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Doctor who is Trade Marked/
Licences by the BBC

The Blind Dyslexic Cliffhanger 
Saga is Unaffiliated



The house was a quaint one, reminding him of the one from several months ago where demons were abducting the villagers only to transform them into more.

Having recognized the warnings coming up on horseback, Avren knew this cottage owner could be. Anything.

“You got my letter.” the elderly male’s voice sounding matter of fact. “Took a while to convince one of the messengers to come.” the man wandering in seating himself in a chair that had seen better days. “Must know my reputation. Much like yours.” neck cracking when craning an eyeless face in Avren’s direction, plus showing off the several Rune tattoos adorning about his eyes.

What do you want?” ever on guard, hand at his musket revolver.

Surgat.” their only words.

“A demon that goes after children.” nodding. “I’ve been to the town where you got your messenger,” nodding towards his summoner. “there is no sign of one.” weapon falling upon the pale woman in dark dress.

“Banshee what do you want here!”

“She is my tormentor and guard.” the man replies, Avren finding that hard to fathom.

“I ask again, why have you called me.” Avren this time with the matter of fact tone, keeping a trained eye on his so-called protector and haunt.

“I have, the Surgat is in the town you are currently staying.” weak smile creasing his lips.

“If you are speaking about my fellow coach passenger, I already know about them.”

The Witch Ulissa.” (U-lis-ə/U-lə-shzə).


      DOCTOR WHO &                  THE RELUCTANT                   COP PART 2

She could not thank God enough prior to leaving for the call. She feared after Jahan and Oscar’s leaving, Caleb had them.

Squad car door open, turned with her back towards the passenger seat, Officer Alamo took several deep breaths keeping her face within her hands. “Why did I get up?” she asked herself. “I could have called in.” adding, waving to some random voice with one hand, shielding her eyes with another.

Making her way towards the square she saw a handful of personal from the 6th Precinct?

She made out Detective Elliot Stabler comments how the attack appears low risk, plus how she was now arriving.

Alamo was taken back by the skunk eye he shot her. When they met at last month during one Caleb’s sessions, he and his partner could not have been the friendliest. Going as far asking if Caleb or any of the band gave lessons.

Crossing the two-lane thoroughfare. “Oh mierda no!” < Oh Fuck No!> drawing the atten-tion of many as her Father’s voice exited, pausing at the crest of stone steps leading down to the small square park recognizing the outfits belonging to the Agency that was heading Security to the Peace Accord between the Karen and Gliem about two weeks. (kA-ren/glEm).

Turning, there was the very building towering near where she parked and where she saw the one Detective chatting on the phone with their Head Public Relations Officer.

It didn’t dawn on her till then that he had said. “Yates.”. Who worked for… UNIT.

United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. The organization had split into three branches back in 1989. This branch maintained its name and connection so is to coordinate Peace Efforts.

Where as the other branches such as the Unified Intelligence Taskforce continued with what UNIT was initially was commissioned for.

The last branch is more covert and Black Ops sort.

Only going under the auspices of. PLAGUE.

Dreading walking down the four long stone shallow steps, her eyes falling upon two or three UNIT personal, as ‘What the Fuck did you get me into Geoffrey!’ stormed within her mind.

Double taking, Officer Alamo was now even more confused. “What the f…” trailing off seeing Oscar vanish behind his and Oogie Boogie’s ambulance?

There at the back was of course Geoffrey and the other 6th Precinct Detective.

“…n’t help you if you don’t talk,” Geoffrey stiff jawed, arms folded rolling his eyes and head in his best to ignore the Detective. “to me or the attendant.” Officer Alamo smirking at Det. Olivia Benson’s attempts.

Craning her head when Geoffrey sprung up with the biggest smile. “Sandie!” his disgust none too hidden shifting back and forth between them both, Officer Alamo motioning for him to sit back down.

“You need to convene your friend to tell us what exactly happened,” Det. Benson giving her the same exact expression. “Otherwise we’re going to have to charge him with assault.” but unclear whether it was due to dealing with her Pain in the Ass who has chosen her as their Emergency Contact for whatever reason.

Huffing, Officer Alamo glares at Geoffrey who shirks back some. “I have told you,” craning her head towards the African Americans he’s accused of assaulting. “you can talk,” feeling like she knows one of or two. “to whoever,” but why are they dressed like Hip Hoppers? “talk to anyone if I am not around.” wishing she knew why this was all happening.

“But Sandie they will kill me for what I know.” gazing at him as if he’s out of his gourd. Detective Benson playing along, commenting how was he so certain they would not do the same to the officer.

