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The Layko's Book - the other werewolf story

The Layko's Book - the other werewolf story

Lutecio Falu

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This story that will be presented to you has passed through centuries in darkness and anonymity, for having been forbidden to be told, so that it would be erased once and for all from the libraries of the world. But that's not what happened. She was forgotten for so long, that for many, she is nothing more than a legend; for others, it is nothing more than a collective hallucination, and for an incredulous minority, it is nothing more than pure mythology. But it came about because of the courage of a few accountants, whose reputation for madness haunted them for years. These were madmen, who were little by little putting together fragments of ancient texts translated into several dead languages. Fitting the truth as it really is, it was discovered that a long time ago, on this same Earth where men walk and corrupt to this day, there were fantastic beings that, incredible as it may seem, are still free out there living. between us. These beings that it is not known for sure if they arose along with the Creation, or if they came after it. However, the reports contained herein suggest that the second option is the most valid. If what you'll find here is real? Venture into reading these scrolls and find out! Lutecio Falu

Chapter 1 THE MISSION OF LAYKOS

It was the fourteenth day of the fifth month of the eight hundred and ninety-ninth year after Christ and I, Ibrahim Saqqaf, was among the exiles sentenced to be beheaded in the center of Hamadan, only for the sadistic delight of the extremists who, for religious reasons, did not accept that many of their own were converted to Christianity. They were beheaded, hanged, burned alive and those who lived had their hands mutilated so that they would not touch any Christian scriptures.

As I listened to the martyrs, I was waiting for the day when my time would come to receive the physical payment of my conversion in the middle of the city squares, always remaining in prayer and also in the back of my thoughts.

For me, whose days are counted like sand in an hourglass, I have only the important revelation about Heaven and Hell. This revelation that the human being builds in his own intimacy, when no one is looking, or when we think that God is not seeing us. This is because both Heaven and Hell, as much as we study them and fill ourselves with knowledge about them, both are mere states of soul that we ourselves, through our free will, choose to walk on their roads in our day. -to-day. At all times, we are invited to make decisions. These decisions will determine where Paradise begins or where Hell begin

It is as if we are all bearers of an invisible box, where there are first-aid tools and materials. Faced with an unexpected situation, we can open it and make use of any object inside. So when someone offends us, we can lift the hammer of anger or use the balm of tolerance. Visited by slander, we can use the ax of retaliation or the gauze of self-confidence.

The decision to choose between Heaven or Hell is always up to us. I was in carnal Paradise, but with my soul heading to Hell. It was only when I converted to Christianity that I began to experience Paradise with my soul, but my life became a carnal Hell, thanks to Christ and for my happiness. Because only through our will, whose free will was given to us by God, will our inner state depend. That's why I reveal here that creating Heavens or Hells within our soul is something that no one can do for us, if not ourselves.

On a hot, windless and cloudless night, as I lay chained in my cell, waiting for the hour of my martyrdom, which was approaching faster and faster, I began to hear the voices of God like a deafening whirlwind of several hammers beating at the same time. , telling me all the time for me to reveal this truth that came and that comes to the scribe Hari Laykos, whose scrolls about all the persecution suffered by Christians he already wrote in secret, so as not to also be a victim of the same cruel fate that had sentenced me . Laykos, who even though he was not a Christian, felt the hand of God touch his so that he could write without fear, he began to write down everything that my lips were pronounced, for they were truths that before the scribes, inspired by divine light, had never before revealed.

***

And it came to pass in the nine hundredth year, in the ninth month, on the ninth day of the month, that when I was Hari Laykos, in the midst of the scribes of King Ahamd I, I saw a flash in the prison heavens, possible only to my eyes, where were the traitors of Allah who claimed to be converts to Christianity. I saw the heavens open, and I saw visions of the light of God, coming down to one of the prisoners named Ibraim.

I warned the other scribes about the light that opened in the sky above the prison and they all said that I was crazy from writing so much about the king. Curious about it all, I ran to the prison where the prisoners who betrayed Allah were and came across blind Ibraim, enlightened by God and speaking in strange tongues. In a strange way, as if something was speaking inside me, I felt that I should approach. As soon as I got close to the cell where he was being held and even without seeing me, Ibraim knew I was there, because his face was turned towards me.

