The Trigyalon Complex by R.K. Galvez (reading diary txt) 📕

The second C.O.G. Agent was more brutal. He was dead, but had been resurrected to contain this hoard. He was a caveman, a Homo erectus to be exact. He had a blood- gun which connected into his skin through a metallic cord-like vein that caused his magnetic acid blood to whip through the dust people, dissolving them, before returning back to his gun. He would never run out of ammo. Though, the silent giant would never say - telepathically or otherwise - that he hated fighting Blood-Harpies. He couldn’t see the point in killing them.

Trogger and Norkgrub were repelling mutated dust beings, as they had been ordered to do so by the C.O.G., Pettifer's own employers. They had all been in a secret chemical brotherhood; they had been twinned at the apex for some time. You might find that it was turning into a watershed moment. They had once trusted dust and they didn't speak much. They had a decomposing head in a jute bag next to them. This head was important. It was the head of the C.O.G. Freelance Agent who would help out Elaine Pettifer mutate the Earth-realm. She needed his blood for Papus, too. This C.O.G. Freelance Agent was codenamed Gumzom. He was previously known as the human Jack Slack.

Elaine was light here, like a spiritual sprite. She was able to fly and project herself anywhere. Trogger, being a zombie Homo erectus, looked at her lithe wraith form; he was aiming his blood-gun at her, when Professor Norkgrub put his seed-shooter in the way. "Here me in your mind, Troggs, I know her so don't blast her!" Trogger grunted and used some of his growth magic to grow into a giant - well over two-thousand metres at a quick guess - and crush more of these on-rushing mutated dust-creatures with his giant feet. Trogger saved them all, destroying the base even more. The creatures were thinking about not attacking Trogger. They were evolving…His shit was good for them, too….The Mutant Police were using their cosmic influence...  

5. Mix and Match 101

Elaine Pettifer committed suicide at 00.31 on 1/1/2011.

Elaine had performed an esoteric resurrection ritual while listening to Timeless music. It was a Timeless moment, a golden one, of course. Those golden years etched upon her astral state of mind. She thought she just might be an angel of some kind…She was also known by the Old Ones as the witch Shi T…During her conception, she found a memo. It was from Agent Goodnow, her future employer. It said:

Dear Shi T,

Here’s some wise words for cosy comfort…

“Of course, any one can say, “I believe,” simply to gain access. It will be up to the discerning magician to determine actual sincerity. Because Lesser Magic is everyday magic, a finely tuned sense of discrimination is essential for all accomplishment. In addition, one of the most important “commandments” of Satanism is: Satanism demands study – not worship!”  A.LV. 1972

Toodle-pip!

Agent Goodnow, Star1ChaserX 2356AD

…As she climbed out of her own womb, as a fully formed adult, she realized she looked like the girl out of Lifeforce. Her roots were still a problem which was unfortunate. She praised Papus, then Horusvictus, the corrupted sun god's idiot bastard son. She casually wiped globules of jellified cells trapped in her hair, and took a white laboratory coat to cover her naked body, which was still daubed in the blood of an old goat…

She then set about dissolving her old body with crystalline carbide dust, capturing its putrid juices into a small metallic ampoule that was able to contain vast amounts of liquid...Elaine heard ancient musk-music, the smell of mastic oil filled her bloodied nostrils. She could hear pounding drums, the Burial, the African Descent…

…The Gods of Babylon looked at her, another mix; another mystical number in her sore head. Rancid bacon also became quite a powerful smell, almost over-whelming her; it made her feel slightly nauseous, as bile formed at the back of her mouth. Elaine was dizzy, slightly euphoric but somehow encompassed in a transcendental feeling of superiority…She did not know why she had these feelings; she blamed herself in Camden, what had she got up to? Everything was still a blank…

...Later, that day, she was employed again at the C.O.G. research facility. She was destined to stay there. The U.R.S.O.M.A.D. had closed down. There was more uncertainty than before, but she always had an idea it would keep coming back. An agency called Goodmann and Goodnow had started taking a lot of C.O.G. contracts. Maybe they were privatizing from the inside out... Something was happening....

That was when Hubbard appeared...

6. Acid Reflux Motherhood, including Back to Those Bulbous Roots…

…Elaine was at trendy “pub-bar” in Camden. This “pub-bar” did not like to make the pizza, as it had no kitchen. Kitchens were definitely not cool in this part of Camden. You had to phone the number yourself on your mobile phone from the table. It was that trendy, they just didn’t give a shit. And it was a bit of post-work drinky-pooing that was always going to be a bit boring. Her colleagues - Howard Overton Wendle and Hal Harrison - were peeling the labels off their trendy continental beer bottles. Each 330ml bottle had cost them five pounds. They had ate all of their over-priced bar snacks, too. They were joking about something they saw online, a curious scientific piece about performing repetitive behaviours with different results was a form of insanity. Elaine had not been following the conversation.

"What do you think, Elaine?" Hal asked her.

Elaine stared at Hal. His big Jewish nose, his greasy skin, his twinkly little eyes; was he giving her the come on?

"Great, it's all good," murmured Elaine.

Howard and Hal laughed. She slowly realized they were laughing at her.