“You would-would make that threat wouldn’t you!” Officer Alamo’s arm shooting out blocking him from going at the Detective.

“Geoffrey she’s making a sensible assumption,” Ofc. Alamo sizing up the Detective with her own side glances.

“And what is that Geoffrey, you haven’t really told me either.” Managing to ask the question before the Detective set him off.

“One minute it’s these-these robberies where holes are blown in the sides of buildings with No one remember hearing a sound,” circling her mouth with finger indicating she was still talking. “then it’s about some Superhero who’s in reality some alien from outer space.

“What is it you want? Why the hell do you keep calling me when you know you can talk to this Detective or any…” Ofc Alamo thrown off track when seeing Oscar raising his pop bottle to her when going around the side of the ambulance. “…or anyone!” Detective Benson looking over where she was but not seeing anyone.

Pulling her aside, Detective Benson felt it was best to allow both sides to simmer down, otherwise someone would be going to jail, ordering Geoffrey to either stay where he’s at or return to the rear of the ambulance.

“You need to realize in his mental state you cannot rationalize with him.” hand on her shoulder. “I know you feel with him being your fri-”

Dios mío, ¿cuándo lo conseguiréis?,” <Good God when will you all get it>


Hearing a tapping noise, a stained poker slides the latch to a steel gray mailbox, where upon a Barn Owl sized Vulture with reddish and gold streak that forms an arrow pointing to its tail hops upon the poker.

“What did you bring me?” sounding more matter a fact, closing the door, latching the box with

the hand which a single penton ring covers two fingers.

Standing in the large lamp light, a being resembling a trunkless, trunkless Pachyderm wearing a turquoise blouse, hazel cincture with twin crimson and white tassels at the bottom of each side; the blouse appeared to be sewn into the brick red skirt. The figure had no foot covering whatsoever.

Pulling spectacles from a table near the cage the figure put the odd bird into.

Unfurling the slip of paper within the tiny tube on the creature’s leg.

“AG Dealt with-shall rise again-escapee traveling to claim info on Isle member.”

“Do you think they’ll find their prey?” reading the message aloud to the bloodied and beaten figure on the standing ‘X’ Cross rack.

The figure’s arms were strapped to the upper arms, wrists were bloodied and scared; the lower arms of the ‘X’ halted a where their stomach was.

“Oh wait, you can’t answer because you’re a mute.” coming to stand by the bruised figure.

“If you had not knowingly spoken such heresy about our Arch Lop Juti (jUtI) happening to pick up an ornate Utilitarian bottle “maybe you would not have lost your tongue.” using a now four-inch three pronged fork to stab slivers of meat from the where the hot coals were, and feed the very animal that had flown him the message, the figure on the X-Cross whimpering, craning their head to-fro.

“You have moved me my friend.” the figure grasping their chin like a mother trying to help and ease. “You have done your best to answer my questions,” lying the bottle to the prisoner’s lip’s whispering in their ear to drink well. “I shall grant you your water.” no sooner than the liquid struck the prisoner’s mouth they groaned and screamed as the pure alcohol bathed the still freshly removed portion of the prisoner’s tongue.

A figure in turquoise hooded robe could only shake their head, as the same figure they had

watched torture this prisoner on the X-Cross stabbed the very creature which brought them the message squarely in the chest with the fork, then laid it on the grate where the meat had been.

“I can give you four days.” the Pachyderm figure said. “Find that gargoyle and kill them.”

the robed figure cocking their head. “You know what do with the other one.” even though this torturer had power, even this affiliate from the Anubi (a-noo-bI) spooked him, the double doors to the torture room coming to.

If they could make quick work of their adversaries the Quorsican Knights (kor-si-kin), he knew he would not be long for this world, stirring the remains of the bird.

This Pachyderm of man soon steps on deck after turning the prisoner on the X-Cross to face a billowing white fire with tinges of red could be seen within the open gate of a stove, which explained the

prisoner’s second -third degree sunburn, amongst other things.

The sun was hitting the man from the east, the personal that were manning the ship though knowing he was there, continued unabated. They knew what could happen. Acknowledging when he speaks to them or attempting to pass them is one thing. But halting their actions could get them into serious hot water. Or tossed over into said waters.

A woman whose face was concealed from the bridge of their nose down with a bandanna that appeared to fabric that must have been finely ground sapphires; wearing a dress whose silk upper half must have been made from finely crushed rubies, the skirt seemingly wrapping around her legs to form flared pants.

Ordering her to drop the veil soon as he stood before her. “Looking upon my pers-” her protest sent her face sideways and herself narrowly off her feet from the back of his hand.

