A King Is An Animal That Feeds On Human Flesh Sirgylam, Last of the Rujmel-Hiri’ Giants [Part 6, to "The Cadaverous Planets"] SF

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Sirgylam, Last of the Rujmel-Hiri’ Giants [Part 6, to "The Cadaverous Planets"] SF

The Human Origins: possibly a mixture of ancient genetic mutations

And a face lift from Homo habilis to Homo creatures we are today. But who did the uplifting?

Circle of Refaim

The Last Rephaim Giant

Sirgylam–sat on the top of Mount Hermon where there remained the “Gateway to the Sun,” a one time national treasure, that is, a few centuries back when the forefathers of the nation of Atlantis were alive and prosperous. Now they were gone and Atlantis as well, the world he knew was getting smaller, he was the last of the Rephaim Giants.

Sirgylam was one of the sons of the so called: “Old Ones,” from the seed of Semyaz, his father and Farina, a human he cohabitated with, Semyaz being a renegade angelic being: supernatural.

Sirgylam, was the last of the giants of what was known at the time of the Rephaim Empire, a circle temple in what is now known as the Gilgal Refaim (in the Golan Heights area of Israel, at one time part of Syria). This circle of temples and dugouts was packed with stones weighing 37,000-tons. He was one of the ‘fallen ones’. He was one of the so called wicked ones, a tyrant, bully, a giant in appearance. He had lived in this city of stones and boulders up to recently. Born from the union of gods and humans which formed the basis for his demigod status, terrestrial looks and all; thus, he was half-man, a Titan perhaps, one may say. His brothers and sisters were all killed in war, all 7496-of them. It was a time when the Moabites lived in the Middle East.

–Sirgylam knew extinction was near by for the most part, him being some twenty-feet tall, and of an enormous weight. His hands as big as a person’s mid-section and his eye-socks as wide as a persons head; it was if anything, hard to hide his personage. And his reputation for eating people out of extreme hunger spells was notorious. The village people tried to feed him but it came to the point, it was point-less, they worked day and night to feed him. And now times had changed, there was only one giant left, not two or three or some other uncountable number as it used to be. They possibly could handle him they felt. In addition to Sirgylam’s being alarmed at not being fed anymore by the village folks, Ura’el, whom had chained and banished his father to some far off island in the Pacific, and had chained and bound his companion Azaz’el, under a ton of rocks, was a bit depression lately. Furthermore he knew his days were numbered.

He had a thin beard on his fat face and sparse hairs all over his whitish tarsal. His character, as I was starting to explain before, was vile, and with a lack of mercy.

In thought, he was reminiscing of his father Semyaz and his friend’s father and companion, Azaz’el, who were both magnificent angelic beings at one time, gone bad although, one of the ‘Old One’s’ as they were known, who were assigned to guard over the earth, and took it upon themselves to cohabitate with human flesh. Then shortly after that took place, they ruled the earth with an iron hand.

It was a time when the Horde that they were involved in, when Sirgylam was young, stupid and vile, he’d sit and play the dragon-skinned drums to appease his father and his guests. He also remembered that demonic beings also visited his fathers den, and he was introduced to them. They were what was called the pre-satanic beings; ones who existed before the Adam and Eve event, which was before his time.

Sirgylam was now 513-years old; he had out lived his father’s people and the other giants; he even out lived Atlantis, of which he had visited in his younger days. Atlantis’ king was a direct decedent to Azaz’el, it was a time when many things took place, when an angelic holy being named Ura’el cast many into the abyss and buried others in the sands of the desert with stones over them, bound and tied until judgment day.

Sirgylam: the Rephaim Giant

Immovable, was Sirgylam as he rested in a laying position on top of the long grassy slopes of Mount Hermon looking down upon the Cedar Forest. There another giant of sorts, not of the Rephaim, but the guardian of the Cedar Forest named Humbaba was. He knew him well, ugly as sin, but a companion to talk to now and then; so was his outlook on the matter.

As I was about to say, he was imminently looking at a bleak future, to say the least; as blind as it was, he wanted one, just one last triumph.

The Last Triumph

The years of power, gold, of being fed by the village people, any and every thing one wanted was gone; life was sour for the last giant of the Rephaim. All color to life seemed to fall to a pale, faded gray, if not black, lest one ponder on it too long, and it become dung-brown.

Lunar Demon

There were two Lunar Demons, one known as the Dog-faced Demon and the other was Elephant-face Demon. Who seemed at times to be bosom friends? As I say, it seemed to be, for even demon betray demon. But in any case, Sirgylam wanted to have a meeting with Dog-face to conjure up one last evil episode, one that he could remember and others to the end of days, and could pass on to his friends in the Underworld as a diamond among diamonds as far as inventive evil went. Humbaba’s reputation was already made; he was the Great Guardian of the Cedar Forest. He was known all over the world, and very few ever entered the forest in fear of him. He was made Guardian during the region of Atlantis by the ‘Old One’s’, none other than Sirgylam’s father.

–“Yes, yes,” said Dog-face, as he was being asked by Sirgylam to assist him in some kind of a revengeful task against a Canaanite village, which Sirgylam was eminently angry at.

King Og of Bashan, the last of the Refaim leadership (the last king that is), ruled the territory from Mount Herman in the north to the Refaim Circle, he two was dead now. Therefore, the cries of the village were:

“Thank goodness for that!”

“If only,” thought Sirgylam, “if only I could take those smiles off them faces for a few days, weeks, it would all be worth my death to be (of the villagers, that is).” King Og was a masterful king, survived most everything but not the war of the giants like Sirgylam, and now Sirgylam knew his time was coming.

