Hengestone!: Hell on Earth

By Ron F. Collins

What happens when a scroll from the lost library of Alexandria is discovered under the Parthenon and used to open a dimensional doorway at Stonehenge? Hengestone! Hell on Earth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493188239

Ron F. Collins

Retired from United States Air Force. Lived in Europe for nine years and traveled extensively.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Ron F. Collins

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014905434

ISBN: Hardcover 978-1-4931-8824-6

Softcover 978-1-4931-8825-3

eBook 978-1-4931-8823-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 03/25/2014

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Contents

Prologue

Book 1: The Tal Ra Mun

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Book 2: The Eater Of The World

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Book 3: Hell On Earth!

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Book 4: Abrams’s Quest

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Book 5: The Valley Of The Sidians

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Book 6: The Circle Of Stones

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Book 7: War!

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Heimdaal watched the bridge in rapture as the wind sliced through his bearded face as a scythe through summer wheat. He paid very close attention for it was his duty to warn Wotan if something seemed to be moving across it. The Bifrost is the bridge that spans the distance to the mainland. He knew that this land was already considered legend because it was difficult to find. Ostguard was high in the mountains on an island in northern Europe, obscured by clouds and only seen by outsiders on very rare occasions.

Heimdaal came from an old family. The Edda told of this, and he knew that his lot would forever exist in this land, and the stories of the people here were written there, further enhancing the mythos surrounding this magnificent city at edge of the known world.

It was while he was in this state of mind that he heard a sound on the other side of the bridge. He peered in that direction and was surprised to see a huge beast, the proportions of which could only qualify it as a demon. He knew this was the worst omen that he or anyone else may ever see.

He ran to the one-eyed Wotan in his stonework castle known to all the Island of Ostguard as the Walhallen. Heimdaal spoke in a quavering snarl told him a demon was attempting to mount the Bifrost. Wotan, not knowing what Heimdaal was speaking of, told him to prepare to sound the horn. Heimdaal look at him with great dread and demurred.

Wotan was in a rage. No one had ever questioned his decisions. He grabbed Heimdaal by the neck and shoved him to the stonework floor of the castle. Heimdaal withdrew his horn from a pouch and readied it for what he hoped would never come.

Wotan was a very spirited ruler. He called to the Teutons that he had come to know as his Warriors of the Realm of Ice. He told them that they must stop the beast from crossing into Ostguard. If the beast was able to defeat them, then all would be lost… the end of everything Wotan looked down at the nearly white marble floor. He would now call first on a special one to stop the beast. If this failed, he knew that Heimdaal must sound the horn.

Wotan then turned to his wife, Frigh, and told her to document this most holy of occurrences in the Edda. She left his side and went to the chamber that held the ancient document. She opened the book and made the entry for the Norse date. Laboriously, she carried the book back to Wotan.

Wotan was not one to jump to conclusions; therefore, he had not told Heimdaal to sound the horn that would call all of his warriors to the ready. He would wait until the man from the Southern reaches went to the beast and told him what he saw. He called for the strange dark-skinned man, and he arrived within minutes after being summoned.

Odysseus came to Wotan and bowed. He asked how he may be able to help the king before his departure to his own kingdom far to the south, across great seas.

Wotan asked him to journey across the Bifrost and observe the beast and determine if it were possible to dispatch the beast from whence it came.

Odysseus, not to bring the wrath of the mighty and feared Wotan down on him, agreed as long as he was allowed to keep a log of what he found. Wotan acceded to his request, and Odysseus bowed and departed on this latest adventure.

Six and ten days later, Odysseus returned with a strange tale of a land that was only accessible by a special stone grouping. He also informed Wotan that he had dispatched the creature to hell, the place from which it came.

Wotan turned to Heimdaal and told him to store his horn. Heimdaal was greatly pleased with this. He knew that he would not be called on to start Ragnorok—the battle for the world.

Odysseus saluted Wotan and took the scroll that he created describing this adventure. He boarded his ship and set sail for his home in middle sea.

