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Revenge REL2018- Writer

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posted on Sep, 14 2018 @ 08:18 PM
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I lie awake at night, listening to the cries coming from the other cells. I don’t know how long I’ve been here now. I have no prayer rug. I have no windows to even tell where my beautiful Mecca is. These infidels have fully engulfed my homeland, and I laying in this cell is powerless to stop it. I pray that Allah give me a merciful death, and take me tonight. My body aches, I absolutely do not wish to move. I don’t know the last time I ate and the only water I drink is from the putrid puddle beside me. I am so tired. All that I have has been taken from me. These guards are vicious. They treat me as a woman. I wish for death now. I miss my wife, I miss my family. I am so tired. Last night while the guards beat and raped me, they took my last treasure, a small wooden horse my son carved for me. I have nothing. I am nothing.
-Mahamod Eleaziha
Prisoner of War -December 1103

I miss my dad, we have not scene him since the fall of Jerusalem. The infidels invest our lands like locusts. I hate them. Mother won’t let me join the Muhajadeen, yet I am ready. She says I am too young. She doesn’t realize that I am a man. Yes I may only be 16, but I can hold a spear, and if Allah will lead me to Jerusalem. I will fight and die retaking our beloved city. I know not if father is alive or dead. All that I know is that I must fight. We can not allow these cockroaches to continue to fester in the dark. Tomorrow I will leave in the night and join the army. I will have my revenge.
-Mahomod Mahomod Eleaziha
Spring 1109

“Kathleen, take a look at this small horse. It is so cute!” Kathleen looked at her mother embarrassing her yet again. “Mom!, you are so embarrassing!” Katie gave her mom a dirty look. Ever since she had been dragged on yet another trip around the world, she just utterly hated it. It wasn’t fair. While all her friends were hanging out at the mall, or going to the pool, or having sleep overs, she was stuck all summer visiting Jerusalem. “The holy city of God!” she thought in her head. Looks like a rat invested litter box an smells like one too. The Jews look at her funny, the muslims definitely look at her. Everyone make her feel uncomfortable, and yet her mother just obsesses about seeing this or seeing that. What a waste of time. Kathleen takes the old wood horse from her moms hand. She takes a deep breath. “Ok mom, ya it is kinda cool. Is it an antique?” …… “Yes I believe so honey. Do you like it?” …..Katie eyed the little horse. I did look kind of cool. In an old kind of kid kind of way. “Yes, I think I’ll buy it and take it home.
Kathleen Toulouse
Jerusalem 1987

Kathleen looked at her grandson lying in his bed. He was so frail. The last two years of his life had almost killed him. He had battled through cancer, and he was on his last round of chemo. He looked aweful, but this was it. He would survive. “Allen, do you want some soup?” Kathleen asked sweet as can be. “Sure grandma, can you help me?” Kathleen looked at her 19 year old grandson. He was a shell of the young man that he was. He had been captain of the football team. Captain of the baseball team. He had a trophy on his drawers from every sport. He was loved and respected. Yet after enduring two years of cancer treatment, nobody came anymore. She loved her grandson, but as his friends went to school, then graduated, then left for college, she saw the sadness start to come into her grandsons life. He was alone. Only She and her daughter visited him, took care of him. It was just them three. Yet she knew Allen was a survivor. Her had beat this. This was the last round. All he needed to do was get through the next two days. “I’m a little tired now grandma, I’m going to take a nap.” “OK, allen, but I have something for you.” Kathleen handed her grandson a small trinket. “It’s a horse I found in Jerusalem a long time ago. My mom took me on this crazy adventure back in the day. She said that it was to find out roots. Did you know that we were French once Allen?” “Yes, grandma, you told me this story before. Yea it looks really cool, but I really need to sleep, can you set it on the dresser for me, and turn off the light?”
“Sure Allen, sleep tight, I’ll wake you up in an hour.” “Sure, we need to start thinking about the move back to France anyway. We’ll talk when I get up.”
Kathleen & Allen Toulouse
New Orleans- 2022

Mark sat on the couch, watching his children open presents. They still technically were allowed to celebrate Christmas. However, ever since the uprisings, the religious police had cracked down on Christians. Jews were none existent in France now, having been purged in Europe and the Middle East. There may have been some still in America and South America, his former country luckily having some pretty ardent religious nuts of the Christian variety instead of the muslims, had pretty much taken over. The rejected the One World Caliphate, and ironically had joined forces with Russia, China, and India to purge Islam. Still, Mark had been in Europe all his life. His father had immigrated as a young man, and he had spent his entire life here on the banks of the Seine in Paris. True the muslims had destroyed the Eiffel tower, erected mosques on every street, and controlled much of France. Yet at least they left him in peace. It was true, he wasn’t a muslim, yet there were many still in France that weren’t as long as he paid the secular tax, and respected the laws, they left him in peace. After all how bad could things get, all people were the same inside after all. Yes there are crazies everywhere, but really, can’t we all just get along…… He had a surprise for his daughter. He was giving her the antique horse that his father had given him long ago. He hoped Rachel would like it.
Mark Toulouse
Paris- 2060