Elaine closed her eyes, draining the last drops of her wine (At six pounds something for a large glass), dreaming of Papus' divine ejaculate in her mouth, like manna from heaven. She had a sparkling thought: She remembered what she needed her associate researchers for. Apart from going through lots of statistics about how the Earth might end, they had ignored their dull duties one day and started playing online games. It was not uncommon, it occurred in many work places all over the world.

However, the game Elaine got Hal and Howard to play was a silly amateur occultist game. It was a basic sigil system game from the 7 Hells, where you voluntarily became a basilisk soul pawn. She had played this many times and had protected her manna. Howard and Hal thought this was just a silly game for kids. They didn't realize that they were actually starting their induction as Agents for Papus. They were to help her with the imminent evo-muto virus.

Elaine laughed with them, exposing her loins to them; she let them see her wild pubis. She visually examined them both. Howard had long fair hair, which he tied in a ponytail, to cover his acne scarred face. He was obviously a bored rich kid, despite wearing the standard issue AC/DC T-shirt. He seemed to like the obscurity of hiding in the C.O.G. offices. Elaine looked at Hal again. He was somewhat pudgy like a giant Jewish baby. He smiled knowingly without knowing why he actually smiled. He was gormless.

Hal was also a bit of a waster. He had started doing various things to change his work behaviours and had been sleeping on the job a lot more. The pointless risk management of those cosily employed in non-jobs. What would his uncle Amos think? Elaine thought.

No-one was interested in Elaine's phone sex secrets and webcam high jinx. She needed to break her five year drought and get physical. Papus was helping her do this. He was controlling her libido with mystic pzi-vibrators and Elaine had the sudden urge to completely control Hal and Howard…

Elaine remembered after the office Christmas party, as they were clearing up the paper plates and plastic wine cups, when the game had drained the life out of Howard and Hal and they started to obsess about it; how fun it was to toy with them. Muck around with their feelings, their fragile immature minds! They had both looked thin, almost deceased.

Hal approached Elaine with mischief in mind. Elaine remembered that Hal had halitosis of someone who had been nil by mouth for a couple of days.

"Elaine, what's up with that game? What's it all about?" Hal whispered, looking scared.

"I don't know; it's just a little game. I think they call it Mandrake - after Mandrake the Magician. It's a game for brats, Hal."

"I've been having strange dreams, as in really strange dreams."

Elaine smiled, and using pzionik mysticism, she planted within Hal's mind the image of her sucking his small circumcised penis, slowly fingering his prostate. She licked a slither of excrement off her fingernail by accident. Hal gasped for breath, shuddering as if he had been hit by an orgasmic bullet. Without Hal seeing, Elaine spat the slither of excrement out onto her finger and probed his rectum with the aforementioned soiled finger…Hal had never experienced this much pleasure before; he did not know what was wrong with him…

"I've got to go Elaine," murmured Hal, pulling up his trousers, staggering away as if he had been shot by some kind of invisible weapon. He was sweating; he had no idea what was happening...

"Don't fight it, live it, Hal! I'm warning you! Just cum everywhere and follow me!" Elaine shouted after Hal. He probably did not hear her; he was already going into death stasis shock [Cue: D.S.S., as some scientists refer to it…]… Hal’s blood brain barrier has started boiling; he was feeling like he was in some other strange time zone...Or he had turned into a walking percolator…

…Elaine decided to use her telepathic teleportation spell and whizz them both back to the C.O.G. Offices in Tufnell Park. Howard did not realize he was no longer in the trendy bar. He seemed to be slowly decomposing. Elaine had seen this before; he would make the perfect sacrifice. He was like a thin monkey, she thought. He was really cute!

Howard approached Elaine, looking relaxed. He always wondered what Elaine was like out of work and had often fantasized, whilst masturbating, about conducting some type of clandestine office romance with her. He found Elaine extremely frumpy, but he found frumpy women easier to copulate with and eventually leave when the romance was getting domestic.

Howard thought himself a bit of a player in the Lothario vein. He was also desperate for any kind of sexual intercourse, as he had not been laid in over a year. It was slowly killing him and mutual masturbation was not doing it for him. He thought he might be bisexual. He still looked like death; he had been playing the game for over twenty-three hours.

"What's wrong with Hal?" Howard asked, trying to snug up to Elaine.

Elaine froze; she did not like unprofessional contact space what impeded that sacred 15cm barrier of good taste, unless she initiated it.

"Don't worry Howard, Hal will be back," said Elaine.

"Probably had a bit too much – you know how these geeks can’t take too much. I just want to play that damn game again, something real addictive about it," mused Howard.

"Good, I'm pleased you like it. I know the developer, so I'll let him know."

The janitor suddenly entered the office. He looked surprised to see them. It was the first time Elaine had ever noticed his existence. He was a very tall and a very fat man. He had no teeth, his name sounded like Tipp. They usually never spoke to him.

"Merry Christmas," said Elaine.

"Murree Chruss'mass," replied Tipp, doffing his cap.

Elaine thought he must be Eastern European. This Tipp character looked like a giant beetle-bear. He just needed some teeth. It gave her an idea. She would use the janitor for her plans, instead of Hal. She cursed Hal and hoped