PROLOGUE
He faces the ornate wall mirror admiring his very own naked human body. It is perfect in every way that it can be, and is still developing towards a higher perfection. It is a vessel for pleasures beyond the unworthy... Pleasures that had been denied his kind...
He is a god... a goddess... a supreme being... risen to reign over the minions...
Their God had bestowed upon them gifts denied to the immortals. But what God denies, the Ifreet shall make his...
The wait had been long, but a perfect incarnation was made. Dwelling within a human soul is partial, but residence in a human body is total...
The room is dimly lit by the ambient street lights, which barely seep in through the vertical blinds...
He needs no human lights... His perfect vision can clearly see the subtly muscular physique of both man and woman. He had the choice and he chose both...
His emergence into the world of man had been arduous, and the wait long, but nourishment is abundant, and the rewards are immense...
They have discovered his lair... his pleasure chamber... his banqueting table...
The world is now his lair... the banquet self-replenishing... the pleasures limitless...
Perfection is within reach... A few auras away... He needs no lair... The energy-source is abundant... Their herds are crawling along streets, lit-up by a rich harvest of their auras...
He peers through the laths of vertical blinds at the street scene below, breathes-in the essences of the throngs of humanity. He is joined at the window by his ever-present shadow; his outer-half, his veil, his seeker, his guardian, and his protector...
A passer-by with a strange aura stops, and looks up at the unlit window...
Her name is Jilly... She senses his presence...
Her friend urges her to walk-on, but this Jilly human feels his presence, and keeps staring at his window, until the veil rises-up before him...
March 1991, Post Gulf-War, Operation Desert-Storm
The Grumman Phantom F-14 Tomcat started its descent, just as it entered Iraqi airspace heading north towards its first designated target of the day, at less than mach speed. The absence of any Iraqi air-defence systems, and the enforcement of no-fly zones, afforded the coalition pilots all the time in the world, to zero-in on any target at the leisurely pace of a walk in the park.
Flt. Lieutenant Joe Bonetti felt relaxed and much at-ease at the controls. He smiled and blew a kiss to a photograph of a pretty girl smiling back at him through the crack-webbed surface of her picture...
‘Soon babe, this shit nearly all over, and I’ll soon be home’ he told the face that smiled back at him.
The cease-fire and end of hostilities were announced a week before, and the coalition forces were getting ready to pull out of Iraq. The only “pro-active ops” that remained for the coalition’s Air-Forces were enforcing the no-fly zones, and some tidying-up operations.
It was the first week in March of 1991, and one week before the scheduled arrival of a group of civilian environmental scientists, contracted by the British Ministry of Defence to monitor the environment for the presence of any chemical, biological or nuclear contaminants, after many military servicemen and personnel had complained of a mysterious illness which could not be identified, and would later become known as “Gulf War Syndrome”.
The coalition’s ground forces had swept through southern Iraq with such speed, that many Iraqi military facilities had remained intact within the occupied territory, and any sites that were deemed potentially useful to the allies were left untouched. However, having now decided to withdraw from Iraq so suddenly, any such sites with potential military value to the Iraqis were systematically destroyed, or rendered unusable by the quickest means to hand.
That was the USAF pilot’s first mission on that day...
An ammunition bunker, built into the side of a rocky hill, within a converted natural cave 40 miles north-west of the Kuwaiti border. Location coordinates and site photographs were already fed into the flight’s computerised navigation systems, and the GPS was doing the rest.
All that the pilot had to do was to fly low in the direction of the target, lock-on his laser guidance system, and push the button.
His first sweep over the target was watched from the desert scrubland 3000ft below, by Jassam Bin Khalifa, his 8years-old boy Hamada, and the two salt-laden camels they rode on.
Bonetti watched the 1000lb bomb score a bull’s-eye, and a fraction of a second later the base of that rocky hillside exploded outwards, leaving a gaping hole at its centre.
