how he had even ended up in this mad mess to begin with.
Enjoy the first chapter of the epic saga that will make you laugh, cry, chortle, possibly vomit (in a good way), but definitely not ask for a refund. Coming soon to… wherever the hell you can get books anymore.