“We have had this conversation before.” Staring out into vast horizon. “And your neck and face must be sore from the constant reminder that

“One, I do not care about your position “Two, you forget your place upon the Chevron.” his AG handing him the invoice, before turning to deal with his other duties.

Attention now again up the Gibbon featured female with purple circles surrounding amber colored ones, her face was reddened where the back of his hand met the very cheek. “Now, you wanted to tell me what?” she knowing there was a reason why he made certain she could see he was now brandishing the telescope.

“Keeping the Arch Protemp will only make the Justices angrier.” she keeping to her promise of keeping him updated per his orders.

“When they release the funds,” coming to the last spot where the Conj’r was sighted. “Then,

only then shall the Protemp be released.” her head craning hearing him tap the telescope on the rail, knowing full well he didn’t give her permission to leave. “If he happens to be expired, then that is…” gazing at her from the opposite end of the telescope, prior to rubbing a cloth upon the lens. “…on them.”

Yet again, this was his way of warning her.

Reaching the doors to her quarters. “Bek Nivz,” (nə-vIs) knowing the penalty for not referring to him via his Captain’s title. “I must remind yet again your life shall be forfeited due to not only seeing the face of a Malander Sister (mo-lon-der). “But your kin, your lineage,” smirking prior to replacing the veil.

“shall before your fate twenty times over.” door coming to.

Smiling, his AG returning by his side. “Rein is in its Dry Season.” Capt. Bek Nivz laughs, patting his AG on the back.

“And so it is.” all on the AG’s opposite side seeing that the skin of his face had been long since pulled away, there was nothing, but their skull exposed, with twin bands of metal holding a monocle in

place… Before… his… eye.


First Cliffhanger Saga.  12th Grade Journal



Sounds of their intruder could be heard above while the family prayed they would hasten their departure.

The demons that have been plaguing their village have been vicious, taking members of the village or killing them.

The father laid his fingers to their child’s lips when all heard the beast standing near the door to where they were.

Eyes closed praying to God to send them a savior or merely send the demons away.

They know it was wrong to think it, but they could not help but thinking send them to someone else’s home.

The door swung open and there at the opening was one of the many demons snarling down upon. But as suddenly as the door had, the demon’s head exploded from a gunshot blast.

The family was in the midst of readying themselves for God when a voice from on high proclaimed the beasts were all dead.

Gazing up there stood a mature man with a graying beard and mustache wearing a gray, blood ridden trench coat. He was straightening his hat by banging it on his leg, showing off his flared hair.

They all knew the man due to his reputation preceded him all too well.


The coach ride to Averice was none eventful at best, at their last stop the coachman picked up two passengers who sat across from a man in a gray trench coat, long boots and just like his graying beard and mustache, his flared hair showed the same hues.

The man next to him was reading a book on the history of Specters.

“Nathen stop staring.” the woman under the veil and hat chuckled.

“But I can hardly believe we’re in the same carriage with him.”

“Guessing I should be honored as well.” opening one eye to check the author’s name on the book beside him grinning.

Hm,” the gentleman so lost he didn’t know what was said at first, his fellow seat traveler nodding towards the book he was into. “Oh, sorry I did not write this.”

The woman said something in Russian, and the man responded in kind.

“But Avren Renoir the famed Demon Hunter.” the man next to the woman sounding almost drunk with delight.

The bookman snorting and scoffing.

“You mean you do not believe he has done good Sir?” the woman gazing through her vail, with the man next to her appearing as if they were going to go to blows.

Demons, please so many of the reports come from people who have suffered a traumatizing incident,” 

bringing his book to, keeping one finger within. “so they use their low intellect to explain,” the woman laying a hand on the man’s chest, Avren implied the man was within his opinion with a shake of his head. “or due to being exposed to some unknown toxin.” the bookman adding.

“Is that what the author of the book proclaimed,” the veiled woman inquiring crooking a brow, Avren and the woman all too familiar with the author of the very book. “or of your own.”

Like minds Mr. Renoir, like minds.” bookmarking the chapter he was on with a piece of leathered scripture.

“The same could be said about Religion.” the woman pointing out his bookmark grinning.

“My niece got this for me, felt a little pray,” all telling he was none happy with the gift, but he accepted it nonetheless. “could not hurt her Uncle during long rides.” chuckling.

“So you feel Religion is for weak minds too, Mr.?” the veiled woman inquiring.

Vasiliev Salican Vasiliev.” (sal-i-sən) sounding as if they all should know him.

“I teach Universal Theology in Grien Trent.” Avren adding near his hometown of Tariff whereupon the man nods. “Which is how I know of you.” sounding condescending.

