Celtic legion, Will-O who is a wisp has been given a commission of guardian to the descendants of Colin McGregor. She has done well in her commission over the centuries until Ongwaterohiathe Whitehorse tries to rescue a young woman that has fallen overboard into the Niagara River, plunging him head long down into the terrifying world Mesa Soyok Wuhti, a Hopi demonic legion. Mesa Soyok Wuhti or Monster Woman seeks her victims out in the dead of the night for their heads to put in her basket she carries on her back or steal you away to her longhouse to fatten you up for her cauldron.
Will-O Wisp of Niagara Falls is the next novel in the Free Chapter of my novels. You can find the complete novel at the following links:
The fog was a thick gray swirling mass which shrouded the Maid of the Mist 3. Twenty-three-year-old Ongwaterohiathe Whitehorse coiled the rope before he stored it in the aft stern locker in the pilot tower. His jet black hair fell across his forehead as he left the pilot tower and headed down the stairs toward the gangplank He was glad this day was finally over. If he hurried, Ongwaterohiathe would be in time for the first reading by the Iowa Indie Author Group at the Theater Loft in the heart of Elmwood Village before the play of ‘Because of Me’ by J.C. Hamm.
The clean deck lay empty after being flooded with blue plastic poncho covered bodies as they crowded the railing for the premier spot to capture the particular moment on a photograph to commemorate their visit to the falls.
Ongwaterohiathe glanced over at the roaring falls as he was about to leave the ship. The fog blanketed the falls but failed to cover the growl of the falls drumming in his head. He turned to wave goodnight to the pilot when Ongwaterohiathe caught a glimpse of a slim Kanyenkehaha woman at the bow railing.
Her long raven hair was braided in a waterfall twist into a mermaid braid darkened by the thick mist. His sister had tried for months to master that particular braiding technique without success. The woman turned her head toward Ongwaterohiatha as the fog swallowed her.
Ongwaterohiathe ran back to the bow searching for her. He could not see her anywhere. Ongie snatched the life preserver as he combed the turbulent water for any sign of her. She appeared thirty feet down the river for a mere moment.
Ongie launched his six-foot-four-inch frame over the railing, using it for an extra foot boost. As the torrent river closed over his head, he heard, “Ongie No! She’s not real!”
Ongie’s temples hammered as he tried to rise. A gentle hand pushed him back down on the pillow as a cold cloth covered his broad forehead and eyes Ongie could hear the distant falls roar as it rumbled along. It vibrated all around him. He pulled the towel from his eyes and focused dimly on the ornate glass dome over him holding back the turbulent waters of the Niagara River.
“No, no it can’t be,” he struggled against the gentle embrace.
“Sh-sh everything is all right. She can’t find you here.”
“Can’t find me, who is she? The last thing I remember, I jumped into the river to rescue a young Kanyenkehaha woman that fell overboard. Is she safe? Did someone rescue her?” Ongie’s strength depleted and sank once again against the pillow.
“There is no need for concern over that one. She can never die.” The cloth covered his eyes once more.
Ongie woke to the stench of a hospital room. His eyes crossed under the harsh light making hazy shadows of the hospital personnel. A shadow glided to the end of his bed. Ongie focused harder as he cleared his throat to gain the shadow’s attention.
“Well Mr. Whitehorse, it is nice to meet you finally. I have been waiting for a long time to do so.” Mesa Soyok Wuhti appeared at the foot of the hospital bed. “I do not know how you escaped us at the falls, however; there will be no escaping from me here.” She brushed back the long straggly black hair with the jagged-edged knife covered with blood. Her wide eyes stared as fangs appeared at the corners of thin lips.
The knife drew back over her head ready to be plunged into Ongie’s neck as Mesa Soyok Wuhti climbed over the foot of the bed.
Ongie could not move. His eyes riveted on the snarled face shining with glee over her apparent victory.
Mesa Soyok Wuhti crawled over his body, scratching and clawing the thin cover over Ongie. Her body twitched as she came up his chest. Her foul breath gagged the air out of Ongie’s lungs. She drew herself erect upon Ongie’s rib cage. The knife held high above her head then it plunged down toward his throat, “Soyoka-u-u-u!”
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This entry was posted in Events and tagged adventure, author signing tour, celtic legion, faith, forbidden love, Hopi legion, iron workers, Iroquois, Maid of the Mist boats, Mesa Soyok Wuhti, mystery, Niagara Falls, nightmare, orges, revenge, spiritual guidance.