The Nafarion Executioner - A Travelers Club Adventure

By Edward D. Olsen

The Travelers Club, an ancient, revolving reincarnate society. A secret and closed society, a family of benevolent beings living among us to spread influence and intervene when necessary for the good of humanity. Their ancient enemy, The Nafarions, have cleverly captured a two indispensable leaders as new incarnations, holding them in a state of amnesia, unaware they are being held for execution. A crippling blow to the The Travelers, but more seriously, an ominous future for humanity. As they feverishly work to develop a way to kill them, time is running out because the Travelers are relentlessly searching for them. They must be found before the Nafarion executioner is ready.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359650361

Book preview

The Nafarion Executioner - A Travelers Club Adventurenafarion hole2darkend

The Nafarion Executioner  

A Travelers Club Adventure

Edward D Olsen

Copyright 2019 Edward D Olsen

All rights reserved

ISBN 978-0-359-65036-1

Forward

Have you ever looked up at the night sky and wondered what was out there?  Scientists may tell us they know the answers, but there are secrets out there, secrets unknown to them, secrets that are unknown to most of us.  There are unimagined secrets, the stuff of fantasy, fiction, and overactive imagination.  But there are also mysteries just as unknown right here on earth.  But these kind of mysteries are usually relegated to the ranks of conspiracy theories and not usually taken seriously.

For example, some believe the pyramids of Egypt are alien built, or at least alien directed.  If that were true, how would you know?  How could you prove it?  On the other hand, how could you prove it to be untrue?  Perhaps this dichotomy is intentional.  A way to keep the secrets.  In our diverse world, would we even know what an alien really is?  If they are among us, how would we recognize one?  It’s foolish to think they would be strange looking and not blend in.  You’ll never find one by looking for them.

Throughout the ages of recorded history, secret societies have existed and they are still with us today.  Some are known to us, while others, even more secretive, remain completely hidden and have done so for a very long time.  But even those that are completely hidden, they are still out there and they do have a purpose.  Sometimes the purpose of one conflicts with the purpose of another.

If you’re with me so far and at least believe what I am saying might be plausible, the next obvious question would be who belongs to these unknown, secret organizations?  Aliens?  Maybe.  If so, what do they do other than build pyramids?  Perhaps the answer lies in the fact that some of us, as cultures and nations, do well.  While others are barely past a stone aged mentality, even in this modern age.  Why is that?  Is it because of influence, or lack thereof?  Where would influence come from?  Aliens?  Perhaps….perhaps not.

Come with me on this adventure to a world where things that can’t be measured, actually do exist.  A world of secrets, where some of us, who walk among you, know of such things.

This story is written in the first person style to protect others, and myself actually.  Please don’t think it is really about me.  But do that if you wish, if you must.  I will re-tell it as I know it.  We are not alone.

Chapter 1  

My First Childhood Recollections

I don’t remember a lot before the age of four.  There are a few fleeting images in my mind of my mother tying my shoes and putting me in a car seat.  I have the same sort of recollections of my father doing the same kind of things.  But these memories are spotty and patchy.  Bits and pieces of the past.  Memories of people and places that have no time sequence of when or where, attached to them.  But my recollections solidified when I was about four years old.  From that point on I have very solid memories of most things in my life.  Memories of what happened, when, where, who was there, what I was doing.  My recall of these solid memories goes back to one exact moment in time.  That moment in time, began with a nightmare.

The dream started with me, grown up, perhaps in my forties, in the company of an attractive lady about my age.  We were walking together, one dreary afternoon, on a wide concrete sidewalk along a street lined with mostly stone fronted buildings.  The majority were old, with a few newer ones, however nothing was of recent construction.  The geographic location, I am uncertain.  But I do know it was the cold season in an unstylish, 1940’s metropolitan city.  It wasn’t bitterly cold, but our plain, utilitarian overcoats were appropriate.  Her plainly styled shoulder length blonde hair was slightly curled inward where the bottom met the collar of her overcoat.

As we walked along, I could feel the emotions as if I was there, reliving all of this somehow.  I had my hands the pockets of my overcoat, while she held an umbrella in a gloved hand.  The strap of a medium sized purse over the other arm, both of us lost in thought over the same problem.  There was something fraught with risk we had to do and it had to be done right away.  We didn’t talk about it as we walked along together.  It was better not to talk about this in public. It was better to think about it silently for now.  To work things out in our minds, then talk about it later, once inside our apartment. I could see the grayish surroundings through the falling light rain as we walked along.  There wasn’t much color in anything, just shades of gray.  The color of granite stonework.

