Wings of Flesh: Expel Your Demons Enjoy the Flight

By Edward Nyahay

This story of the second coming of Christ is manifested in the life of ZYRA, todays hottest, most controversial rock star/actor, who lives a life even the devil himself could not predict. Now forced to decide: lose his salvation or continue his passion, Zyra, at the brink of sanity, encounters the spiritual realm within his dreams. In order for him to terminate the evil he has released, he must dive deep within his subconscious and confront his demons. What he experiences is beyond his imagination, instilling a fear no man should ever know.

Inspirational. Thriller. Horror.

May God Bless the souls who seek a better life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 19, 2003
• ISBN: 9781462816408

Edward Nyahay

Edward Nyahay was born in Yonkers, New York, in 1973 and now resides in Los Angeles with his wife, actress Jacqueline Lovell, and daughter, actress Zyla Faustina Nyahay. In addition to “Wings of Flesh” being his first novel, it was also his first feature screen-play. He is a member of the Screen Actor’s Guil since 1997, fronts a band manifesting “Zyra”, and produced his first feature, “Krush the Serpent” by Little Lost Productions. He worked many years for Writer/Director Zalman King and currently teaches film production for a local high school. EDWARD NYAHAY is an Artist at Tate Music Group. He is a classically-trained vocalist under the direction of Kelle Rhoads (Randy Rhoads' brother), Musonia School of Music, as well as, other professional vocal coaches and character development instructors. EDWARD NYAHAY'S haunted vocals, theatrics and lyrics have created a new genre of music, GOTHOLIC. Combining his Apocalyptic, Byzantine-Catholic beliefs and Gothic influence, EDWARD NYAHAY's three octave plus range allows him to rip into worlds never penetrated before until now. The Battle of Principality lives and breathes within his lyrics, vocals and music, infiltrating the celestial realm. EDWARD NYAHAY has been known to reach down into hell and pull souls out for Christ! EDWARD NYAHAY has been a member of SAG (Screen Actors Guild) since 1997, and he has written novels like WINGS OF FLESH: EXPEL YOUR DEMONS ENJOY THE FLIGHT, many feature screen-plays and shorts, and has produced over 1000 Youtube videos on line, and is the creator of many successful Youtube Channels.

Book preview

PRE-Louge

My name is Zyra. If you are one of those blessed humans who obtain wisdom by reading in between the lines, my story will entertain you. Some have told me it is amusingly scary. You can make up your own mind. Have you ever heard the expression, I have been to hell and back? Well, now it is my turn to make you dance on the fiery flames and open your mind’s eye to a place only known to the supernatural. There is light at the end of the tunnel, predestined to live forever and now my darkest, blackest desires, once my reality, has brought me to a higher spiritual level of living. Yes, money can be the root of all evil, and yes money brings positive change to others. I learned this very valuable lesson from my dear old friend, Nazareth. I call him old and I call him my friend because he is the Angel destined to guide and protect me from my own created hell. He came down upon me with the wrath of God and instantly my life was changed. To be more precise, what actually changed first was my awareness of His Presence. I still fell down in the beginning, and I am sure I will fall again. I was once told by a priest friend of mine that even Jesus fell three times.

When I was eighteen living in the mid-western corn fields.

If you are familiar with Children of the corn your mind is in the right place as far as scenery. This cold desolate Indiana climate familiarizes itself to our imagination as wind bounces off the tips of its own vegetation. These wintery months grow old and spring finally arrives leaving as with weather from the pit of hell, summer. As sweat pours down my face, determination to seek the truth will unfold before your very eyes.

I

ZYRA

It is not just another hot, sunny day in the dry climate of Bloomington Indiana. The sun is a bit brighter than normal today and the birds chirp at just the right moments, painting, no manifesting the greenery into existence. , says a deep male voice over the airwaves with a hint of country music in the background.

The rolling hills spread across the horizon in this highly educated, little town called Hanover, the south east corner of the state. Hanover College protrudes high above the tree tops, over looking three bends in the Ohio River. This practically Ivy League College is named after this small red neck town, which possesses a National Winning Division Three Football Team. The underdeveloped thinking of the townsmen is made up for by the intellect of the students. And this all comes together at the local pub, a mile off campus.

