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Lakewood Times

Legend & Myth Writing

The Legend of Oolte

“Tell us something creepy Mr. Rike.”

“Are you sure you can handle it?”

“Yes sir.” the unknowing children nodded. 

“Ok then, I’ll tell you the story of the oolte. Now sit down and listen.”

Oolte was not always a scourge upon the kind and poor, in fact, itself was human. It is said he was a man of poor renown, always cheating and lying to the good people of his village. This was the medieval times so he could basically do anything. He was a thief that could never be caught, always evading the law, even when it was daytime and everyone would see the bastard. For 32 years this went on, the second generation of enforcers chased him with a vengeance for being a burden upon their families. There was a day where a new family came to the village. Some say they were witches, some say they were agents of a nearby town to kill him. It didn’t matter, they were not going to be robbed by some vagabond. The family did everything to research the thief. They went to eyewitnesses. They recorded what he stole. they even snuck into the enforcers’ building to get detailed information about him.

After 3 years of such tactics and more thefts within the town, they set up a plan. When the thief finally tried to enter the new family’s home… several new holes riddled the man as they set up the doors and windows with trap revolvers. Defenseless and dazed, he tried to escape when, BAM, BAM, one of the sons heard him coming and tried to finish the job with a double barrel shotgun. He fell back with no more hands accompanying him anymore, pleading to be freed from such a fate but that’s when the final part of the trap was sprung. The father, mother, and other son doused the house with kerosene and lit it alight, with the thief still inside. He wailed and cried that this shouldn’t happen, as the embers rose, so did his screams. The lively cheer of the village from afar would be heard. This angered the rotten man, how dare they celebrate one’s death? This wasn’t right, this needs justice. In a fate of hypocrisy, he got up and declared he would bring the town to true peace as hard as his charred lungs could mutter, before part of the ceiling crushed him and made sure he wouldn’t get up.

A few centuries later, children started going missing, blood splatters and pieces of what would be described as ashes were always seen. They say the new form of the thief became Oolte, a being that is meant to bring fear and anxiety to those that want more. It is a hypocrite of the highest order, making those disappear for wanting what he stole all those years ago. Oolte is described as a monster with charred skin and wearing rags all over himself. Be sure to shut off all lights when visiting near his hunting grinds after sunset. 


The Grave of the Red Maned, Snake-eyed Fool


“Well  what do you want to learn about this day?” Rebecca asked her niece, Lena, with a calm tone.

“Will you talk about Henunsla again?” the little girl asked.

“We already talked about that just a week ago however.”

“Well I want to know more about him!”

“Ok ok, we’ll talk about how he made his grave, settle down and listen so you could sleep well”

Henunsla, the one scale-eyed merchant god was reaching his end. A war- no, extermination would be a better saying, an extermination has been raging in Junso where all the merchants worshiping him were culled. Hangings, shooting squads, anything to decrease Henunsla’s power. Not to mention the god of shadow, flame, and nature, Ikiun. That damned serpent covered the night sky and made sure everyone suffered to reset the balance of humans. Ikiun was always vengeful since Henunsla accidentally killed its parents for skin to sell. Through whatever means, he became a god of vengeance.  It is said when a heatwave happens, it is him breathing in the tombs, trying to claim any souls too weak to withstand his rage. Henunsla didn’t know what to do. He was losing strength, all but his loyal servants were caring for him. He did not know what else than to simply shed blood. So he set out for Junso, for the final time. Hiding wherever he could, it took him over a month to get close to the king, who he thought was corrupted and rotten. 

“More wine! We have rounded up more servants of that false gold god hahaha!” the hoggish king said, lifting his jeweled goblet as a slave carried his wine.

Henunsla was waiting under a floorboard at least 6 feet away from the poor slave who was at least 4 feet away from the king himself, laughing. All of a sudden, Ikiun barged through a window and struck the floor with all the strength of a snake longer than africa could do, Catapulting Henunsla. 