Then, as I approached, the eyes of blind Ibraim were opened and a bright light came out of them. After that, Ibraim touched my left hand and I felt a powerful force throughout my body, as if I were an empty jug and out of nowhere a powerful water filled me. It was then that the word of the Lord came expressly to Ibraim, son of Samad, the chief of the guard of King Ahamnd in the land of the Persians, converted to Christianity after hearing the Gospel of Christ, blind and imprisoned by his own father as a sign of shame for not accept Allah as your only god. And Ibrahim said:

"Just as the world needs revealed truths as a man's knife needs a whetstone, if he wants to eat and stay alive, God, at that moment, gave him the power to write with both hands, for when you do not want to write with one, you will write with the other, the revelations that are heard and shown to them, without ever getting tired".

With quill and papyrus in hand, for I always carry them with me, the words revealed to him were written by me, Hari Laykos, as if upon my hands were the Lord's hands. I began to write about what Ibraim related, about mystical creatures that lived and still live among us, and they keep themselves hidden among men, in order not to be discovered, with some gorging themselves on flesh and blood. human. I came to visit him every day until the day of his death arrived, always writing down everything he related to me, telling the guards that they were silly reports from a man whose mind became disturbed because he was fighting inside. himself to know which of the gods should bend his knees. But behold, on the sixth day of the fifth month of the eightieth year after Christ, his sentence was given, and the blind Ibrahim Saqqaf was beheaded in the public square, so that all could see the fate that Christians would have in denying Allah, first in the lands of the East and then all over the world.

After the death of Ibrahim, I was leaving King Ahamnd's palace, when I heard an incessant noise, like that of thousands of birds flying at the same time. I looked to the side, and behold, a stormy wind was coming from the north, bringing a great cloud of dust, which covered everyone's view, withdrawing me from the midst of the Persians. The cloud lifted me off the ground and hurled me far, up Mount Damavand, into a hidden cavern filled with blank scrolls and inked quills that didn't run out. The voice of God then said:

"Ibraim was cut down by the wickedness of men, because you doubted his mission. But you, whose writing power was passed from him to his body, are here protected. You will not be hungry or thirsty and your mission is to write. He writes! Write, Laykos: write the things the world needs to tell!"

And after hearing that screaming voice, a fire began to stir in the words, as if they were taking shape. Then there was a glow all around, and in the midst of the words there was a thing, as if of an extremely white color, which came out of the midst of the fire, but which was not only made of light, for it resembled something or someone.

And out of her midst came the likeness of a being formed of pure whiteness and enveloped in fire. And this was his appearance: he had the likeness of a man, but he was four meters tall. A natural grandeur exuded from his body, mainly due to the fact that he had seventy-two wings, distributed in twelve pairs of six. In his face it was possible to see a countless number of eyes, which he needs to carry out his enormous and vast task of watching over the whole world.

The being also had a man's hands under its wings on all sides; and so all four sides of being had their faces and their wings. And as he walked towards me, I heard the sound of his wings, like the sound of a great waterfall. And when he spoke to me again, the voice of the being was similar to the voice of the Almighty, but as if he possessed the authority of an army.

The figure of the being was too incomprehensible to my eyes, my ears and especially to my understanding, making me fall to the ground. Then the being diminished in size, reaching two and a half meters and began to resemble a man, but without losing its splendor, hiding its wings, its eyes and its arms, all in a single pair. And he said to me:

"Hari Laykos, son of Samir Ahmad, you were chosen as the continuator of the mission of Ibraim, because he doubted the God of Israel and weakened. Stand up, and I'll talk to you".

Then a power I had never felt before entered me, while the being was talking to me, and he raised me to my feet, so that I could look at him and hear what he was saying to me. And he said to me again:

"Son of Persia, I will leave you here for you to write about everything that the world needs to tell, especially the nations that rebelled against the Creator. You will write without fatigue, hunger or thirst, until you tell them the story of your last days. Listen, scribe who often wondered about your faith, listen to what I tell you, but don't be afraid as many before you were: stretch out your hands and wash them with the water I pour.

Then the being stretched out its hand, and behold, a man's hand, quite gleaming, was reaching out to me". And behold, in it was a huge scroll of a shining book, as if the papyrus were made of pure silver. And he spread it out before me, and it was written inside and out; and in it were written stories that were never told by anyone. Then the being said to me:

"Son of Persia washes his hands with this water; He stretches out his hands and only stops washing himself when the water runs out".

