RED RIVER OF THE SOUTH • Creative Conspiracy Writing Contest - The Mystery Of Antarctica

in #antarctica7 years ago (edited)

The hall was magnificent. It resembled more the royal court of Camelot than a cold mountain kingdom. Towering pillars of crystal ice stretched upwards where it kissed a marine blue glass ceiling. The Sun shone gloriously into the grand room. The year is 1948.


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“How do you feel Ashkii?"

“Illuminated."

”Are you ready to depart?”

“No. I want to stay.”

“This is not possible. There are matters of import Ashkii must attend to.”

“Yes. I know, but I’m not ready to leave.”

”It does not matter. The celestial bodies, presume otherwise. You must, be ready. It has been 24,000 years since the last breath of Nemesis, it shall soon be again.”

Ashkii stood there silent. Looking down at the crystal floor hands gripped sternly behind his back.

“Am I allowed to return?”

”This too, is not possible.”

Ashkii breathed in deeply and looked at the pink skinned man on the Throne of Truth, an image of a wise druid with coarse silver hair, thick beard, and purple robes.

“Perhaps, we can transmit another message?”

"We have tried many times Ashkii. Sadly, our attempts of radio communication become trifle jokes. Resulting in an unavoidable discord of comedic tragedy."

“Perhaps, I should be the one to speak on the broadcast?”

”You seem to forget past events. War. They cannot cease, so we must teach them love before inviting them below. The Senate decrees this. Hopefully, you won’t end up like the last fella, Jesus. Wow wasn't that awkward!”

”We who were once beneath Ra, now bear oath our solitary, peaceful devotion to Nemesis. Eons ago, as dense jungles were frozen over, deeper we journeyed into our planet’s tunnel system until reaching inner earth.”

”In the center, we discovered a ball of thunder and rainbow fire, emanating the colour spectrum of the Aurora Borealis. Over a thousand years our race adapted to the new world below.”


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”There have been 3 breaths since our initial arrival. We are again on the brink of another. Nemesis, has already begun to wake.”

The old man pointed out the grand window towards Nemesis, an electric fire-ball of earthly energy created by the collision of colossal planetary magnetic fields. Earth, was not just hollow, but also a fundamental fractal shape of nature. A torus field of energy swims over the surfaces of this planet.

The fields enter through the North gate and vortexes into a burning ball of warm energy. A singularity point, before exiting out the South Pole. The center of the core holds a cosmic seed. The Nemesis Sun.

Ancient scriptures were correct. Humans just interpreted them incorrectly. What we regarded as space in the texts was in reality, inner-space. A hollow earth.

The cause for the planet’s magnetic North & South poles changing position every so often was due to Nemesis constantly wobbling within the core. An energy ball suspended by the earth’s magnetic fields acting like a gyroscope.


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Every 24,000 years, Nemesis builds pressure within the earth. To release the build up, like a pressure cooker, the southern gate becomes an exhaust pipe. Electric fire is purged into space, heat also escapes. In the aftermath, the magnetic poles reverse.

Thus, the resulting chain reaction ushers in a new ice age on the planet’s surface, only to melt away slowly over half a millennia as the heat pressure builds up again within the core. The hollow earth itself is affected very little as the remaining atmosphere retreats to a stable pressure, an atmosphere retaining familiar warmth once again.

And now, the heating of the inner world also begins anew. In stark contrast to the world above.


A Week Passes


Ashkii packed little of his personal belongings. He was given a picture of his father, who first came here in 1926. Before his father left for good in 1946, he was betrothed to a high priestess, his mother. Lilith. They grew fond of each other over the years. Ashkii was born in 1930, but never knew or met his father.

The trek to the edge of the ice wall was a long one, on the shores of Palmerland a ship was prepared, Ashkii would sail to the tip of South America. There he would begin his gospel. There, he would save the world.

When he reached the barren shoreline, there was an uninvited submarine landing-crew inspecting his ship. Ashkii jogged in blind excitement towards the uniformed men.

"Greetings! This is a good day. You have come to seek us, to find peace. I can show you!" the wind was howling and snowfall heavy, a piercing visibility.

One of the men, clothed in a gray trench coat, steel helmet and machine gun was sporting a silver pin on his collar. A skull. The pistol in his hand was pointed straight at Ashkii’s chest.

“Was machst du hier? SPRECHEN!!”

Ashkii didn't understand the angry man nor the strange metal object pointed at his heart. Visual communication was probably best. He reached for his pocket, took the picture of his father and with it extended his arm towards the angry fellow. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and his chest was in excruciating pain. A second bang swiftly followed…


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He fell backward into the hard ice and stopped breathing... A crimson pool of blood was melting into the snow. The last thing he saw before darkness, was the angry man standing over his body. Ashkii was confused. Were they not comrades? The soldier had the mystical symbol of a Hindu Suastika patched onto his uniform. The sign of peace and love for his people. But it was backward?

Ashkii was shot a few more times as he lay in the red snow. The killer noticed the photo, picked it up and brought it to his wrinkled eyes. A thin smile stretched across his face. It was a portrait of a man in U.S. Navy uniform, there was a name. Admiral, Richard E. Byrd.

END



Hope you enjoyed the story. Personally, I couldn't wait until @v4vapid held another of his writing contests. Conspiracy tales are usually quite engaging, fun to write. I was lucky enough to enter last time, and received a positive reception. The greatest experience though, was how I enjoyed writing it.

Flight of the Wrong Chords

Good luck to all contestants, there are some quality articles and stories out there and looking forward to the Announcement of the Winners!

AD ASTRA


If you're interested in:

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We also Produce Seminars, last year we hosted Graham Hancock - The video of the seminar will be released later this month. It was produced on the Hindu Island of Bali, Indonesia and the subject matter was our very own 20,000 year old Pyramid complex.

Until next time, Eat a Taco and Steem On!!



Disclaimer - We do not own the pictures, most are from public archives and royalty free public wallpapers. If you own any of these works online, please let me know in the comment section below and let's have a beer together or a nice phat blunt. We would love to credit your amazing work.


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This was pretty cool. I liked the protagonist's recognition of the nazi's swastika as the hindu symbol. It speaks volumes about how people go on to distort the meaning of symbols.

If you're looking for any extra reading within the contest, here's mine: https://steemit.com/antarctica/@jordan.lesich/antarctica-writing-contest-dance-into-the-divine

Love the journal narrative you implemented. Great story man, interesting plot

Antlartica sounds cool

So does your username ;)

@pulpworx,
Now that is how to tell a story! Loved it! Good luck. I entered too, mine is a funny story though!
@Lymmerik

Just read yours, nice one was rather entertaining

Great contribution to the contest. Best of luck!

Yours too man, nice work

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Good content

Nice this post