Born of Hell

By John Sandycove

The story of the book is about Satan creating a nation. This took place many centuries ago and follows how the nation develops. It is a story of many destinies of many people, nations and countries seen through eyes of philosophy, moral and ethics. It is a book of drama, deep thoughts and dilemmas. The eternal strife between God and Evil. Humanity has history, history has humanity. The book is a mixture of darkness and light of hope and hopelessness like life itself. The book can shake your mind and ask you the fundamental question on what side are you on?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Mar 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665587365

John Sandycove

The author is a man who loves history and humanity. His aim with this book is to make at least one person think where we stand in the two worlds of Light and Darkness of Humanity and Selfishness. Do we do enough? Do we try to do the right things small and big on a daily basis? Where are we in the universe? For what do we stand? If the book made even one person a better person, for the author the book was a success.

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© 2021 John Sandycove. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/15/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8738-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8737-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-8736-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

THE BEGINNING

THE RISE

THE FALL

THE BREAKDOWN

THE CHOSEN ONE AND THE NEW HOPE

THE DOWNFALL

NEW HOPE

THE CONSOLIDATION

THE SETTING OF AN UNIVERSE

SPREADING DARKNESS

THE LETHARGY

THE REFORMING EVIL

THE SAVIOR OF EVIL

THE PROMISING SON OF EVIL

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THE BEGINNING

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W hen God created man, he barely knew that the Devil would tempt Adam and Eve, and even if he was aware of it, he probably suspected this was the path humanity must walk to find - or rather rediscover - the way to God. However, God surely could not have presumed that the Fallen Angel, the most handsome of all angels, would use his work to create a nation that would cause evil and anguish comparable only to those of the deepest corners of the Netherworld and the Dark Powers.

This is a book about the most infernal creation of Satan, soaked with all that is unnatural and immoral, symbolizing degradation and arrogance in their ugliest dimensions, a mirror image of its own creator. This was the most precious diamond among all of his creations, the culmination, the crescendo of his satanic genius. The mere fact that the Prince of Darkness had reached the idea to use the genetic material created by God to devise something as sinister as a whole nation deserves the admiration of the evil powers throughout the Universe.

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The Fallen chose the dark corners of Asion to implement his plan not because there were no eerie places steeped in evil power in Euron or Vespuccia, but because his self-respect did not allow him to implement his greatest plan on a medium-sized continent. He wanted to fulfil his grand idea in Asion, the Mother of Nations, the continent where God’s Messenger lived and rose from the dead, the cradle of three world religions. Everything had to be spectacular in a hellish way. Each detail had to be perfected. He had to create (and indeed created) something that would surpass all nightmares of humanity for the past millennia altogether: a creation bringing endless physical and, most of all, mental pain; evil living among people, causing unimaginable chaos and grief, a reaper of despair, a true epitome of Hell.

His first task was to look for the perfect genetic material. Evil lives in all men, but the Fallen had set himself the task of picking and refining cruelty by extracting it from the cruellest. He sought inhumanity in the most inhuman, greed and arrogance – in the greediest and most arrogant. This mission, however difficult, filled him with extasy and trepidation; it engulfed him like an ocean of evil embracing its bed, forcefully and inexorably. And so, the whole planet witnessed the greatest evil ever created in the millennial history of mankind.

The Fallen chose the thick forests of Central Asion to implement his infernal plan. He mixed Mongolians, Turks and many other nations and tribes to create his own tribe, the People from Hell. He picked gene by gene the most corrupted, the meanest of all nations, he found one by one the evilest among them. It was not difficult for him to persuade them. He tempted the greedy with gold and the perverted with human flesh. He promised a source of eternal hate to the envious and enticed the evildoers with atrocities surpassing their notions for the horrors that could be committed in a human life. His eyes sparkled with satisfaction; his heart thumped in anxious anticipation. He mixed the genes with ceaseless demonic trepidation, although he knew that, after this laborious deed, he would have to wait long years to see his creation complete: unfolding, unleashed and demonstrating its abilities. He wanted to make it such as to surprise the world and even himself.

Every time when he was supposed to see a result of his infernal deeds he was filled with impatience, overwhelmed by an insane wave of unabated joy. After each evil done, he wanted to surpass himself with the next one. To his surprise, an extremely pleasant surprise indeed, it turned out that some people were almost his equals in viciousness, treachery and wickedness. In such moments of pleasure, he lost himself in thought. He asked himself if the person was human or an evil supernatural power; if the evil sown in the soul of a mortal by him, the evilest of all, could surpass him. He often asked these questions but there always came a time when the person who was a step away from outshining him failed. Then the Fallen regained his conviction that he was the Greatest among the evil, the Elusive, the Intangible, the Beginning and the End of all evil.