“Oh you DAMN SNAKE!” Henunsla yelled before throwing knives at the lamentable snake

4 wounds popped up in Ikiun, prompting a screech before launching into the wall and piercing the palace. The king, naturally when he sees the most vengeful gods fighting in his courtroom, ran as fast as possible, spilling the wine which was just poured by the slave boy and ran like a pig. As the battle continued, Ikiun would pierce a wall of the palace, indiscriminately killing those all around him. Henunsla tried to slay the beast with old spells forgotten to man, spells that would move space and time, aging and removing parts of that devilish snake and making sure he had enough strength for the next evasion. After 4 weeks of battle, the capital city of Junso was decimated. Bodies strewn around, the king dead of a heart attack due to the stress, and leaving the dear old merchant god without an arm and bald. Ikiun, 600 years old all around, his body was only the size of the palace now. The both simply stared each other down before turning away. Ikiun knew Henunsla would soon keel over and die like a regular worm.

Henunsla had one more trick up his sleeve, he simply couldn’t get over his greed and lose his riches, how would anyone cope with such a loss? That’s the thing, no one can, so why not drag it down with you? When Henunsla arrived at his home, his servants surrounded him and carried him inside. The merchant god was dying, and no medicine would fix it. His servants did all they could, it was proving futile and they did not want to accept it. All of his servants felt as if they owed him, since they wouldn’t be alive without the red haired man interfering with their fates. Juka, Henunsla’s favorite, simply knew, deep within her heart.

After all medicines were used and unsuccessful, Juka made the hardest decision in her long life, she had to bury her god. After 5 days of mourning from his greatest worshippers, they made the journey to Junso along with the snake eyed lord’s body, still breathing. Along the way, he spouted nonsense, saying stuff like how there were going to be towers of transparent wood into the skies, weapons that would fire balls of iron and lead to shred whatever was on the brigand’s sights. Ideals of one god and his son ruling the earth when that was not true. Instructions to bring peace among merchants and nobles. All sorts of foolery, and this scared his vassals. After arriving at the ruins of the once great kingdom, they went to the very center,  a grand well celebrating the king’s elegance and wealth, gilded in gold, the ONLY thing not to be defiled by the battle some while ago. Henunsla stated they needed to throw his pitiful, yet grand corpse in, until a familiar bastard glided along the skies to visit as well. It was Ikiun, still aged and near death himself, who had a change of heart, so he told his rival’s last followers to cut him up and use his tail as a coffin, once they did however…something cruel happened. Henunsla jumped over a story high and used a spell, forbidden and horrendous even for his time to use, a curse of binding. This curse is forbidden because it binds the two souls together, and if one dies the other dies, and both souls are erased, never to reincarnate. Ikiun screamed with great rage, flailing around killing one of Henunsla’s followers near instantly. Henunsla then destroyed the ground below, still leaving the well intact and fell down, Ikiun had no choice but to follow to catch him.

Now below the ground with a giant hole, Henunsla cast another spell to create a magical barrier that nothing could enter, or leave. Ikiun was trapped, his strength not even making a dent into the stone when he could easily burrow for weeks. And with that, Henunsla wriggled his way into the god’s tail and stabbed himself with a gift from Juka, a dagger with the handle being that of a lotus flower, the first gift Juka ever had to give. Finally with the winds in motion, covered the magic barrier in sand. Juka and her 3 friends, the last believers of Henunsla’s existence, walked away in sorrow. For millennia after, it is said that the snake gods guard each other in both death and life, needing to scream their anger out. When Henunsla does so, it’s conveniently blamed on crashes in the economy. Ikiun does so, heatwaves and rage spread. They say the tomb is still hidden in the sand. But who knows, maybe this is all just mumbo jumbo…

“Aaand that’s how his grave was made”

“Wow! So where is his grave now?” Lena asked with great excitement.

“No one knows, who knows, maybe you’ll find it someday.”

“Boooo!” Lena said with the baby like rage she could muster. “I wanna go find it now!”

“Well, you won’t, not today.” your mother said you have to be sleeping by now, and she’s gonna get pissed with me that i read you another graphic story.”

Lena crossed her arms and puffed her cheeks. “Fine, I’ll go to bed.” 

“Good girl.” and with that, Rebecca put her niece to bed.

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