With a triumphant “Yee-haw” Joe Bonetti pulled the phantom’s nose up, banked right and went after his next designated target. To Bonetti and other coalition pilots on “Demolition Detail”, that was just another target to tick-off the list, and once the weapon detonated, there was no need to hang around, wait for the dust to settle, and check-out the outcome. The 1000lb bunker-buster left nothing standing in its wake.
Jassam Bin Khalifa did not have the luxury of Mach speed to vacate the area, and the less than modest camel-power that he could muster was greatly diminished by 250kg of desert-salt plus his own weight precariously balanced atop the single hump of his dromedary, but he had the foresight to act quickly after the Phantom’s first sweep, he barked out an order to his young son, and they both swiftly sat their beasts down on the ground, alighted from their perches and hunkered down beside them, only seconds before 1000lbs of high explosives detonated a few hundred yards away, with an eardrum shattering blast.
Jassam shielded his son with his own body, while they both held-on tightly to their camels’ reigns to stop them from bolting. They did not look up until the shower of stones and debris stopped falling from the sky.
A post-blast stillness reigned upon the desert, and as the dust settled the ground travellers stood-up and looked-on with awe, when through the murk they watched, as a dark gaping hole began to appear at the base of the rocky hillside.
The Bedouin salt-seller knew what the hole was... it had been an Iraqi military bunker built within an old cave. He calculated that it may well contain a whole array of booty that he could sell for much more than the few Dinars he would gain for the salt which he and his boy had toiled for days to collect, and as soon as he gave voice to his thoughts, Hamada enthusiastically set-off to walk in the direction of the destroyed bunker.
The boy didn’t get beyond taking a first step... His father swiftly got a firm grip on the collar of his Dishdasha and roughly pulled him back.
Something was stirring within the cavernous hole...
Suddenly there was a tremendous hissing noise of gushing air that sounded like the exhalation of a mythical giant. It emanated from an inner chamber of the converted rocky cave, and forcefully belched a cloud of dust all the way out of its mouth, when a part of the damaged rear rock-wall collapsed outwards into the built-in bunker.
When all noise ceased and the dust began to settle again, an eerie silence descended all around the hillside, and even the omnipresent crickets hushed their persistent chirruping...
A shapeless dark shadow emerged out of the roof of the cavity. It first appeared like a black smoke cloud that clung to the rocky surface, but once on the surface of the rock face, it began to take a vaguely human shape. It was neither a cloud of smoke, nor an entity with any physical substance; it was a shadow cast by no obstruction of light. It paused momentarily as its small human head appeared to look up the near-vertical side of the hill, and then it swiftly crawled up towards its peak, with its elongated limbs moving with fluency of tentacles.
Jassam Bin Khalifa was frozen in position as he watched the scene. He finally overcame his terror, drew-back his precious only son to him, put a strong arm around his shoulder, and held him tightly by his side.
The little boy was alarmed by his father’s tight grip and shuddering body, but he would have been petrified had he noticed that his father had covertly unsheathed the curved dagger from his belt and held it firmly in his free hand; or worse, if he’d heard any of the prayer that his father was muttering...
‘Oh almighty Allah, keep the hands of Satan’s kin off my only boy-child. I will submit to your will and end his life by my own hand, before I let him be taken by your most accursed... I beg you oh mighty Allah to have mercy on us, and keep the attentions of the eternally damned away from us...’
Tears ran down Jassam’s weather-beaten face, cutting clear rivulets through the thick layer of dust on his cheeks, while he prayed and begged Allah for his merciful protection.
Hamada pointed at the hill and shouted excitedly ‘Look my father, look, what is that black thing crawling up the rocks?’
‘He has no interest in us so hush your mouth boy, and pray in your heart for Allah’s mercy...’ Jassam answered him in a low, quavering voice.
A large crow glided down, perched on a rocky ledge at the top of the hill, and looked below surveying the progress of the ascending patch of blackness. A few seconds later it was underneath the crow, shrinking in size, and merging with the bird’s natural shadow.
With a loud caw, the crow spread its wings, and took to the air heading south.