With the plan to create his own people he aimed to surpass himself, but also to impress his old, unfailing, painfully intolerable enemy: God. This had never happened in spite of his countless attempts because God knew him well. But how come, one would ask. The Fallen was everything that God was not; he did all that God would not do; he reasoned in a way God would never think of, and this was his fatal flaw. Although being so much unlike him, God saw through Evil. It could not surprise him, it was predictable.

This time however the Fallen wanted to surprise him with something stupendous, the crescendo of his genius, the triumphal climax of his deed. He wanted to vanquish God, Light and everything beyond the human and the supernatural, to let the viscid, insurmountable, killing Darkness settle forever. He wanted to create a kingdom plunged in a timelessness of pain and despair for himself to rule, to be the only one bearing the crown. Him, the Prince of Darkness, the pitch-black hole, death itself.

The foundations were laid. Ogozyl Yagdurlal was a fact. The name did not matter. The important thing was that his nation was created. He had put all of his energy, all of his predatory evil mind in this creation. If he failed, the pain would only be second to the one he felt after losing the battle with Archangel Michael. He did not even want to remember his name; he hated him endlessly. But what else could be expected from the Fallen Angel? For him hatred in its purest form was like the liquids in the human body, eighty percent of its essence, while the remaining twenty percent comprised of envy, maliciousness, greed and arrogance. If he failed, his wounded pride would ruin him.

The first people from the civilized word to describe Ogozyl Yagdurlal were from the highly developed country of Qing Yang. They had yellow pigmented skin. Their kingdom, located to the east of the hellish nation, was great. The people of Qing Yang described the nation during the second threshold, a hundred years or more after their creation by the Fallen. During this period the Hunules ruled over large territories in Asion and disturbed seriously their mighty neighbours, even Xing Yang.

Ogozyl Yagdurlal were still few in number, but they could not tolerate the fact that there was a glorious tribal union in Asion. The endless, unimaginable envy programmed by their genes spoke for itself. Led by their chief Bartukhan they started an insidious war with the current rulers of the steppes using both power and treachery. The latter was an indelible part of their nature, a proof that they truly were creations of their father.

The Hunules, attacked, plundered and set on fire any settlements they happened to pass through. In consequence they were frequently attacked by Bartukhan whose forces and available warriors were not enough to prevail. Nor could the spoils satisfy the greed of the leader and the tribe. The greed in the souls of Ogozyl Yagdurlal was like an all-consuming black hole that always remained empty. They were cursed from their creation to drink water and stay thirsty, to accumulate wealth and feel poor, to want more and more, and when they got it, to feel as if they had nothing.

In time the Hunules decided to look for a better area to raid and pillage and started withdrawing to the west. The fierce opposition of Ogozyl Yagdurlal may have influenced their decision but it surely had an impact on one person, the shaman Ernak, who saw something he would never forget. His experience tipped the scales and the Hunules set their sights in another direction.

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One spring day Ernak was walking through the endless steppes collecting herbs. The sparse bushes around were in blossom and even the moss was fragrant. He had strayed from the main group of Hunules and he could not help but enjoy the cool wind, a harbinger of winter’s exit and a new beginning. Ernak was among the most respected shamans and Atilay himself trusted him without reservation. Although he was getting old, he was still able to recognize the good herbs from the bad, to banish evil spirits, to predict when the time is right to go on the march and when not.

Overwhelmed by delight with nature’s awakening, lost in thoughts about times long gone, the shaman suddenly sensed the close presence of evil, indescribable evil. He had had this feeling only when Ogozyl Yagdurlal had been nearby. He had met some of them, successfully captured by the Hunules and taken to their camp. Something in them had made him shiver, as if thousands of demons had gathered in their eyes. He had stared many demons in the eyes, but he had never seen so many in one place. This made him tremble with terror and fear, although he had very rarely sensed fear in his long and turbulent life. The mere closeness to these beings made his skin prick. They were harbingers of deep, inevitable evil. Then, at that very moment, inexplicably, he felt the same. He tried to rid himself of the sensation and had almost succeeded when someone grabbed him, lifted him in the air and threw him on the back of a galloping horse. Ernak lay motionless next to the rider. Even in his worst nightmares he had never imagined that he would be a captive of these demons. He laid face down but he knew who had taken him.

Eurasion was a huge territory spanning from the icy North, where winter temperatures plummeted to minus 40 degrees, to the lush green steppes of the South. It was inhabited by many tribes, but the Hunules were the strongest. Ernak knew them all: some were allies, other – foes of his people. He would rather be captured or kidnapped by any of these tribes for his skills or for whatever reason than by Ogozyl Yagdurlal. His worst nightmare had become reality. But why take precisely him? One thing was certain: whatever the reason, nothing good awaited him.

They took him to their camp and tied him to a big wooden stake in front of a burning fire. Next to the fire their khan, Bartukhan, sat on his throne. Meeting just one of their tribe made Ernak shiver, and now he was among hundreds. He prayed to the Heavenly Father to wake him up from this unseen nightmare or, if it were reality, to kill him in an instant. None of these happened. He dared not look in their eyes, but inevitably met their gaze – sinister, full of rage and brutality. Their cruelty did not stem from a particular reason. It was inborn and primary like the first sin. They were not people, he realized; they were hell-spawn demons.