“I don’t recall the author of that book having been to either.” the man next to the veiled woman mentioning.

“So you know Belvidere Bonete?” (bOn-uh-tA), starting to think he misjudged one of his passengers all too soonly.

The woman’s eyes could not have grown wider looking at the man she was with. “I am impressed, I did not know I was riding with such a Learned man” laying gloved hand on his face.

Smiling the man could not help himself. “He’s a bit,” pausing to find the right narrative. “Dry for my tastes.” causing a cough from the man and forcing him to go immediately return to where he was in his readings.

All could tell he wanted to take a break from the book with how he sat the rest of their journey.


The coachman called out they were approaching their destination, so have themselves ready.

Pulling into the station, something in the air caused the horses to be ruffled, Avren gazed out into their new surroundings and felt something was off too. But hid it well.

Aiding their lone woman off the coach, the veiled woman kissed her seat mate’s cheek. “Could you please check us in my Love,” the man returning the gesture, as their bookman nodded to them all without a word before leaving.

Thinking he was out of earshot, he complained how he had never been on a ride with such unenlightened, ludicrous people in his life.

“I thank you Sir for not revealing my identity to my Husband.” the woman laying a hand on Avren’s cheek.

“I figured he already knew,” craning his head not liking the feel of where they were. “It was-”

“You feel it too,” Avren taking her arm, escorting her to the tavern where they would be staying.

“someone or something watching us.” Avren nodding, carrying his lone bag in the opposite hand.

“I shall pray for you this evening Sir.” she leaving him after Avren delivered her to her husband.

“Mr. Renoir a letter left for you to be open on your arrival.” the man behind the bar watching the couple heading up to their room.

Paying the man, Avren turned to read it, while his eyes shifted between it and his surroundings.

“Thank you.” dropping another couple of coins on the bar before departing.



  PART 1

When the Fuck did’e get released!” Ofc Phisar weaving behind the drug dealer he and his partner just chased from one of the local schools.

Officer Alamo was close behind wondering the same thing, the last she heard he had gotten an additional six months for being in possession of a firearm.

Neither realized they had entered the building supply backlot, Officer Alamo spun and stymied to keep from ramrod-ding her ribs into a pipe that sticking out just right. Once righting herself, her partner and the assailant had somehow vanished.

She knew she did not lag that much?

Cautiously moving through the mazeworks, Officer Alamo’s mind scanning possible points of ambush, along with how one of their own had been jabbed with a needle when a suspect had hit them just right.

Fearing the worst hearing her partner yell. Officer Alamo comes around the corner of a stack of masonry bricks to find him rocking and cursing up storm holding his left ankle.

Unclear initially whether his nodding and hissing was it due to pain or if should search further. Her hand brushes his shoulder moving past ever on guard.

Moving warily past, she scans left, right of another mazeworks of supplies, unaware that from their vantage point the assailant had a clear view of her, but not vise versa.

Slapping his palm against a stack of bricks beside him, yet again using a few choice words, Officer Alamo slowly backs her way towards Officer Phisar.

How bad?” Ofc Alamo laying a hand on his shoulder, kneeling but keeping a close vigil, her partner keeping his service weapon at the ready.

“Thinkin’ I’m going to have to cancel the Pick-” gritting his teeth eyes shifting when Alamo barely breezed his right ankle when scanning the area. “Up game with Bryant.” chuck-ling and grimacing.

“Uh yeah, Bryant would have something to say about this.” Officer Phisar’s blinking ran-domly and shifting, while Alamo called for the ambulance.

While Oogie Boogie and Oscar (O-sker) tended to Phiser, seeing a couple of the of the concrete bricks where her partner was found lying over while reviewing the area. Granted the chase was breakneck and tense, but how could he have landed his foot into grooves liked he said. 

Tripping she could see, landing on wrong when running she could see. But his foot sand-wiching itself?

“Baby’s all secured with his Ba-Ba and blanky.” Officer Phiser pistons his middle finger to-wards his mouth when Oscar updated his partner in a babyish voice pinching Officer Phiser’s cheeks. “The permission slip to spank him has been filled out.” hearing him cry out passion-ately, with Officer Alamo and Oogie Boogie the Iranian medic rolling their eyes looking at each other. “So we’re ready.” everyone thinking he would merely enjoy it way too much.

Seeing them off, Officer Alamo knows Jahan ruled the day when he said he liked Oogie Boogie from ‘A Nightmare Before Christmas’. But he does give as much as he gets.

His partner he calls Pinky, from ‘Pinky and the Brain’; or Stempy from ‘Ren and Stempy’.