Garth Brook’s music lingers from the windows of this aged, dusty cement square. The neon sign above theentrance reads or pub. Five tired, yet youthful young men stroll in as one of them looks up and reads the sign. What the hell is or pub?. His buddy tells him to look closer at the lettering. Oh, Corn Pub. How long has the ‘c’ and ‘n’ been out?, blowing a snot rocket onto the ground. His buddy slaps off his cap, That’s gross, man!. He starts cracking up and wipes his hand off onto his ripped jeans, It’s better than swallowing it. They walk inside. The sport channels play on the two televisions above the pool tables. College students and toothless locals fill the atmosphere as the music roars through. Many drunken tones fluctuate through the air as one obnoxious singing voice, ... I got friends in low places where the Whiskey’s right and the beer chases my blues away... . One voice in particular which stands out above the rest is Zyra’s deep angry Marilyn Manson sounding tone. Next to this goth rocker, dressed in a pair of cotton shorts and weight lifting competition t-shirt is Andy, one of Zyra’s Fraternity brothers, singing his ass off, toasting a 20 ounce. Their arms are wrapped around each other forming a line of twelve drunken football players. A few locals look over and converse with each other about their high school football days in the Good Ole’ Town of Madison, the town that surrounds Hanover.

Andy slams his glass into Zyra’s, spilling the beer everywhere. They both die laughing. Andy barely gets out, This is for two a days, the two weeks of football HELL. The players grunt out loud like their in a huddle. Even though Zyra seems to stick out, some of his closest friends are here sharing this moment. Zyra has always been the type of character that took in moments well. He made himself and others live life to its fullest. A perfect example is what he is going to do right now. He stands up from the chair and walks away. Andy puts down his drink and screams out, Where you going?. Zyra turns around, smiles and presses numbers on the juke box as if he already knew what he wanted to hear. The guitar kicks in as Zyra starts to sing, Crazy, but that’s how it goes, millions of people living exposed, maybe yeah, yeah, it’s not too late, to learn how to love and forget how to hate.... Andy screams on top of his lungs, OZZY RULES. The players break up and jam out singing the rest of Crazy Train.

Some locals get disgusted and leave. A voice cries out, Zyra you always raise hell. Another player gets in Zyra’s face as he stumbles back to the group and in a drunken stupor, raises his can of Natural Light, Zyra I want to go where you go when I die. Zyra looks at him in disbelief, smiles and appreciatively responds by throwing his arm around him, Thanks, man. God Bless you. Zyra plants one on his lips freaking him out, You’re a fag. Did you see that?

Andy interjects, You said you wanted to spend eternity with him. Everybody cracks up.

Two a days, for anyone who does not know, are hell on earth for football players all around the country, the last two weeks of summer. Back in 1995, these memories were lived as a dream come true for Zyra. His foster parents needed to get him out of the house, and his coach promised to get him a scholarship if he raised his grades which he did. The darkness and twisted memories of his youth kept Zyra trapped for so many years. Now for the first time, he can explore life on his own and there is no turning back. If it was not for football, he would have taken his anger out in other ways probably putting him behind bars. Getting others to reach his own insanity is what he strove for on a daily basis by not conforming; it was never an option. Being the life of the party and driving his closest friends to the brink of sanity, yet still composed and focused, was and still is Zyra’s talent. The desire to play professional football was intense enough for the big leagues, however, his 210 lbs. soaking wet, flattened any kind of future in this field. There was one Saturday afternoon during the game between Hanover Panthers and DePaw, which made this realization become apparent.

But before we get into that, let’s look through the window of time and get a glimpse of Zyra’s life prior to this occasion which changed the direction of his life forever. He spent his first year at Hanover College drunk, stoned and passed out in front of the Sororities, after acting out many wild fantasies with mid-western women during pornographic cartoons; Life was beautiful. The fraternity he became brotherhood to was Phi-Delta Theta. Zyra always talked about how his frat brothers used to say You don’t call your country a cunt, so don’t call your fraternity a frat. You could imagine the high intelligence that charges forth from fifty beer guzzling brothers. In between the partying, he somehow found the time to lift weights and become a raging beast, breaking all the school’s records, benching 420 lbs. and squatting 750 lbs. Playing sports was his crutch to release the hidden anger built up throughout the years. It caused a lot of sorrow and pain at first because winning is all he cared about; nothing would change his philosophy. The three foot National Weight lifting competition trophy still stands tall in the wooden glass case in the foyer of the Phi-Delt Theta house.

Getting back to this one particular game that changed his life forever, all started on special teams, kick-off return. It is the position when one team kicks the ball to the other in the beginning of a game and after each touchdown. Well, Zyra was the guy on the front line who got a running start to knock the crap out of anyone he set his eyes upon. It was fun. When he was not playing kick-off return, he was starting offensive guard. If there is any position in football that allows you to be powerful and intelligent with no recognition, it is offensive guard. The sounds of bones and helmets crushing is a reoccurring experience for him. But being forced to succumb to all the wrath he dished out has once again returned to strike against him and change his destiny. The smashing of helmets, the cracking of bones, the ripping of muscles, immediately follow the whistle if you ever paid attention to the sounds produced once the ball is hiked.