‘Elhamdu lillah... we’ve been spared...’ Jassam mumbled as he expelled a long held breath. He then sheathed his dagger back into his belt scabbard, released his grip on his son and ruffled his dust matted hair.
‘What was that baba..? Can we go and search in that bunker now?’
Jassam expelled his long held breath... ‘That Hamada was “Khayal el-Shaytan”, the living shadow of Satan, and I believe that he who walks in that shadow, will walk the earth once more... may Allah have mercy on all who shall feel his touch.’
‘Who baba... Who is he?’ the boy asked in a tremulous fear-laden voice, wide-open eyes, and morbid youthful curiosity.
‘You will have heard the many legends told of him my son. It is he who hungers for pain, thirsts for fear, and thrives on death. He was sired by Satan and borne by the flames. He is one of the lords and masters of the god accursed Jinn... it is El-Ifreet... Most know his name, but for a long time none have crossed his path.’
The terrified boy clutched his father’s arm and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
‘But I’ve heard stories about people seeing the Ifreet or things that he had done..!’
‘They’re only tales my son... El-Ifreet has not walked the earth for a long time. The elders tell ancient legends of him being entombed within the rocks inside a cave, and I now believe that we are looking at that very place... Many tales are told of this.’
With that, Jassam and Hamada remounted their camels, and turned in the opposite direction to the cave, having lost all interest in whatever treasures the bunker may yield.
Scratching out a meagre living by gathering and selling desert salt will never afford them any luxuries, but God’s bounty was still plentiful. They had enough milk from their two goats, more than enough dates from their palm-trees, a few eggs from their hens, and jerboa meat tasted good in a stews. Added to the few dinars from the salt he sold, Jassam Bin Khalifa gave his wife, four daughters and young Hamada a life that though humble, it was safe.
For orders and free samples, please follow this link :
For Amazon Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Ingress-Mike-Al-Amiry-ebook/dp/B00FKRQ8NG/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394186637&sr=1-5
For all ebook formats and reading devices:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/363684
He faces the ornate wall mirror admiring his very own naked human body. It is perfect in every way that it can be, and is still developing towards a higher perfection. It is a vessel for pleasures beyond the unworthy... Pleasures that had been denied his kind...
He is a god... a goddess... a supreme being... risen to reign over the minions...
Their God had bestowed upon them gifts denied to the immortals. But what God denies, the Ifreet shall make his...
The wait had been long, but a perfect incarnation was made. Dwelling within a human soul is partial, but residence in a human body is total...
The room is dimly lit by the ambient street lights, which barely seep in through the vertical blinds...
He needs no human lights... His perfect vision can clearly see the subtly muscular physique of both man and woman. He had the choice and he chose both...
His emergence into the world of man had been arduous, and the wait long, but nourishment is abundant, and the rewards are immense...
They have discovered his lair... his pleasure chamber... his banqueting table...
The world is now his lair... the banquet self-replenishing... the pleasures limitless...
Perfection is within reach... A few auras away... He needs no lair... The energy-source is abundant... Their herds are crawling along streets, lit-up by a rich harvest of their auras...
He peers through the laths of vertical blinds at the street scene below, breathes-in the essences of the throngs of humanity. He is joined at the window by his ever-present shadow; his outer-half, his veil, his seeker, his guardian, and his protector...
A passer-by with a strange aura stops, and looks up at the unlit window...
Her name is Jilly... She senses his presence...
Her friend urges her to walk-on, but this Jilly human feels his presence, and keeps staring at his window, until the veil rises-up before him...
March 1991, Post Gulf-War, Operation Desert-Storm
The Grumman Phantom F-14 Tomcat started its descent, just as it entered Iraqi airspace heading north towards its first designated target of the day, at less than mach speed. The absence of any Iraqi air-defence systems, and the enforcement of no-fly zones, afforded the coalition pilots all the time in the world, to zero-in on any target at the leisurely pace of a walk in the park.
