(Chapters are stored chronologically in ARCHIVES.)
The Diary of Rhea Sinclair
November 21, 1932
I have come to the day.
The Day of Knowing.
Yet Knowing is not the End.
Only the beginning.
I gather my horde around me.
I grow invincible.
I give thanks.
I give thanks for my Sister.
Eliza stronger than expected.
Eliza sweeter than imagined.
Fitting she is first.
First Handmaiden.
Hunting. Gathering. Avenging.
I await Ba-Nepthys.
One day we shall join as in elder times.
Rule as King and Queen.
Before the mortals drove us underground.
Retribution will fall upon their heads.
The reign of Man will end.
We shall stride the Earth again.
Unmolested.
To crush the Priest.
I savor the thought.
Bend him to my will.
He will bow down before me.
Then I will take him.
Discard the husk.
Like chaff at the great Granary of Thebes.
Agnostica will know my wrath.
A fitting end for him shall be.
The time and place of my choosing.
My whim. My desire.
The Nurse is problematic.
Caring and faithful and divided from me all at the same time.
She wants the boy for her own.
Perhaps such gift would insure loyalty.
I would have her remain behind.
Be my servant in this world.
If not that than nothing.
If not that than oblivion.
It shall be revealed.
I hunger for the one who remains.
At the place of my Incarnation.
The one who held me.
Covered in the blood of the infidel.
Consoled me.
Though her knowing has been erased.
The priest also dreams of her.
Supine. Mounted. Impaled.
His vexation is my joy.
I will reward her.
I will punish those who have punished her.
Pleasure it will be to do so.
I give thanks.
I pray.
I gird about myself the robe.
Woven for me by the goddess Tait.
I shall stand up and sit down.
In whatsoever place it pleaseth me to do so.
My head is like unto that of Ra.
I am gathered together like Tem.
I shall come forth.
My tongue is like that of Ptah.
My throat is like unto that of Hathor.
I remember the words of Tem.
Of my father with my mouth.
He forced the woman.
The wife of Keb.
Breaking the heads near him.
Therefore was the fear of him there.
His vengeance.
Shall be my vengeance.
©2012 j.edwardfitzgerald ~ all rights reserved
echo lake road 
As it the 4th of July….I suppose we will all be gathering our hordes together to eat good things and think good thoughts.
When I was reading your blog today I was filled with a bit of dread, a bit of anxiety, but enjoyed it all the same. T
…T, at this point in the tale, dread is the operative word…have a safe and sane 4th with your horde…cheers…