Zyra lived by the motto Protect the quarter back, kill the opponent. The coach normally put the kind of guy in the front line who was willing to face death with a superior attitude. Needless to say, Zyra became very good friends with the other lineman and still is to this day. Forced to think a certain way and believe the philosophy preached is a lifestyle Zyra and Andy breathed.

The morning of this game, Andy told Zyra his name stood for Angels Never Die Young. Zyra’s response was Man, if you’re an angel of God, then I’m the angel of death. And sometimes, Zyra tried to live these words on the field. What makes a man, can break a man if his philosophy is wrong.

Anyways, the roars of the crowd filled the stadium as kick-off and kick-off return took the field. Something flew different in the cool breeze; something not right. How else to explain it but by saying it was a gut feeling. The stadium was full like always for the first game of the season. Everyone was charged and drunk as Zyra stood in the middle of the field waiting for the ref to blow his whistle. The energy was high. His blood was raging and could be seen in his gator yellow eyes. Zyra focused in on his opponent who he imagined dead in his coffin. Anticipation, gotta love it; the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado ready to strike. Zyra was poison waiting to release his wrath on the poor soul in front of him. He wanted blood, he could taste it in his mouth and would not stop until he got it. Just as the ref blew the whistle, Zyra faintly remembered hearing his coach screaming, Zyra, watch the middle guy.

Only one word echoed in his mind, Kill... kill... kill, as he locks eyes with his prey. Charging at him with a vengeance summoned from the pit of hell, Zyra is blind-sided. The last thing Zyra recalls was being lifted off the ground and smashed down head first. The helmet splitting in two felt like his skull. Instantly, the cracking down his spine rolls his eyes to the back of his head. Darkness, Zyra’s soul lost in the world familiar to him. Flash images of hisfather enter his brain like lightning. His body convulses. An image of his dead, bloody brother shatters the father’s image. Throwing Zyra into another convulsion.

The roaring of the crowd fades. Silence, as Zyra’s body lays motionless. The trainer tries to run onto the field with the assistants trailing behind with a cot. The coach stops them from entering, The whistle didn’t blow!. The running back runs towards the sidelines with the ball. Instantly, Zyra pops up to his feet and is leveled one last time by the defense. The face mask slams against his face, blood splatters from his nose as the helmet flies off in two different directions. Hitting the ground as dead weight with a force strong enough to indent the field, was the last thing he remembers before the whistle blew. His next awareness came when he woke up in a hospital bed to the sounds of his sobbing play toy. He unfortunately did not remember her name.

Lies and more lies filled his head as he lay in the hospital bed trying to convince himself he will one day play again.

Blaming his father for the aggression stored in his soul, left him in a deceitful web of lethargic dreams. He tried to force down and lock away the thoughts which would arise in his memory about his deep, dark past, where the shadows dance with his father’s wretched spirit, full of maggots. Within the half dead words that linger off his lips to his girlfriend, God knows he tried infesting my brother and I with his dark, layered, diseased soul. Anyway, you’ll hear more about that bastard later. I am not in the mood to get into it right now. She squeezes his hand as he falls back to sleep.

Time passed and Zyra healed with a year of rehabilitation, but he was never allowed to play football again. During this time, nightmares haunted him to the point of bone shattering fright, as he awoke many nights in a pool of sweat. In order to try and fill this huge gap in his life, Zyra submerged himself in his art work, drawing the most surreal, darkest images his mind could grasp. Many were convinced that his works of art were a cross between Salvador Dali, theking of surrealism, and H. R. Giger, the creator of the creatures from the movie Aliens. Searching for answers through this new world acted as a catylst to expel the demons conjured up in his life. Once he was able to express himself through melting faces, disfigured bodies, and portraits of demons, Zyra found himself continuing to indulge in mind altering drugs, the only world he felt safe in. Up until this point in Zyra’s life, he had not experimented with drugs, just alcohol. Once he got a taste of the forbidden fruit, LSD, his mind was open to receive information only known to these other dimensions. His friend Russell Vinda, was the first to introduce him to this wonderful cartoon world. Tripping became his pastime and all because of a little piece of paper no larger than the size of a pebble. Zyra’s first experience on acid was his most intense. Growing up listening to the Godfather of Heavy Metal, Ozzy Osbourne, Metallica, Van Halen, Motley Crue and all of the other heavy metal bands of the eighties, enhanced his escape from reality. But these bands mentioned were not the ones he experienced his first hit on. GWAR, medieval demon screaming freaks were playing in Indianapolis at the time when Russell and Zyra drove two and a half hours to see what was one of the most interesting concerts he ever attended. In fact, this is the show that changed his fate.