BOOK 1

The Tal Ra Mun

CHAPTER 1

"I told you to back off!" He didn’t, so I unloaded the .45 caliber automatic pistol directly into his gut. He just kept coming as if he didn’t feel a thing. He was either on some kind of drug, or he was something other than what he appeared.

I noticed he was starting to slow his pace. It was a good thing too—I didn’t have another clip, and this one was empty. He fell to his knees. His cold eyes were staring straight into mine. A chill went up my back, and he spoke, Give me the scroll, barbarian!

I don’t know who you are, pal, but I just put seven slugs into you and you’re on your knees while I’m standing here watching you die. It looks as if I have the upper hand, I stated as a matter of fact.

The man lying on the stone floor of the library had to be over seven feet tall. He was wearing dirty white linen clothing and leather sandals. As he crawled nearer to me, I could see the entrance holes in his shirt, but there was very little blood. Normally, one round from a .45 at this range would have stopped anyone. There was something very unusual about this one—very unusual indeed.

I asked him, Who are you?

I am the keeper of the knowledge of the old ones, he said.

So I guess that makes you the librarian huh? I asked.

Give me that scroll, animal! he again demanded.

I was looking around the chamber for an exit. The man, if that what he was, saw this and said, You will not leave here with the scroll. To get to the entrance, you must get past me. Then to my amazement, he got to his feet and reached for me. I struck out with the .45 and knocked his hand away.

What is so important about this scroll? There’s thousands in here, I asked.

He spoke again, No scrolls must be allowed to leave the Lost Library of Alexandria.

What! I thought as I tried to move away from him. These are the lost scrolls of Alexandria? If they were, they did indeed hold the knowledge of most ancient civilizations. The Phoenicians, the Babylonians—all the ancient sea trading cultures had to give copies of the writings they had on board, before being allowed to enter the port of Alexandria.

I asked, What are they doing in a cave under the Parthenon, and I ask you again—who are you?

I am Tal Ra Mun, he said. I am the last of the protectors.

Okay, Tal, my name is Troy, I said trying to stall for time. After I told him my name, he seemed to slow his advance. I moved slowly to his left, and then I said, If these are truly the lost scrolls of Alexandria, how did they get here?

I will tell you nothing, animal, Then he made his move. I feinted to his left, and he fell for it. I spun to the right and ran for the entrance. I took the stone steps 2 at a time.

Bring back the scroll—heathen! he screamed as he came after me.

I burst through the stone doorway into the bright sun of Greece. I stumbled and turn to check on the progress of Tal Ra Mun. I saw him fall as he came out. Good, I thought and kept running.

I was at least a hundred yards away now and didn’t hear any footfalls behind me, so I turned in his direction again. As I watched, there came a rumbling sound, and I could see dust starting to come from the entrance of the chamber. The dust was getting thick, and I could barely make out Tal Ra Mun. He was on all fours and howling into the air. He stopped and crawled back in the chamber. The dust had almost stopped and that’s when I saw the entrance collapse sealing the chamber.

The tourists visiting the Parthenon were yelling at each other. One saw me and pointed. If I got caught carrying the .45 and the scroll, I wouldn’t see the light of day for a long time. I shoved the scroll under my shirt and stuck the gun in my belt, in back.

I was lucky. As I got to the street, I realized I was out of view from the tourists. I got in the Jeep and started it. I took a couple of deep breaths and pulled away.

I arrived at the Peizon Hotel twenty minutes later. I parked the Jeep and carefully made my way to my room. It was on the second floor, and fortunately this hotel had outside entrances. I opened the door and went inside. I removed the scroll and placed it on the table. I reached back and pulled the .45 from my belt and reloaded the clip. I laid it next to the scroll.

I walked over to the counter and pulled the cork from a bottle of Metaxa. I turned it up and felt the burn as it went down. I carried the bottle over to the table and sat in a wicker chair. I took the scroll and carefully unrolled it. I placed the bottle of Metaxa on the top to keep it from rolling back (or what I thought was the top) and held the bottom with my hand.

