The Chain Saw Man III
The Chain Saw Hadth Spoken
by
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The chain saw man felt more protected from harm of any kind while hidden here in the sanctity of this land that possibly remembers him and his ancient steps taken so long past, as well as with other footprints of aborigines like him. The sleeves of his light, but worn flannel buttoned shirt were torn and badly tattered from the ‘same” neglectfulness in which Allen had long ago taken a shine to. The once tight pants were not so tight now, as he had been unable to find enough sustenance to adequately live on, save for what meager things he could manage to discover loitering in the secluded yards of neighbors, etc. Like an animal of the deep Thicket woods, Allen bent himself over the surface of the lake and plunged his whole face below the water’s surface. He drank and drank to replenish the precious moisture lost to his new body. The wet black hair now cooling off his overheated head, which caused some substantial evaporational cooling on the external surface of this man’s putrid head and skin. Again, the chain saw perched at his gruesome side. The quietness all around him, as he really wanted nothing at all to do with things beyond this isolated realm that he cherished above all things within this odd and meager, yet surreally underprivileged life. This monster of a man was not stone cold as obviously suspected, but rather was highly sensitive. Allen only refused to acknowledge this necessary, but natural attribute contained within our collective personality. During all of Allen’s life before, he had received controlled stimulus, hence Allen gave back-A controlled response.
The moist air was perfumed with the scent of wet soil and moss, and other forms of vegetation that also added to this fragile ecosystem. Allen’s soul was most certainly changing as the skin walker/shaman informed him would happen, but was all carried out under this man’s own power. Meaning he was becoming more responsible for his own mode of alterations and dissensions, but possibly for the good. Allen was now not quite so much afraid of feeling vulnerable in regards to his overall emotions that still seethed a great deal from time to time, save for those that conger up terrible termoils, as just noted. Allen equally did not wish to be vulnerable out here, because his guard is let down and he could very easily become the victim of an animal predator that is either venomous, or is a man eater-The American alligator or the crocodile.
Allen’s finding the road to a possible redemption through going back to the land of his youth, as if sifting through his life, and sitting on the couch of a therapist, and regressing back to where it all first began; When the pain first erected it’s ugly head. Allen was forever introspecting, but now more so as his sojourn had moved him only further away from the loyalty and love of the
The soggy swampland was now giving way to drier places the more Allen journeyed. There existed no properties or homes in this immediate and secluded area, so Allen finally ran the old chain saw frantically, as he had not the opportunity to really emerge his energies through this tool of a balance of peacefulness and destruction, as it is usually a form of destruction that is senseless. Of savage tenacity and brut strength, as it often supersedes the male ego. He never once “betrayed” this symbol that aided him to evolve, or to feel, as well as to express the festering, but very needful realities that jostled seemingly forever within Allen’s extremely burdened heart. This chain saw was his avid companion in which Allen could actually hold, as well as make something realistic out “NOTHING AT ALL.” ; Like that of love, warmth, and protection that he rarely received, save for that of his beloved Momma, and his Grandmaw, as well as his uncles of this same family tree. Now, Allen Shaw invests his energies in bonding once more with this old machine of long past, and of an era which this same individual loved most dearly, and in numerous ways that could be explained simply or not at all. He raises it above his head with the motor running and whirring a mighty tone that is most reflective of Hellfire and Brimstone…BRIMSTONE!!! BRIMSTONE!!!
As Allen was swirling himself around here with his mighty chain saw that first belonged to the Satanic shaman of the cult, there came a tremendously strong tempest of wind that swept speedily past this hulking being that was truly the chain saw wielding maniac. Allen ceased his combination of playing and bonding, but kept the saw running at low speed. Smoke was now passing into nothingness as Allen had finally used this old machine long enough to work out the air pockets hiding throughout it’s ancient fuel system. His demon-like eyes scanned depthfully around him as a baritone voice that was reflective of the ever festering pit of Hell was thusly speaking out to Allen. Allen’s entire senses immediately ceased and fixated only on this voice. From out of the wall of lush greenery and vines, came a deep turbid, and baritone voice, but it had not spoken in Latin, but English, as this was actually the very agony and angst of Allen. However, it had been spoken through a demonic medium, but the source was not found, nor was it seen.
The voice said briefly, but depthfully, as it spoke out the actual feelings of this strange, but wild beast of a man. ,”The plagues of man; Like an albatross around the neck, it weighs. More like a MILSTONE! WWWHHHH….A MILSTONE, BY SATAN! The weak shall rise out of my pit and feel my wrath; But will playing with a child! A mere child; A BEAUTIFUL CHILD…A CHILD…OH, MY CHILD!!” The sound of this terribly frightening voice then wavered and faltered off into complete silence, but as it had, other sounds accompanied this voice as well, as there were noises of intensified groanings and angstrous pangs, and “swirling” winds. The sounds heard by Allen were likened to painfully perceived groans. “OOOOOOHHHHHHHH…OOOOOOHHHHHHHH…UUUUUUUUUOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHUUUUUUOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Allen’s large back was literally wet with sweat as his very soul cried outward in a perfect unison-these exact same words the demonic medium had so crudely spoken without fear of rebukement. However it was all only meant for Allen to hear. But the child-WHO IS THE CHILD? Was it the child within himself that could truly never be? Only his journey would so thusly reveal what is to be known to this follower of blasphemy.
“But ‘tis the realm of blasphemy; where man can freely expose all of his angst and hateful hostilities, feelings, beliefs, etc: Hence man can actually learn to heal himself; Even in a place as this. The “sea of mediocrity” ,can man be anything he so desires to be!”
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About the Book
SEQUEL III is a fascinating continuation in the horror series of the immortal “CHAIN SAW MAN”-Allen Shaw-as it so fluently speaks of him and his intense journey of healing and submissions. These transcending sojourns take him through many phases that conjure stark realities that flourish within us all. CAROLYNE SHAW, “Allen’s Momma” ,was equally a very large integral contribution to the story’s throbbing and customary characteristics that were both emotional and powerfully gripping.
Allen’s step by step journey takes him back to the places in life where he did not receive, but on an equal foothold, he truly learned that it’s all right to be one’s predestined self-even if only inwardly. There are some fast paced scenes of a different kind of horror genre`, as the Texas F. B. I. and the medical world, had occasionally invaded-invaded the ways of the aloof chain saw wielding mad man who continued to fearfully enthrall those who hear him silently lurking—Even from beyond the grave! The truths rarely spoken of the “anti-Christ” child are most equally depicted with words of inclusion, as all of the opposites in this very same light of intellect, belief, affinity, and paradoxically.
Both of these souls desperately hoped for better days, as neither one could se the other. However the old Indian skin walker/Shaman and trickster, had carried successfully-Allen Shaw; THE CHAIN SAW MAN-through his sojourn of very human struggles and concealed fears, as battles with Satan’s only son-the Son of Parendition-as a child, before rising to power and might, the chain saw as it “cried” out by it’s own power, as my occult mysticisms were brought into description both depthfully, but briefly. The Lord cast out no one if one desires to attain the miracle of Heaven, and regardless of where one has priorly been. The CHAIN SAW MAN was certainly no exception, although he was in the eyes of incredulous humanity.
About the Author
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DYING AUTHOR “SELLS” A WISH
Dying author, LAMA MILKWEED L. AUGUSTINE, a recipient of ‘THE DREAM FOUNDATION” based in
on Sept 2nd ,at
She is a remarkably brave and learnnerd woman, as she is often called on the web, “The dying author who speaks for the world.”
Her name is also known on the “WALL OF HOPE” in
We thank you, You’re Holiness.