WITH A TOUCH OF THE HUNGRY RED DRAGON!

The Grand finale… continued from last week’s “The Sons o Balaam”

He encircled his lucrative target one more time spreading over the expansive plain and came descending upon the unsuspecting kindred, ready to unleash terror from all faculties. His indicators confirmed the landmine was in place. There was not a chance for escape, even for the luckiest. This would be the day truth is wiped off the map of the world. Maybe he had something to be proud of after all. Maybe he was really at the verge of making history. Maybe it was worth the carrot or the carrot worth the effort, he thought to himself as he lowered his thumb on the detonator,his face displaying great anticipation.

“Your long miserable trek just got nastier folks!” He sarcastically muttered to himself.

Just then, a bright light shot with increasing radiance from the skyline and rapidly engulfed him. Simultaneously his thumb hit the detonator in a decisive thrust. He stared intently under him in anticipation of mêlée. There was a void click after another as he desperately pleaded with the gear for action. His instruments went wild in chaotic malfunction as attention reverted to the blinding radiance now swallowing up his jet. He managed through his left side view a glimpse of a glowing unidentified flying object spinning slightly above him. All its wheels were ablaze, flames of fire coming out like fumes around the circular object…his worst nightmare unfolding in broad day light. Its front part was made of transparent glass material that glistened. He had a clear shot at the startling figure seated behind the magnificent oval-shaped control panel arrayed with regalia white as snow, his hair white like wool, with a sparkling belt of fine gold around his waist. He sat Majestically on what seemed like a throne of gold, flaming with fire. His face was like lightning, his eyes like flaming torches…reminiscent of one before all things. Supreme. He holds all knowledge and wisdom. For no intent of heart is hidden from him, no impurity thrives in his presence. He comprehends every heartbeat of motive, with vividness unparalleled. He is no candidate for surprises. All the time! The luminary clutched at his heart, desperately struggling to breathe in accelerated panic.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his radio; the roar of thunder…like the sound of a multitude. His jet shook in unprecedented turbulence.

“Hold your horses Captain Beor!” The luminary felt his pulse come to a halt in a protracted loud screech! Followed by something close to the big bang.

“Haven’t you heard? Is it not carved on paper? Have you not known? There is no divination nor sorcery against this kindred. It’s rather personal! Her heritage echoes the core of my matchless identity! You are flying over hostile territory. Back off, while you still can…or stay the course at your peril. You are hereby required to make an emergency landing in 10-9-8-7..!”

He swallowed hard as he hurriedly grappled with the wheel with abated breath and trembling hands, his cabin still reverberating with the transmission, his knees knocking in crackling clutter. He knew a dangerous moment when he saw one.The hunter had instantaneously become the hunted! He swerved in a desperate dash for dear life.

What a day! As Alpha the Majestic swept over his treasured kindred in one more wave of comprehensive surveillance, he marveled at their innocence. No one among them had a clue what had just transpired in the thwarted massive predatory ambush. He understood it so clearly some people never learn. Like a leopard’s spot, if and once they do, they just never change, for a reason withheld most likely till next life!..when the hunger of the seven headed red dragon of ancient has been subdued. He understood the power of the handsome bait dangling before the luminary. It wouldn’t be long before he reemerged with his deadly concoction of seductive illicit elements. That would pitch the battle at a more advanced level, one whose victory would appeal to choice, personal responsibility and free will. Unlike today, his intervention then would have its boundaries. This calls for constant vigilance.

Never the less, by his decree, there would be a monument of disgrace erected in memory of the luminary. And a looming spectacle of the millstone around his neck somewhere in the sea at the appointed moment: The day of vengeance… For every innocence assaulted, spirit crushed and lie peddled; For every soul mauled, ambush staged and truth suppressed; For every wounded heart, victim stalked,and twisted fact in the craftiness of heart: Justice would be fully served…a stark caution on what awaits his adherents: The Sons of Balaam, at the end of their fatal choice road.

For the luminary, he still hoped against all odds for a way out, this with sustained zeal. After all, there are many ways to kill a cat. If he could somehow cunningly get his target to trip themselves, then he would be absolved of any responsibility on the matter, or would he?! It would keep him safe from such near death experiences as the one he had just narrowly escaped. Under the circumstances, he figured this would be the most suitable strategy. As he headed into his laboratory, it was in a bid to secure the covert formula.