Darkness settles over the roaring crowd, a cavity of human snakes made up of skin heads and metal heads ready to mosh. The testosterone in the air was very strong. The stench of sweat, body pressed against body, somehow left an erotic feel in the belly of the beast. Zyra on the other hand was starting to peak and if you cannot relate, just allow your mind to open and drift. The sound of an angry guitar accompanied by medieval demons, walk out on stage. The drums kick in and the crowd starts to sway. As one group, one mind watching and listening to GWAR reminded him of no picnic at the beach, except for the chick who came prancing out on stage in her spiked bikini going down on the lead singer.

Needless to say, the mosh pit went from crazy to insane. One punch to the head, followed by a bone crushing thug to the ribs as everyone started to look like oversized lizards. Russell tried to tell him it would be an experience he would never forget and he was right. After seeing an eight foot version of the pope walk out on stage and be beheaded with one swing of a battle axe, Zyra knew his calling as blood splatters from the darkness upon his body. Watching it in slow motion and through strobe lighting, made him feel a surge of evil, he has not felt since his brother died. Getting caught up in the moment and forgetting it was a stage show, Zyra goes crazy in his head, swinging and punching anyone around him. At this moment of peaking, hundreds of screaming psychotic GWAR fans backed away giving him his space. He falls to his knees crying out to Heaven, clenching his hair, and screaming from the deepest part of his soul, which arose his new destiny. He will become the most surreal, controversial rock star this world has ever seen and heard.

After the show, he told Russell what happened. Russell wanted to be part of the band. He knew Zyra was serious, Zyra, I want to go where you go when I die. Zyra shakes his head, Why does everybody keep saying that to me? He immediately responds by telling him to pick up his guitar again and they’ll jam. The cheap little acoustic Russell once owned was soon replaced by a mean ripping KV1 Jackson. He talked as much about Dave Mustang from Megadeth who created that guitar as Zyra did about Ozzy. Russell always said if there’s one guitar in the world he wants to play, Give me the KV1... . One rang in Zyra’s head for about a minute. Talking about Dave Mustang, Russell says Anyone who can hold a note like that and still play as fast as he does is one hell of a man. Dave’s KV1 Rocks. These words spontaneously combusted from Russell’s mouth after just confessing that he grew up on a farm and was ready to experience the world.

Zyra believes Russell was in his life to motivate him andredirect his anger to achieve a bright future. The next day, Zyra and Russell went to the woods to trip and jam out. After playing for about an hour, and from what he can remember, it was one of the most spiritual shocking experiences of his life. During what he did not realize was going to be his last trip with Russell, Zyra conversed with the spirit of fire. Russell had gone out to meditate on a tree branch hanging over a 120 foot drop. When they both finished their experience with the other realm, their discussion seemed a bit, how shall I put it, different. Russell stares down into the flame about to die out, Nature is so beautiful. Zyra looks up from his hypnotic stare, I couldn’t disagree with you more. I don’t know what you see. I see skulls and moaning souls buried deep within the flames. Russell looks at him disturbed, Sorry to hear that, through my eyes the colors of nature are so vibrant, I feel truly alive for the first time. And I love it. Come on Z, let’s get out of here. They both stand up and give each other a hug, Zyra whispers in his ear, Thanks for trippin with me today. Russell pushes him away laughing, Get away from me. Russell picks up his guitar and Zyra picks up his book of lyrics as they walk back to campus.

Months passed as their celebrity status grew in the local bars. Quickly becoming a popular local band, Zyra sent out demos’s all over the United States trying to get a record deal. His frustration built as the rejection letters returned. Not knowing where else to turn, he buys an OUIJA board and gets many of his peers to join in. At first this medium was just a game, but the more Zyra believed, the more everyone else believed, and not before too long, his interest in the occult grew. One evening he received a phone call from a record label in Boston. Zyra runs over and answers the phone as people party in the background. Hello, What I can’t hear you. Who do you want to speak to? It’s him. Who’s this?, Zyra quickly turns the music off and kicks everybody out of his dorm. Hi, I’m sorry, my friend was blasting the music and I couldn’t hear. The male voice overthe phone says, I think there is a market for your music. A smile brightens Zyra’s drunken face, So you liked it ha? Cool. You want to fly me out? When?. As soon as possible, like tomorrow. , he says. Zyra finishes off his bottle of beer and throws it away, Okay um... tomorrow I have class until 2pm, but I can probably catch the five twenty flight. Great, wow, thank you. Hey, witchcraft is big in Boston, right?. The voice over the phone hesitates then answers, Um, well Salem is where all the witch trials were held years ago.