posted on Sep, 14 2018 @ 08:19 PM
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Mahammad looked at the woman, lying on the floor of her cell. He and his men had just finished taking turns with her. She was blonde, petite, with ample breast. He and is men would keep her alive for a long time for their pleasure. She laid in the corner of the cell, half naked. She was young, her body was still firm. Long blonde hairs, and blue eyes. She could make a good slave he thought. Perhaps he would take her home for just his pleasure. The blonde slaves were always more expensive. Since blonde was such a rarity now. The Mujahedeen had conquered Europe, destroyed Russia, and were actively fighting China and India. The infidels in the Americas though were crazy. At the first start of the Fitna, the Americans had nuked the middle east. They destroyed every muslim dominated country, and the Christians in the controlled territories were in a civil war. Mecca was gone for now, and he would hate these infidels forever for what they did. However, he and his men had Northern France. They would fight the Christians and Secularists, and those cockroaches called Jews, though he thought they were pretty much gone from Europe. His father had Idolized Hitler for the systematic approach he had. What the germans failed to do though, Islam was successful in. That’s how it worked. We were one. We were united. “What is you name girl?” Mahammad asked the girl in the corner. “Rachel”, she said quietly. “Rachel, today is your lucky day. I am going to buy you. You are to come home with me, and serve my wives. You will obey. Do you understand?” Rachel realized she had no choice. She would either continue to be raped here in the prison, by all the men, or she could choose to go home with him, and simply be raped by him. Maybe his wives would take pity on her. She knew she hated them though. “Yes” She said meekly, “I will obey.”…….. “Good, I will fetch you later today. No clean yourself up, you stink of cum, and sweat.”
Mahammad Eleaziha & Rachel Toulouse
Rouen- 2075

Rachel watched her son, laying in his cradle. She hated him. She hated Mahammad. She hated being forced to marry him. She hated being his 3rd wife, which is one step above slave. She hated the other wives. She hated it all. However, she smiled, with a dark smile on her face, she would have her revenge. The poison would take some time to work. She had given them each just a little bit of Polonium. The Russians were good at something. They were knocking on the door. Only 50 KM away, and she would free. She had planned her escape for months. The wives had gone to bed not feeling well. All 30 of the children were sick. Everyone was sick except her. She acted the good nursemaid part, but they were all so weak now. All except Mahammad. She would have to kill him differently. The baby hardly moved at all now, it just laid there. “Not long now child.” She knew her “Family” would start dying soon. She needed to act. Rachel got up, went to the kitchen, and put a steak knife under her burqa. She went to Mahammad’s office with tea in hand. “Husband, I have brought you tea.” Mahammad looked up, “Ah, thank you wife, it has been stressful with the Russians, and the family sick. I must leave in the morning with these orders to give to the men.” Rachel nodded quietly. “Indeed husband, here let me massage your feet, so that you can relax.” Mahammad took his feet out of their sandals, “Ah wife, you were the best purchase in the world. I wish I could have bought 10 of you.” Rachel nodded again. “How long will you be away husband?” Rachel asked as she massaged his feet. “Maybe a year. We have training camps raising armies, thank Allah the Russians don’t know where. In two months they will be ready to fight. Then I can send younger men to lead them and I can come back home.” Rachel looked into his eyes. “You’re not so old husband, you can still rise to the occasion.” She slowly moved her hands to his crotch. Unzipping his fly, and bending down to take his manhood into her mouth. Mahammad immediately laid back, as she did so, Relaxing his body, and enjoying a good blowjob. “Ah, my wife, you were such a good pucharse.” …… “Indeed I was husband.” Rachel sliced his exposed throat open. Mahammod looked at her with surprise, blood erupting from the arteries in his throat. Gurgling out of his mouth. “Why” he managed. Rachel took off her burqa, picked up the toy horse from his desk that her father had given her on Christmas, looked him in the eye. “Because I am infidel, and I hate you.”
Mahammad Eleaziha & Rachel Toulouse
Rouen- 2085
Epilogue-
Rachel went straight to her room. Immediately putting another burqa on. She then slowly crept through the house with her bag. She took the hand gun and rifle from Mahammad’s armory, she went to his study, his bloody dead body still in the chair. She took all the papers. She knew the Russians wanted them. She would have her revenge. She would go to free Europe, then to Moscow, then to America. America was the land of the free. Ivana Trump had ruled the country for 20 years after the passing of her father. If any country would have a country in charge, she would choose that any day. She left with her bag, her guns, and her toy horse.



posted on Sep, 14 2018 @ 08:31 PM
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So a little bit of background, Raymond Toulouse conquered Jerusalem in the First crusade. I basically just wanted to have story that represented both the constant battle between Islam and Christianity, but also the battle inside for the soul, and how the past can impact your future. All the story evolves around a little toy horse, that in and of itself isn't important, however it passes between one family and another, from conqueror to conquered and back again. To me it just represents how there will never really be peace in the middle east, and it basically involves man's mean spirited nature to do atrocites on one another. Anyway, hope you enjoy. I actually enjoyed writing this one.

Camain
edit on 14-9-2018 by camain because: (no reason given)



posted on Sep, 14 2018 @ 08:47 PM
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a reply to: camain

Great tale. Enjoyed reading through your story.

Kind regards,

bally



posted on Sep, 14 2018 @ 10:43 PM
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a reply to: camain

super ! i loved the story and i loved the structure of the story.

super hot !



posted on Sep, 16 2018 @ 08:50 PM
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a reply to: lucia2389

thanks, i thought that if i could take it from past, to present, to future, we could all get a sense of where bad feelings and negativity eventually lead. At some point everyone just needs to stop, otherwise its just a viscous cycle.

camain



posted on Sep, 17 2018 @ 06:13 AM
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a reply to: camain

That was dark, and...Epic in it's scope. A little bit uncomfortable to read in places too. Great work



posted on Sep, 17 2018 @ 04:05 PM
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a reply to: SprocketUK

LOL, thats actually most of my writing to be honest. I'm a pessimist by nature. However I am a very happy drunk


Camain



posted on Sep, 20 2018 @ 05:40 AM
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I liked it.




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