First spoke the khan of Ogozyl Yagdurlal.

‘So, shaman, how do you feel? Welcome. Unforgettable moments await you. I am sure that you have seen and experienced a lot in your long life, but this, I promise you, will be something completely new, unique and, most of all, unforgettable,’ he uttered with a sinister smile.

Ernak had not yet comprehended his words when he looked into his eyes and was suddenly overwhelmed by sadness and grief. He felt physical pain not only in anticipation of what he was about to experience in their camp, but because of what awaited millions of people many years after his death. His prophetic abilities were triggered and they always came uninvited. The life of this tribe would be very long. The blood that they would shed would be more than the water in the deepest of rivers. The land they would cross and conquer would be vast. This sinister tribe would live long, while the Hunules would vanish after their zenith to the West.

They had not yet begun with their tortures when Ernak found himself in the throes of inexplicable agony. The mere fact that he was among them was killing him painfully.

‘Let us begin!’ summoned the khan.

The Ogozyls were basking in dark glory not only because of their cruelty on the battlefield; they were legendary with their methods of torture. But why him? If he had ever done them wrong, it was when his khan had asked him to conjure spells against them. This had been at a time when their constant raids had angered the Hunules’ ruler beyond limits. Ernak had done as he had been ordered and had cursed Ogozyl Yagdurlal with bad luck and failure when attacked.

One of the Ogozyls holding strange metal instruments approached Ernak. Then the khan uttered with a feeling of superiority, ‘Shaman, black magic and spells are our specialty. We are good at conjuring them, but we also have the ability to instantly feel when someone has conjured them against us. We find the spells of others stimulating… and they give us an appetite. It is the same as throwing a burning torch in a fire with the hope of extinguishing it. The effect is always reverse, the fire becomes even stronger. We have drunk from the source of evil, we have bathed in it, we were reared on it, while sorry shamans such as you have only seen its surface. You provoked us with your petty spells. Now we will hurt you physically and, what is more, we will wound your soul badly.’

At this moment the Ogozyl wielding the strange instruments came closer to demonstrate his hellish skills. He started with the fingers. Cutting the tips was the beginning of several precise and carefully worked-out tortures. Of course, causing pain to a single person could not give the Ogozyls much pleasure, as they wanted the whole world to suffer, but it was a mild ointment for those who always sought and caused human suffering in all of its forms.

After the torture the Ogozyls made several attempts to wake the shaman, who, meanwhile, had lost consciousness several times and at the end they succeeded. The khan approached him and narrowed his eyes. Ernak looked into them and saw something he had never encountered before and would not ever witness again, not in this life. He saw endless flames, enormous heat, but not bodily heat. It was another kind of heat that caused suffering not to the body, but to the soul. He saw millions of screams of desperation and pain. The flames did not have a base, as if borne by the air, without any material to fuel them. The mental pain they caused and the screams of desperation drove Ernak to a state where he thought he would go mad. If the ruler of Ogozyl Yagdurlal did not stop with this torture soon, he would surely loose his mind. Bartukhan did not keep his gaze on Ernak long enough to drive him insane, but in his soul, he left a nightmare that would not fade away until the end of his days; it was so strong and real. Ernak was carried to a dimension where he would not even peak, not for a moment. Hell would stay in him forever.

Having finished, the khan said, ‘Now you are free to go. If you do not convince your miserable khan to leave the lands adjacent to us, I promise to look into your eyes for longer the next time we meet.’

When the shaman returned to his people, he did all he could to convince the hesitant Atilay to head west. He told him about the physical torture, but as much as he wanted, he could not describe the gaze of Bartukhan and the infernal nightmare he was still experiencing.

After the Hunules set out to the west, the prophecy of Ernak came true. Thanks to their power and grandeur they succeeded to bring one of the oldest and greatest empires that have ever existed, the empire of Roman, to its knees. Afterwards, however, they quickly left the historical scene and disappeared as a nation.

Although the Hunules freed much space, the creatures of the Fallen needed six more thresholds to reach the power and numbers that would allow them to commence their deeds on a different level. During the 8th threshold they created their first state union, the State of Ogozyl Yagdurlal, with major city Gaziala. The beginning was set. The world realized that the creation of this country meant a huge loss of territory for Central Asion and formed a peculiar centre where global changes were bound to start.

During the 8th threshold Ogozyl Yagdurlal saw a significant population increase and reached a striking size. They were ready to shake Asion, if not the world. Their lands bordered with two seas, Azaron and Kapchan, and four big rivers: Irgizun, Yaikan, Uilin and Saray Daya. Their nature did not protect them from the atrocities they did to one another, but their main, innate goal was to hurt the world in a way that could be conceived only by their creator. It took them several thresholds to gather unseen