Arriving at our destination, there were twenty or so stone steps leading up to a set of large, heavily varnished, double doors.  A wooden frame surrounded a thick bevel edged glass pane in each one.  Being the gentleman, I grasped the ornate brass door handle, pulling open the entrance door to our walk up apartment building.  It was perhaps four or five stories high, our apartment on the second floor.  Once inside the relatively small, high ceiling lobby, my companion finished folding her umbrella as I stomped a little water from my shoes on the mud carpet just inside the door. No one saw us come in.  The entrance was empty as she tied off the strap around her folded umbrella while I shook a little more water from my overcoat.  Together we walked under the plain, old looking chandelier, toward the carpeted staircase at the right most wall of the lobby.

As we climbed the staircase, we talked to one another in low voices about business. Not about the weather or some other trivial subject to simply make conversation.  No, it was about the urgent business at hand.

Arriving at our apartment door, I retrieved the key from my pocket.  I mentioned before my companion was a lady friend.  But upon opening the door to this apartment it was obvious she was much more than that.   This was certainly not an invitation to a business chat or a one night stand or anything of the sort. She belonged here in this apartment just as much as I did, and for the time being at least, this was our home.  She was my wife.  As we entered, she put her purse down on a small table near the door and told me, I think Robert was right.  You should’ve let him do this.

There were a couple of overstuffed chairs across the room by the window, with a coffee table in between.  We both took advantage of them to relax a moment after a long day.  We looked at each other without speaking.  There was no need to speak.  We knew each other well enough to know this wasn’t the time.  After a few moments she went to the kitchen to fix us something to eat.  I remained sitting there, still thinking things over but comforted by the familiar kitchen noises in the background.

I could feel the anxiety and the stress of the situation during the dream.  I was only four years old the first time this happened.  But I could recognize fear and that’s what I felt as a little kid, unwilling but still watching and enduring the events of this nightmare unfold.

Marisa, my wife, placed a tray on the coffee table, something to eat for both of us.  I don't remember what it was but it was good. Something light, something quick and easy.  Perhaps soup or sandwich. While we ate the simple dinner we talked a little.  No longer about the business at hand.  About other things.  Things partially faded from memory now, but pleasant things.  Memories of good times past.  We smiled at each other, sharing a few moments of the bond of mutual affection between us, lifting the air of fear and stress for a while. We spent a few more hours like this together, talking and reminiscing.  But then as time passed, it was time to go to work.  It was time to do what we had to do.

It was nearly dark when we stepped out onto the sidewalk together, going to the prearranged location.  I don’t remember whether we caught a street car or a taxi or whether we just walked all the way.  I only remember leaving our apartment and arriving at the place, knowing someone was expecting us.

It was some kind of an amphitheater. A place where perhaps smaller sporting events, concerts or other types of entertainment might be held.  Once inside, my impression was there was no roof.  But it was on a regular street and looked like a normal building from the front entrance, with arched stone doorways and windows where people might stand to take your ticket during an event.  The placed was closed, there was nothing going on tonight.  It actually appeared as though nothing much at all went on there anymore.  I remember as we walked in under one of the stone archways, having the feeling that at one time this place saw a lot of entertainment activities of all sort.  But now there was very little.  It had the feel of an abandoned museum. Something from another time that was still there and still respected but not used much anymore.

It was very dark now as we walked through the entrance area out into the arena, a concrete structure built as a large circle, expanding outward and upward.  It resembled in some ways a slightly scaled down bull fighting ring.  Everything was made of concrete or stone, there was no wood anywhere.  There were several decks stacked upon one another.  Each resembling a wide and walled sidewalk, where chairs or benches could be set up.  But there were none there now.  Each of these circular seating floors had a short concrete barrier, a wall, on the downhill end, perhaps about two or three feet high.  I suppose this was to prevent someone from accidentally falling onto the people below, on the next level down.  There were areas where the barrier wall was taller, where stairwells came in.

We stood in the dark waiting.  There was not enough light to see very much detail across the arena on the other side.  It was overcast that night so even the limited starlight was obscured.  We could only see with some difficulty, what was rather close to us. As we waited on one of the seating platform, my level of fear began to ratchet up. As the four year old, I was just watching and it was dark.  The darkness alone was enough for a four year old to be afraid.  But I could distinctly feel the fear inside this man as he stood waiting.  After a few moments, the fear intensified.  Something was wrong.  We were supposed to meet someone here and deliver something.  But something was wrong.  The right person was not here. Someone else was here tonight. Someone I was very much afraid of.

I heard a noise from the other side of the arena.  Marisa, standing next to me, she heard it too.  It was some distance off yet.  The sound of someone walking, trying to be very quiet, but we still heard it.  Whoever it was, they were moving very slowly.  It was dark for them too and I suppose they were being cautious.  It sounded like they might be heading our direction.  I knew we had to move.  I grasped my wife's shoulder, nudging her in the opposite direction.  She understood my silent physical contact and we walked quietly together, away from the noise, moving as fast as we could while being as silent as we could. We stopped at one of the taller concrete barriers and waited, listening.  My heart was pounding now.  It seemed we’d walked into a trap.  Now we had to find a way out.