“What can I do for you?” asked Dog-face.

Dog-face was indebted to Sirgylam for there was a time when Dog-face was assigned to hell, under the leadership of the henchman called, Agaliarept; Sirgylam used his influence with his father Semyaz and his father’s friend another of the so called, ‘Old Ones,’ to get Dog-face assigned with his friend Elephant-face on earth. Now Sirgylam wanted payback and Dog-face knew it.

“Make me a spell,” asked Sirgylam, “… [pausing for a moment] one that will reduce my size and make me handsome and youthful; one that at my command will make me into a viper [a beast-worm], one with long fangs, and immensely poisonous.

Said Dog-face [sneering and hissing], “I can do this but the spell will only last thirty-days, and then you will return to your original from, should you remain unharmed, that being, if you are killed in the process it is your worry; should you be disguised as a youth or a viper-worm. And I add, you will be subject to all the rules of mankind when you are human, and animal kind when you are animal, be careful and shrewd in your dealings.”

Then the demon hissed again, and spoke hesitantly, saying: “In other words you want to poison the village in revenge for what eventually will happen to you–the abyss I presume?”

There were a few utterances from the Dog-face, an incantation as well, as he brooded in a circle around the giant. Then stated:

“My debt to you is paid,” and vanished akin to the wind.

The Giant rested then, waiting for the magic spell to take hold. Then all of a sudden he turned into a five foot eight inch youthful, nice looking, if not innocent looking, man. He looked at his reflections in the water, a small pond nearby, he was pleased, most pleased.

The Village

Unmindful of his previous form the grateful giant headed down the mountain with eyes that held new and creative revenge, his heart vile to its core; so delightful he felt, that he had his one last chance to make a name and bring upon the humans a deadly curse

among the town’s folks, Sirgylam, who now changed his name to Sirgy: got right down to business, looking for homes with open doors, windows, chimneys, any kind of entrance.

His first victim was a young jewelry maker, she was quite lovely, and had left her brick baked [adobe style] home open to the sun so ventilation could cross the rooms, which circulated from the backrooms, windows, to the front doors.

As she was putting some beads onto a necklace, she noticed a slimy feeling rubbing against her legs, she went to look, a snake jumped, leaped upward, it had a horrid look on its face: its mouth wide open; it looked as if it had three sets of gums, and the fangs reached out as if they were hands and grabbed her neck. She fell backwards off her chair and the viper-worm bit and bit and bit her face until it was unsightly, swollen bruised, beyond recognition; discolored as if it was a darkened rainbow.

This was not to be the end; it went on for a week, daily killings at random, no set pattern; sometimes there was three victims a day. The small village was in fear that if the snake was not found soon, the whole village would be wiped out. For there was only around one hundred villagers that lived there; not counting the farmers outside the village gates of course, of where there were about twenty more.

It was indeed the biggest event that had ever come to this village, other than hundreds of years ago when they had to feed the giants of the land and before that, when they had to share their women: wives, daughters and young boys to the likes of the Angelic-Renegades. But it didn’t occur to the village residents at this time, that their could be one amongst them, although they hadn’t seen the giant in awhile. Consequently, it was not related to the new young boy in town, the one that slept outside of town by an old tree and pond, the giant in disguise. He’d swim in the morning to get freshened up and walk into town, find a morning job, get fed, and simply walk around as all the young men do, feasting his eyes upon those that appealed to him, no one the wiser to his identity.

The Candle Maker

Thought, the Candle Maker: ‘What can I do to solve this problem?’ And so he called on an old friend for advice, who came to a conclusion he could accomplish this task and rid the village of this viper pest. He said little to anyone, and made a candle that gave off a sweat and enticing scent; then going about asking the village folks each to have a candle and asking them to light it when alone or sleeping, for the most part at night. Should they not, they’d be subject to the whims of the culprit snake of course. And he assured them that should the snake come it would be paralyzed from the odor of the candle; whereupon, they needed to get to him before the candle wax was to its end, and before its flame was put out. All agreed to the Candle Maker’s request, feeling they had no better ideas on the matter.

And so it was, Sirgy had turned into a viper-worm again, and found his way into the bed of the Candle Makers wife’s. As he was about to leap on her, the smoke and scent of the candle got into his eyes and throat, and internal organs, and froze, paralyzed him, as it was intended to do, as if it had some kind of allergenic chemicals in it.

An hour went by, and she remained sleeping, and the candle slowly melted down, down, down, almost to its bitter end, when the husband came in, saw the viper frozen upright on the bed: woke his wife up quietly, knowing the scent and heat of the candle was all most gone, and its flame almost out: he was astounded at the sight of the snake being a heads length away from his wife’s bosom, close to her heart. Then the Candle Maker, having brought his work items home, cooked up in liquid form a batch of wake, mixed the perfume into it, with a magic spell poured it quickly over the snake; incasing it in a world of wax, with frozen words from the spell.

Then a voice said: “You owe me your wife for a time,” she looked at the demon, as he entered the bedroom door her husband standing by her, the demon sitting restlessly on the bed (for he had played both sides of the fence, it is the nature of a demon, should anyone think otherwise); then she looked at her husband.

“It was the price,” he said feverously.

The town’s folks had paid the Candle Maker well for ridding the city of this monstrous viper, which was now forever enshrined in wax. And he now had to pay the demon for his spell and chemicals for the odor.

Said the demon, “…should the wax lose its scent, it would release the giant, but then, no one can live without food or water for too long”; which is how long he wanted his wife for.

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