I am an amateur archeologist and thought that I had found something that would startle the world. My hands were shaking now thinking about this artifact and the ones still inside the chamber. I wanted another hit of Metaxa, so I replaced the bottle with my .45.

What a site this must have been. Here was a man in a cheap hotel room, covered in ancient dust, looking down at a document that might be three thousand years old, and it was being held flat by a bottle of booze and a .45 automatic. I guess this wasn’t very reverent of me, but I knew I could get the job done better my way.

I examined the scroll and saw it was made of woven papyrus—the material used for thousands of years by the Egyptians for writing. The characters on the papyrus were in a language I could not identify. I did know that it was definitely not hieroglyphic, which practically ruled out this scroll having an Egyptian origin.

As I looked at it, I recalled the events that led to this point.

I was walking around the hill that supports the magnificent Parthenon and was looking for any artifact that might have gone unfound before. It was a ridiculous notion, but something seemed to be compelling me to do so. I held little hope in finding anything. How could I, when you consider that this was one of the most researched structures in the world. It was then I noticed a bush unknown to me. Its leaves were crimson red and stood out because of this. I reached down and received a nasty wound from a thorn. I applied pressure to the puncture and a droplet of blood fell away. It made a tiny crater in the soil.

I glanced down at the point of impact and saw a stone that appeared not to be natural. It was long and flat and had the look of a beam. I brushed away the debris that covered it, carefully avoiding the thorns on the crimson bush.

Now I could see that it was the first in a series of steps that led downward. Of course I followed them as this is my nature. At the bottom, which I would estimate to be about twenty feet below the surface, I stepped into a gallery.

The light was minimal, but I could make out what appeared to be long wooden shelves. On these shelves were thousands, maybe millions, of scrolls. I walked in as far as the light would allow and didn’t see any ending to this room.

I reached out and pulled one of the scrolls from a shelf. It was at this point that I heard the hideous voice of Tal Ra Mun tell me to put it back. I withdrew my weapon and said, Back off!

The monster of a man that seemed to materialize from nowhere kept coming. I thumbed back the hammer and said, "I told you to back off!"

*     *     *

I was nodding my head as I looked down at the scroll. It was hard to believe, but this happened less than forty-five minutes ago.

I took another draft from the Metaxa and set the bottle down. I went to my suitcase and withdrew a folder. I placed the scroll in the folder and then placed that in a plastic bag. That should provide the ancient papyrus enough protection for now. Tomorrow I would call Carol Remington, the only person that I knew that might be able to translate it.

I woke up breathing fast and my heart racing. I looked around and could see Tal Ra Mun standing at the foot of my bed. I reached over and picked up the .45 from the rattan night stand. I pointed it at the image and fired. The report was not heard. The adrenaline had my instincts operating at their highest level.

I heard a growling voice say, Return the scroll of Ra. Tal Ra Mun turned and walked for the door. I fired again. The door opened, and the beast left.

I sat there with my eyes wide open and sweat pouring down my face. I collected myself and thought, The police will be here any second. I got up and saw a hole in the wall and another in the door. I opened it and looked both ways. Nothing.

I closed the door and decided to wait for them. Something seemed strange to me. If Tal Ra Mun was here, why didn’t he just take the scroll?

I turned the lights on and went over to the counter and took the folder from the plastic bag. I opened the folder and could see the papyrus scroll was still there. I walked back to the wall and examined the hole. It was there all right. I looked at the hole in the door and then pushed my index finger in the opening. I opened the door and saw the exit hole. Although it was larger than the entrance, it wasn’t all that bad.

I sat on the bed and waited.

After twenty minutes, I walked out on the entrance ramp and saw nothing. I didn’t know if anyone was in the next room, but I wanted to make sure I hadn’t killed someone.