I knew above all things that could possibly happen; at all cost, we could not let them catch us. We had something that needed to be delivered.  It was a list of names.  If we were caught with it, it was death for us.  If we didn't deliver it to the right person, it would be death for others.

As we waited, listening for a short moment, I heard other noises and realized there was more than one person out there.  We had to be very careful now, not to make any noise ourselves, not even breathe too loudly.  It was that quiet about us tonight.  Any noise at all could be easily heard if you were close enough to it.  The small noises that echoed from far off, were only faintly heard but impossible to pinpoint the location. But those sort of noises seemed to be all around us.  My only hope was they didn’t know exactly where we were.  I thought if we could get onto another level we might be able to double back around them and get away.  We listened for any faint noise that might give us better clues where they were.  We didn’t know how many or where they were, but we were being hunted in this stadium in the dark by something very smart and very dangerous.

I thought I heard foot falls across the way.  I knew we had to get off this level now, maybe go up a couple of levels where we might be in a better position to try and double back around them.  I nudged Marisa and whispered my intention in her ear.  We moved quietly away from our spot behind the wall, then found the stairs and crept up a couple of levels.  We found another wall to hide behind where we once again stopped and listened.  I could feel the terror as we listened, barely breathing, keeping very quiet.  I thought I heard footsteps across the way again, but closer now.  Then I heard the unmistakable sound of shoes on stone stair steps.  This was bad, because if I could hear them, they may have heard us.  We moved again, playing this cat and mouse game for a while longer until I realized there were too many people with too many ears to evade them much longer.

We managed to finally position ourselves near one of the exits.  But I knew they had to be watching the exits.  The minute we ran for one we’d be caught.  We had run out of options.  I knelt down on one knee along with Marisa and I took something out of my pocket.  A small metal cylinder about the size of very short pencil. A metal pill that could be pulled apart to reveal what was inside.  Watching, as the four year old,  I could feel the emotion running through me. I understood whatever was in there was more important than life itself, or at least it seemed that way to me.

I handed it over to Marisa.  I motioned toward the exit.  She understood.  With tears in her eyes, she held out her hand and accepted the metal pill.  I gazed at her for a moment, still crouched down behind the concrete barrier. I managed a quick smile and a gentle squeeze of her hand before I moved away as slowing and quietly as I could.  Then when I was some distance away, I began to run, rather noisily.

I ran up the stairs along one of the seating platforms getting closer to that other far exit.  I could hear them now in hot pursuit.  I hoped it was all of them.  I hoped every one of them heard me and were all thinking the same thing. I was making a panicked run for the exit.  I hoped they were all paying undivided attention to me, trying to chase me down in that dark place, so Marisa could quietly slip away in the confusion through an exit they were no longer watching.

Just before I reached that other exit I was quickly surrounded and tackled by five men.  They stood me up, hustled me closer to that far exit for better lighting.  With guns drawn they started feeling through my pockets.  After a thorough search, finding nothing they wanted, the one standing in front of me backed up a couple of steps and said something to me.  The voice was familiar.  It was someone I was acquainted with.  I couldn’t help thinking, what was he doing here?  He smiled triumphantly.  Those cold, steely, unfeeling eyes stared at me.  I didn't understand what he said but he pointed his gun at my chest and pulled the trigger.  I heard the blast.  A sudden electric shock bolted across my chest.  I felt the impact as the bullet tore through me, breaking a rib, tearing through my heart, then exiting out my back.

It was at that instant I bolted upright in my bed, sitting wide awake in the dark, completely confused in terror, feeling the heavy thumping of my heart while catching my breath as if I’d been running.  At first I didn’t know it was just a dream and hadn’t actually happened.  But as I felt my cold and clammy T-shirt, wet with my own sweat, I realized my chest hadn’t been injured and I was in one piece with no bullet holes.  I started to calm down.  I knew it was a dream and I was alright.

I must have awakened my father because he came down the hall to my bedroom to see what was going on.  Opening the door, he said, Ya okay there, little guy?

The light from the hall streamed into the room through the open door.  I was still sitting up in bed, but by now I’d regained most of my four year old composure.  I looked over at him as he walked toward me and I said, Yeah, I guess so.

Have a bad dream, Eddy?  He said, sympathetically as he sat down on my bed and stroked my blonde hair.

Yeah, I guess so.

Must a been a scary one, I’ll bet.

Yeah, it was.  It was real scary.

Ohhh, you poor little guy.  You shouldn’t have scary dreams like that.  Here, give me a hug.  We’ll make it all better.  Dad gave me a