So I stretched out my hands, and the roll of book began to pour into my hands, like water. And the being told me:

"Son of Persia wash your hands in this water that I give you".

So I started to wash not only my hands, but also my face and head, with the water that poured from the book, which had a strong smell of herbs and flowers. And the being said to me:

"Son of Persia sits down, takes a parchment, a quill and begins to write my words. Because you will not write with letters of a strange speech, nor of a difficult language, but in a universal language. Thou also will not write to many peoples of strange speech, and of difficult language, whose words they cannot read; if I told you to write to such ones, they would not read these words. But many won't want to read you, because they don't want to listen to what the world needs to tell; for some nations are unbelieving and hard-hearted.

Behold, I make your body tireless against the days, and your forehead strong against the nights. I now make your body like a diamond, so that while it is here, it will be stronger than time. So don't be afraid of your mission, because, don't be astonished at the dawn and dusk inside that cave, because here it will never be a rebellious house".

So I started to wash not only my hands, but also my face and head, with the water that poured from the book, which had a strong smell of herbs and flowers. And the being said to me:

"Son of Persia sits down, takes a parchment, a quill and begins to write my words. Because you will not write with letters of a strange speech, nor of a difficult language, but in a universal language. Thou also will not write to many peoples of strange speech, and of difficult language, whose words they cannot read; if I told you to write to such ones, they would not read these words. But many won't want to read you, because they don't want to listen to what the world needs to tell; for some nations are unbelieving and hard-hearted.

Behold, I make your body tireless against the days, and your forehead strong against the nights. I now make your body like a diamond, so that while it is here, it will be stronger than time. So don't be afraid of your mission, because, don't be astonished at the dawn and dusk inside that cave, because here it will never be a rebellious house".

And the being said to me even more:

"Son of Persia, receive in your mind and in your heart, all my words that I will say to you, and write them on the parchments, with your own hand. Come, then, sit among the parchments, take a quill and, to the nations of the world, you will write to them everything that I tell you and that comes to your mind as inspiration.

And after these words, a flash followed again, and I heard the noise of the wings of the living creatures, which touched one another, and the noise of them, and the sound of a great roar of the rough sea. So I sat down, took a parchment, a quill, and began to write bitterly, in the indignation of my Spirit; but the urge to write and the energy that surrounded me was quite strong on me".

At first, I just tested the scrolls, writing things down on everything, and I noticed that what I wrote on the scrolls appeared as images in front of me. It was there that, writing, I went to Hamadan through the scrolls. I wrote about what life was like there and I stayed there for seven days watching the images that emerged while I was writing and I felt like I was in their midst, I touched them, they felt but they didn't see me. And it came to pass, at the end of seven days, that the shining being who had led me to that cave, returned to me, saying:

"Son of Persia: I gave you as a gift, the power to write about everything you order him to write and you, from my mouth, will hear the whole story about everything that the world still needs to tell".

When I say, write: you will surely write and you do not question, nor come out of the cave and reveal to the four corners about these words before they are complete, in order to glorify your life, for just as you were chosen for this purpose, I can do wicked, that you may die in your iniquity. If I do so, your gift, the same that I poured into your hand, I will demand back up to seventy times more.

But if you receive the words, and do not convert them into letters on the scrolls, you will be considered wicked and will die in your iniquity, even if the Creator delivers your soul from such a terrifying banishment. But receiving the words, so that you write, and you begin to write, you will certainly live every day until you finish everything and many more days; because the stories are sent to you, you will write them all down and in this way you will free your soul from such a horrible burden.

And the voice of the being echoed throughout the cave, and he said to me:

'Arise, and leave the cave, and there I will speak with you".