Flt. Lieutenant Joe Bonetti felt relaxed and much at-ease at the controls. He smiled and blew a kiss to a photograph of a pretty girl smiling back at him through the crack-webbed surface of her picture...
‘Soon babe, this shit nearly all over, and I’ll soon be home’ he told the face that smiled back at him.
The cease-fire and end of hostilities were announced a week before, and the coalition forces were getting ready to pull out of Iraq. The only “pro-active ops” that remained for the coalition’s Air-Forces were enforcing the no-fly zones, and some tidying-up operations.
It was the first week in March of 1991, and one week before the scheduled arrival of a group of civilian environmental scientists, contracted by the British Ministry of Defence to monitor the environment for the presence of any chemical, biological or nuclear contaminants, after many military servicemen and personnel had complained of a mysterious illness which could not be identified, and would later become known as “Gulf War Syndrome”.
The coalition’s ground forces had swept through southern Iraq with such speed, that many Iraqi military facilities had remained intact within the occupied territory, and any sites that were deemed potentially useful to the allies were left untouched. However, having now decided to withdraw from Iraq so suddenly, any such sites with potential military value to the Iraqis were systematically destroyed, or rendered unusable by the quickest means to hand.
That was the USAF pilot’s first mission on that day...
An ammunition bunker, built into the side of a rocky hill, within a converted natural cave 40 miles north-west of the Kuwaiti border. Location coordinates and site photographs were already fed into the flight’s computerised navigation systems, and the GPS was doing the rest.
All that the pilot had to do was to fly low in the direction of the target, lock-on his laser guidance system, and push the button.
His first sweep over the target was watched from the desert scrubland 3000ft below, by Jassam Bin Khalifa, his 8years-old boy Hamada, and the two salt-laden camels they rode on.
Bonetti watched the 1000lb bomb score a bull’s-eye, and a fraction of a second later the base of that rocky hillside exploded outwards, leaving a gaping hole at its centre.
With a triumphant “Yee-haw” Joe Bonetti pulled the phantom’s nose up, banked right and went after his next designated target. To Bonetti and other coalition pilots on “Demolition Detail”, that was just another target to tick-off the list, and once the weapon detonated, there was no need to hang around, wait for the dust to settle, and check-out the outcome. The 1000lb bunker-buster left nothing standing in its wake.
Jassam Bin Khalifa did not have the luxury of Mach speed to vacate the area, and the less than modest camel-power that he could muster was greatly diminished by 250kg of desert-salt plus his own weight precariously balanced atop the single hump of his dromedary, but he had the foresight to act quickly after the Phantom’s first sweep, he barked out an order to his young son, and they both swiftly sat their beasts down on the ground, alighted from their perches and hunkered down beside them, only seconds before 1000lbs of high explosives detonated a few hundred yards away, with an eardrum shattering blast.
Jassam shielded his son with his own body, while they both held-on tightly to their camels’ reigns to stop them from bolting. They did not look up until the shower of stones and debris stopped falling from the sky.
A post-blast stillness reigned upon the desert, and as the dust settled the ground travellers stood-up and looked-on with awe, when through the murk they watched, as a dark gaping hole began to appear at the base of the rocky hillside.
The Bedouin salt-seller knew what the hole was... it had been an Iraqi military bunker built within an old cave. He calculated that it may well contain a whole array of booty that he could sell for much more than the few Dinars he would gain for the salt which he and his boy had toiled for days to collect, and as soon as he gave voice to his thoughts, Hamada enthusiastically set-off to walk in the direction of the destroyed bunker.
The boy didn’t get beyond taking a first step... His father swiftly got a firm grip on the collar of his Dishdasha and roughly pulled him back.
Something was stirring within the cavernous hole...
Suddenly there was a tremendous hissing noise of gushing air that sounded like the exhalation of a mythical giant. It emanated from an inner chamber of the converted rocky cave, and forcefully belched a cloud of dust all the way out of its mouth, when a part of the damaged rear rock-wall collapsed outwards into the built-in bunker.
When all noise ceased and the dust began to settle again, an eerie silence descended all around the hillside, and even the omnipresent crickets hushed their persistent chirruping...