God they had everyone rolling one get together when reenacted one of their routines.

She knew the good memories would not last long, bowing her with harden sigh on hearing the specialized call. Just for her.

Her father’s voice bleating forth with the name. “Geoffrey!” trailing.


“You will be stabbed in the back!” a hornless Takin man tethered to one of the three masts of the ship, watching in disbelief how his personal betrayed him for the heart shaped face woman with reddish brown hair whose bluish violet tips hooped at the shoulders.

His crew, the Maunarch crew personally celebrating while they prepped the ship’s depar-ture. The man struggling for his life, forced to watch in horror his vessel slowly turned away from the slowly descending Conj’r (kon-jer). “I swear you will get yours!” man tethered tightly to one mast was its Acting General, a sort of Ambassador of the Sea Lanes to ensure nothing is misunderstood when they pulled into the various ports.

Their left arm was pinned above their head by some sort of checkmark protrusion. The shoulder still aching from when the very shoulder happened to find a protruding barb on a vat seal; as their opposite was chained about the mast itself. ‘you will be betrayed!’ came a faint voice while the waters reaching the waist of his silver striped purple pants. His silver trimmed boots that made them appear to be one, had vanished already into the waves.

“I’m sorry, was he saying something?” the very woman with large spidery emerald-sky blue eyes clad in mid-chest corset laced at the top with ruby red pearls at the top, then lime green ones decorating the bottom.

Remind me to visit the-” snapping her fingers attempting to coy fully recall the name for a physician. “the you know “to have my ears dewormed.” the Aye-Aye crewman could only shake their head.

The self-appointed reddish-brown haired captain’s outfit was finished off with a blue cumber bun covering her black pants. Her boots resembled the good AG’s (Acting General) whose olive-green ruffled shirt was even more waterlogged, as he attempted to keep his head above the waters.

Samn,” (sə-mən) the Gargoyle cocking his head down some when anyone happens to speak to him from the half-masked side. “Growt” Hypo-faced-grayish-blue complexioned coming to her side and back. “Take the Slip to find out what you need.” Capt. Aftex glancing back at the now submerging AG as if he could still hear them. “Then we’ll rendezvous.” each nodding; the last of the mast the AG was on vanquished by the sea. Growt the first to turn during their new captain’s orders to head to the very Slip.

“Captain we will have to,” the alligator-raven Steward lowing their voice as much as he could before stating “Rein.” which everyone in earshot still shivered. “We cannot keep using the regular mast lines” observing the lines being outfitted in ready some for her word.

Itching her forehead. “I know,” adding how they could be easily overtaken if they continued crossing each’s mind. “And we will.” harden sigh through her hand squeezing her face, Moov (mOvI-) seeing how much she dreaded, hated even considering the option.

Observing personal raising the papyrus-esk sails. Anyone not familiar with them would assume they were forced to use these due to their regular sails were too overly damaged.

These sails are the ones needed for the speed they shall be going. What she and her Bi hadn’t told the crew was of the barbaric captain of the Trexier (treks-kear) was on his way. And she knew no one wanted to deal with this masochist. So, the regular sails would get so bound up he would surely catch them.

Moov and their long since Sunk AG had millions of tails concerning this.

Their old AG repeated the same a story of how two crewmen were spliced in half when they had not risen the correct sails.

The Maunarch coming about, the last of the Conj’r’s mast no longer visible on the starboard side.

Moov scowling at the Slip Samn and Growt were in. Had they grabbed one of the Slips from the Conj’r?

Aftex recognized the distant gaze of Bi all too well, which is why she rose her hand at that moment.

Towing the Slip so neither had to use too much energy, Captain Aftex lowers her ring finger, tapping one of her gold pendulum earrings with her thumb, 

someone a long time ago had taught her to use this method as a timer.

Momentarily thumb scratching her upper lip, closing her eyes; Growt readied the dagger to the line, just behind the knot…

Taking a deep breath… Aftex holds it…rope wrapping around blade…

She was taught this trick by the ferryman the Conj’r had before they vanished during a storm. Arm dropping, the pontoons that act as secondary armor for the lower half the ship slowly raise the Maunarch.

Tow line tethering outwards while the ship rose to speed. Growt’s hands showed how often he had done this very thing. Bi laid one hand on Aftex’s back. Moments before the Maunarch reached its main speed, the line is severed, and the Slip is thrown far enough away for them begin their mission.

Everyone but Aftex knew Bi was not looking truly in the direction of where the Conj’r had been during the slow rise to speed and severing of the tow line.

Any watching this would assume he/others had been giving their Respectful Prayers for all lost personal at sea. No matter the reasonings.