I stood in front of the door and rapped on it several times and stepped back. I saw a light in the window and heard the dead bolt being turned. The door slowly opened, and I saw a man’s head peer through the opening. He said in a decidedly southern accent, What’s goin’ on, partner? He was squinting, trying to get his eyes adjusted to the light.

I asked, Did you hear a gunshot a few minutes ago?

Who is it, Boff? a feminine voice asked.

Some guy wants to know if we heard a shot, the man at the door said.

I moved over so I could see the wall. There was a small bulge, and the paint was cracked.

No, sir, we ain’t heard no shots, the man said and started to close the door.

I said, I’m very sorry I disturbed you. It must have been a dream. Good night, Mr… . uh… Boff?

My name’s not Boff, he explained, that’s just what she calls me, as he pointed behind him with his thumb. It stands for Big Old Fat F—. Get it… Boff. He laughed and closed the door.

I stood there for a few seconds. I walked back over to the door to my room. I leaned on the rail of the walkway and looked down. I shook my head and thought, How could they have slept through that? Am I losing my mind?

I heard the same howling I had heard coming from Tal Ra Mun at the chamber. I turned and could see a figure on all fours galloping away through the bushes. Return the scroll! I heard, and I broke out in a cold sweat again.

I went back in my room and sat down on the bed. I had my head in my hands. I looked up at the hole—it was gone. I stood up and looked very closely. It was definitely not there anymore. I looked at the spot where the bullet hit the door—it was also gone.

I picked up the .45 and released the clip. Two rounds had been fired. I looked around and could not locate the shell casings. If I had fired two rounds, then the casings would be lying somewhere. Maybe I didn’t completely load the clip, or maybe I was going insane.

It was dawn, and I was glad. I had sat up all night waiting for the unknown. I taped the folder to the bottom of a drawer. I reached around to my back and pushed the .45 in my belt. I walked downstairs to use the phone.

I found the pay phone in the lobby. I inserted all the Drachma coins I had and pushed the buttons for the international operator. As soon as the electronic voice said, English push 4, I did. In a few seconds, a living person came on the line and asked, What country please? I responded with, Italy. What is the number? was the next question the operator asked, and I gave it to him.

I knew Carol was studying some ancient Roman tablets that had been found at Herculaneum. She had never mentioned to me what they were and I didn’t ask. The city was buried when Mount Vesuvius erupted. Pompeii was on the north side and Herculaneum on the south.

Someone picked up the phone, and a feminine voice said, Pronto. I said, Carol Remington.

Troy! Is that you?

Carol, it sure is good to hear your voice, I said.

Yours too, she replied. How’s things?

I can’t tell you over the phone, but you need to get here as soon as you can, I said.

Why? she asked.

I have discovered something that will make your name a household word.

Like what? she asked.

I can’t tell you over the phone!

Troy, you sound as though you’re in trouble, Carol said.

I may be, I responded, and you might be the only person that can help.

Where are you? she asked, and I said, In Greece. I can’t tell you where. Just get to Athens as soon as you can. I’ll be waiting at the airport. Do you understand?

I understand, but how will you know when I will be there? she asked.

Don’t worry, I said, I’m going to stay at the airport until you arrive. The more people around, the better.

This does sound serious, she said.

The most serious thing you ever saw, I replied.

I’m on my way. I should be there tomorrow. Bye.

Bye, I said and hung up.

I didn’t know if I could survive until then, but I was going to try. The one thing that worried me most was the night. As long as people were around, I felt fairly safe. I knew I had to go to the airport in Athens and wait in the terminal until her arrival. It was the only way.

I arrived at the Athens airport and took up residence in the international lounge. I didn’t know how long I would have to wait. I did know that Carol may be able to verify what I had in my possession.

What if after we went back to my room, the papyrus was gone? If it was, did I ever really have it? Maybe the Tal Ra Mun had taken it already. How can I be sure of anything?

I was sitting on one of the plastic chairs, and a feeling of great depression started to cloud my judgment.

Passport.

I looked up, and an officer of the Greek National Police was standing over me with his hand out. I sat there for a few seconds in unexplainable fear.

