In the year of our Lord
Eighteen Hundred and Ninety One
This August Twenty Nineth
The Queen's Room
I am sorry to interrupt my dear friend, Julyanna's brilliant narrative of events that led up to a global confrontation between man and superman. I say man and superman, because these beings that erupted into our paltry universe were neither moral, nor patient creatures. I say superman, because this was the direction humanity was headed upon until the events I and Julyanna describe occured.
My name is Will. Short for William. My mother gladly gave birth to a kicking, child with an overly fertile imagination and a penchant for rhyming words that others considered distressing, but he considered, I, that is, considered wonderful. For without the poetry of voice and text, humanity would be no more than animals, and we would certainly be more like those hideous beasts from another world who had left their human roots behind in the past so far ago that they hadn't the slightest concepts of human decency anymore, and it showed in their physiques which were disgusting to behold.
I was born on April 23 and a friend of mine who flies a very unique vessel capable of sailing the winds of space and time, he tells me that in the future many will celebrate my death on the same day as well, much as they will another friend of mine, a man with a nasty sense of humor that always strikes terror in the hearts of politicians and laughter in the guts of the common man.
For I have much in common with Mister Twain, though not the acerbic wit and gentility that he espouses and pleases his American audiences with. We have been fast friends now for almost two decades, and even through the years I have grown apart from him with family and friends, yet we remain close and through our dear friends, Jules and Wells, we remain in contact.
There is so much I would like to tell you about, and so few words to express the depth of the emotions and feelings that are invested in them, so I shall attempt in my own small ways to discourse a path that will travel your mind to the destination I hope it will arrive.
I know a lot of you are mystified by the lack of records of my journey through life during the time of 1585 and 1592, but I shall remedy the cause of that confusion by saying that I was not missing from the partaking of my life during those years, but instead I, with many other fellow authors and creative souls, were working on paths and methods to defeat an enemy so vast in number and so ruthless of purpose that no play or movie as you modern souls watch, could ever understand.
Today I am writing this as my faithful troupe of actors practice for one of my lesser known plays. A tragedy about a couple who cannot bridge the gap between their social statices. It is a great story of love and also a symbolic story in that it shows how hopeless one can become when everything seems to weight against one's nature. I wrote it not as an embattlement upon social classes, but as an indictment against those whose nature is to stifle the souls of the innocent and to spread the vile natures of desire and selfishness.
That has been a recurring theme in my stories, and I and my fellow brothers of the Golden League Brotherhood of Light, or as the common man viewed us, the Rosicrucians, or The Order of the Rosy Cross. None of us ever then or even now deploys our name in support of any secret society or organization as the masses tend to be pessimisstic and susicious of that which they do not understand. A once great soul said "Cast not pearls before swine." This meant don't reveal higher truths to those who are not ready; it will do more harm than good.
So we have always worked in the silence and the background. I, with my poetic plays, and Mister Twain with his humor and acerbic wit, and certain others of great literary skill and nature, whom I will reveal over the course of time. For once our dear neighbor France was invaded by that scourge from the heavens, all our society members aligned immediately in purpose, not only here in our Greater England, but also in Germany, Russia, the Italias, the Chinas and other places such as the Americas.
If it was to be man against superhuman, then it had to be co-ordinated and endowed with the greatest of minds and strategists.
My part in the war is paltry compared to the blood and sacrifice of some of our members, but it is a role that had to be played and is yet in play, as you will come to understand.
So for those of you yet in mystery about my missing years of history, let it be now and hereby clearly stated that I was partaking in a war so vast and consuming that the very fate of human life on earth hinged upon my part and those close to me.
John Pirillo"Writing fuels the heart and soul!" Science Fiction, Fantasy and Adventure Tales to Take Your Breath Away!