Salem is where I want to be. I’ve been doing some reading on Wicca as if you couldn’t tell by my lyrics. It’s interesting stuff. Well thanks for the info., see you tomorrow. Bye. He hangs up the phone, ecstatic. He runs out to the hall and tells everyone the news. Russell looks at him with disappointment and runs off. A friend of theirs questions Zyra, What’s his problem? Zyra drops his head forgetting about Russell when he was talking to the record label, He never asked about Russell. He just wanted me to fly out. He puts his arm around Zyra, Don’t worry about it man, he’ll get over it. Zyra loses his excitement, Yeah, I guess.

II

DEZERAE

Meanwhile, across the United States to the west coast, we find ourselves in the middle of an old run down warehouse rented out to an independent production company. They are currently in the middle of filming a movie, Attack of the Killer Lady Bugz, starring Dezerae Nelson, the best B-Movie Horror/Erotic Actress in Hollywood. Lining up film after film, Dezerae has a personality unlike any other. Her unique, natural acting style makes Cameron Diaz look like a Barbie doll. Dezerae has no fears, watch her as she stops the director from shooting this scene. This whole headless, whale-human thing being eaten by my character is just a bit too weird for me. So how about I just take off my shirt for the roach scene and get that over with already. Since I can’t think about anything else because I’ve NEVER done it before. So Please can we move on. Her gut roaring scream as she finished her sentence could have moved mountains. The director walks rapidly over to Dezerae lifts and shakes his finger at her. She bites down on the tip of his finger as shock strikes his face. She sucks it like a lollipop and kisses it when she is done caressing. Charlie, be a good little boy and move your crew to the nude location. She hisses at him then continues, ... because I cannot take it anymore. Do you understand me? Charlie nods his head falling prey to her whims. Good. She walks off set, grabs a handful of m&m’s as the director says under his breathe, No, you’re gonna get fat. Dezerae turns around, stares him dead in the eyes, pops the handful of candy into her mouth and chomps down exposing brown mush as she opens her mouth and wriggles her tongue around, Am I?.

Dezerae has reached a point in her career where she has become top of her Industry. She wants to pursue higher quality films. So after completing this project, she decides to go back to her agent and convince her to send her to larger production auditions. It was a Tuesday afternoon when she scheduled this appointment. She walks into to the Charisma Talent Agency in Beverly Hills, California and takes a seat as the secretary files her nails and chomps away on her gum, And you’re here to seeee... ?. Dezerae looks up at her, Excuse me, do you always file your nails and chew gum like a cow at work or are you just that absent minded? The secretary throws her hands down on the desk, You are the rudest person I have ever met. Dezerae mimics her then laughs it off. Just then, Dezerae’s agent walks in. Dezerae darling, how are you my dear?. She gives her a French welcoming by kissing her on both sides of the cheeks. Dezerae smiles and looks over at the secretary, You my dear, are one cute girl, but you need to stop chewing bubble gum ‘cause it’s allowing too much air into your head. The agent laughs as they both walk into her office.

The agent takes a seat behind her desk as Dezerae lays down on the leather couch. Movie posters with Dezerae and other working actor and actress clients cover the walls. The agent clears her throat, Please take your feet off the freshly polished leather. Dezerae sits up, Sorry. The agentcontinues, So I just got off the phone with the director of your last project, Attack of the Killer Lady Bugz... . She cuts her off, He’s an idiot. The agent takes a sip of her coffee, He may be an idiot Dezerae, but he is one of the top directors for your kind of movies. Dezerae leans in as she takes out a piece of gum, puts it into her mouth and offers one to her agent, No thank you. Dezerae tries to figure out the best way of saying what she needs to say, I’m sick of shooting B-Films. I had to do a shirtless scene the other day as this half human, half roach licks my tits. I’m done with this shit.

The agent laughs at her directness, Well, I can see nothing has changed, you still speak your mind in a very direct manner. Dezerae gets up, throws away her gum wrapper. She looks up at her movie poster, Eating Your Heart Alive, now that was an interesting film. The agent looks at Dezerae quizzically, It grossed over two million dollars Dezerae, that’s serious cash. She takes a seat on the couch again