A shapeless dark shadow emerged out of the roof of the cavity. It first appeared like a black smoke cloud that clung to the rocky surface, but once on the surface of the rock face, it began to take a vaguely human shape. It was neither a cloud of smoke, nor an entity with any physical substance; it was a shadow cast by no obstruction of light. It paused momentarily as its small human head appeared to look up the near-vertical side of the hill, and then it swiftly crawled up towards its peak, with its elongated limbs moving with fluency of tentacles.
Jassam Bin Khalifa was frozen in position as he watched the scene. He finally overcame his terror, drew-back his precious only son to him, put a strong arm around his shoulder, and held him tightly by his side.
The little boy was alarmed by his father’s tight grip and shuddering body, but he would have been petrified had he noticed that his father had covertly unsheathed the curved dagger from his belt and held it firmly in his free hand; or worse, if he’d heard any of the prayer that his father was muttering...
‘Oh almighty Allah, keep the hands of Satan’s kin off my only boy-child. I will submit to your will and end his life by my own hand, before I let him be taken by your most accursed... I beg you oh mighty Allah to have mercy on us, and keep the attentions of the eternally damned away from us...’
Tears ran down Jassam’s weather-beaten face, cutting clear rivulets through the thick layer of dust on his cheeks, while he prayed and begged Allah for his merciful protection.
Hamada pointed at the hill and shouted excitedly ‘Look my father, look, what is that black thing crawling up the rocks?’
‘He has no interest in us so hush your mouth boy, and pray in your heart for Allah’s mercy...’ Jassam answered him in a low, quavering voice.
A large crow glided down, perched on a rocky ledge at the top of the hill, and looked below surveying the progress of the ascending patch of blackness. A few seconds later it was underneath the crow, shrinking in size, and merging with the bird’s natural shadow.
With a loud caw, the crow spread its wings, and took to the air heading south.
‘Elhamdu lillah... we’ve been spared...’ Jassam mumbled as he expelled a long held breath. He then sheathed his dagger back into his belt scabbard, released his grip on his son and ruffled his dust matted hair.
‘What was that baba..? Can we go and search in that bunker now?’
Jassam expelled his long held breath... ‘That Hamada was “Khayal el-Shaytan”, the living shadow of Satan, and I believe that he who walks in that shadow, will walk the earth once more... may Allah have mercy on all who shall feel his touch.’
‘Who baba... Who is he?’ the boy asked in a tremulous fear-laden voice, wide-open eyes, and morbid youthful curiosity.
‘You will have heard the many legends told of him my son. It is he who hungers for pain, thirsts for fear, and thrives on death. He was sired by Satan and borne by the flames. He is one of the lords and masters of the god accursed Jinn... it is El-Ifreet... Most know his name, but for a long time none have crossed his path.’
The terrified boy clutched his father’s arm and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
‘But I’ve heard stories about people seeing the Ifreet or things that he had done..!’
‘They’re only tales my son... El-Ifreet has not walked the earth for a long time. The elders tell ancient legends of him being entombed within the rocks inside a cave, and I now believe that we are looking at that very place... Many tales are told of this.’
With that, Jassam and Hamada remounted their camels, and turned in the opposite direction to the cave, having lost all interest in whatever treasures the bunker may yield.
Scratching out a meagre living by gathering and selling desert salt will never afford them any luxuries, but God’s bounty was still plentiful. They had enough milk from their two goats, more than enough dates from their palm-trees, a few eggs from their hens, and jerboa meat tasted good in a stews. Added to the few dinars from the salt he sold, Jassam Bin Khalifa gave his wife, four daughters and young Hamada a life that though humble, it was safe.
For orders and free samples, please follow this link :
For Amazon Kindle:
http://www.amazon.com/Ingress-Mike-Al-Amiry-ebook/dp/B00FKRQ8NG/ref=sr_1_5?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1394186637&sr=1-5
For all ebook formats and reading devices:
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/363684