And I arose, and went out of the cave, and as the shadows were passing away, behold, the glory of the Lord was there all along the mountain Damavand; and that immeasurable force descended from heaven on my body, causing me to fall to the ground. Then a strong light appeared in the sky and the being that before spoke to me inside the cave and gave me gifts, stood me up, and spoke to me, and said to me:

"Enter Laykos, lock yourself inside the cave and take on your mission. And as for you, O son of Persia, behold, they will put ropes under your skin, and bind you with them; you will not, therefore, leave the cave until you finish writing everything that the world needs to reveal. And I will make thy tongue cling to thy palate, and thou shalt be mute until forty years, that I need not be thy reprover any more; because you are not here to be a rebel. But when I speak to you, I will open your mind, and you will write to them everything that I inspire you, for thus says the Creator: “You want to tell the shame that my children did in creating the mystical monsters, Metatron, so tell. But whoever wants to read, let him read; for men are free and many have become unbelievers and rebels.”

And it happened that I stayed there inside the cave, two days and two nights, without feeling hungry, or thirsty, much less tired, waiting for the being, who now had a name and was called Metatron, to speak to me. I should no longer despair of waiting, nor worry about hunger or thirst, for that had all been supplied. But even so, in this new condition, there were still desires in me that I shouldn't have and I discovered that everything existed only in my mind and they were carnal worries that I shouldn't have anymore.

At the end of the third day, beginning of the third night of the beginning of my exile, I was sitting on a rock, among parchments and feathers, when my mind opened and Metatron, came over me, showing me the story where I should start. . In my mind, I looked and saw a figure like that of a man, but it wasn't a man at all. He walked up to me but started to transform. He looked like a wolf, but still retained the traits of a man, especially as he stood on two legs.

The being that was standing without saying anything, looked at me as if studying me. His gaze was terrifying and expressed pure terror. Then flames began to shoot out of his skin, taking over his fur and he began to transform into a creature of pure glowing fire. The heat and flames were so strong, they made the entire cavern burn like an oven. The being then moved away from me and walked towards the entrance of the cave, as if it were leaving. But instead, he turned around and came running quickly on all fours towards me.

Afraid, I tried to run, thinking the being was going to attack me. But he jumped up and instead entered my body and all my flesh started to burn, like I was being possessed by a demon. I saw the flames all over my body, I felt the heat, the burning, but my flesh didn't burn. But the pain caused by the heat was inevitable and at the same time, unbearable. I screamed as loud as I could, I thrashed on the floor, trying everything to lessen the pain, but nothing I did was of any use.

I stayed on the ground and a force again pulled me to my feet. The flames were fading and, along with them, the pain. But they were entering my body through my skin, staying inside me like something scorching, starting to motivate me to write, because what I thought would be just revelations turned out to be something even bigger than I imagined. Then I was suspended between heaven and earth, arms and legs as if trapped, unable to move.

The scrolls and quills began to float around me and four of the quills pointed at me, coming towards me like arrows. Their beaks began to draw a circle on my chest, as if ripping through my flesh. I felt the pain of my skin opening with the pen and after I made the circle, it also made eight arrows around it. When the feathers finished the design on the flesh of my chest, it healed, leaving the mark, whose symbol I didn't know its meaning. After I made the design, the feathers repeated them on the back and back of my hands, leaving me with four matching symbols on my flesh.

I stared at those strange drawings burning in my flesh for a while, until they began to glow. Out of nowhere a flash took over my being and it was as if my senses and my mind began to expand, taking on unimaginable proportions. I saw my life as a scribe before I was converted and I saw how people hated me. Not because I am a scribe, but because I am a holder of knowledge. It was then that it was revealed to me that knowledge and ignorance are not opposites.

Ignorance is laziness that rejects the liberating action of knowledge. However, not everything that is freed by knowledge is free from ignorance. If that were so, there would be no recognition of the history of peoples before and after struggles and glories; and the palpable world would not exist, if it did not exist the world that we cannot see but know exists. Knowledge attracts knowledge and drives out ignorance, as an apostle of Christ drives a demon out of a person's body. Ignorance attracts what is not knowledge to forge a life full of futile desires and transforms the being that is ignorant into golden garbage. Ignorance has a deep contempt for everything that is ignorant. Every human being taken by the action of ignorance has deep disgust for himself, first, and for everything that cannot be, because his life is just to have.

And when my mind expanded so that knowledge of everything around me could reach me, the pain ceased. I then felt an urge to write, as if my fingers were burning, like the fire of the monster that now inhabits me. So I took a parchment, one of the quills, closed my eyes so I could better see the truths that were being told to me and I, Hari Laykos, son of Samir Ahmad, started to write and use the words in these terms:

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