PASSPORT! he shouted.

This brought me out of it. I reached inside my shirt pocket and found nothing. In a near panic, I started to pat myself trying to locate it. I then came to realize that I must have left it in my room.

I looked up at him and held my hands out, palm up.

He reached down and grabbed my hands and twisted them behind my back. I felt as if everything was lost. I succumbed to his actions. Then I remembered that I had left my passport in the Jeep.

It’s in my car! I shouted. Come and I will get it for you. He nodded and motioned for me to go outside.

At my Jeep, I said, It’s under the seat.

The officer felt around and brought it out.

Why did you hide this?

I was afraid I would lose it.

He examined it as I stood there. He closed it with a snap and handed it to me.

You know that you must keep this with you at all times. It is the law.

I nodded and assured him I would do so. He wished me a good visit and left.

Then I heard my name over the paging speaker, Troy Talon, you have a visitor at the International Arrival Area.

CHAPTER 2

I walked back inside and went to international arrivals. Carol would be there I hoped. Maybe she could lift me from this depression. She was attractive, with her long brown hair. She was five foot nine, which is taller than average and athletic as she had to be considering what she did.

Hi, she said as I walked over to her.

I am very glad to see you, Carol, I said as I reached for her.

How’s the archeology business? she asked.

You’re not going to believe it, I answered.

Well, let’s go, she said, let me see what’s going to make me so famous.

We arrived at my hotel about thirty minutes later, and we went straight to my room. After we were inside, I walked over to the counter and picked up the bottle of Metaxa and poured it into the clear plastic cups provided by the hotel.

What’s this for? she asked. Is this some sort of celebration?

I said, No, it’s for you. You’re going to need it.

I pulled the drawer from the cabinet, and she said, That’s a little melodramatic, is it not?

Not after you see what it is, I said.

I handed the plastic envelope to her, and she pulled out the folder. She laid the papyrus down and asked me for another drink. Without looking at me, she turned it up and downed it in one gulp. She didn’t take her eyes from the papyrus. She looked at it for three or four minutes and said, If this is not a fake, then you have found something that was thought to be destroyed.

What do you think it is? I asked trying to get her to come to her own conclusions.

She said, Well, the bottom line here says it all.

What does it say? I asked with my heart in my throat.

It says, she started, be it known to all here now and in the future that this document is the property of the library of Alexandria the Capital of the World. Now and for all time.

I went over to the bed and sat down. I put my head in my hands and realized what she had said.

Of course this could be a forgery. How did you come by it? she asked.

What does it say beyond the fact it came from the city of Alexandria? I asked.

First you tell me where you got it, then I’ll tell you what it says. Deal? She asked.

I nodded my head and told her all that had happened. She sat there and listened as if I were as nuts as I felt. Finally she said, Take me to the chamber.

No way, I responded. There’s someone there guarding it. Besides, you said you would tell me what it said.

Okay, she said, but after I tell you, will you take me to the chamber?

No way, I said.

You may change your mind after I tell you what it says.

I doubt it, but please go ahead, I said.

Okay, she said, here goes.

BE IT KNOWN THAT IT IS THE WILL OF RA THAT ALL THINGS SEEN SHALL BE OF HIS MAKING. THE MASON’S WORK SHALL FOREVER HOLD THIS SECRET. THE STONE MONUMENT BUILT TO HOUSE KHUFU AFTER HIS [DISEMBODIMENT] SHALL HAVE A COSMIC CONNECTION TO ANOTHER…

That’s it, she said.

I don’t understand, I said. Khufu was known to the Greeks as Cheops. The largest of the pyramids was built to house his remains. The scroll says that it is connected another. Which one? I asked.

That’s what I was trying to tell you, Carol said. This is not all of the scroll. There’s at least one more. Now take me there so we can find out the rest, and I can see the lost libraries of Alexandria.

I guess there’s no other way, I said. You need to remember though, that I told you something is guarding the place.

"I