CHAPTER 13 - THE STORY OF JEREJAK

Dear fans, 

Here's chapter 13.

For now please stop pestering me to update the story. You may pester me again next month if I fail to update.

Oh yes, I hope someone can help me out with the grammar.

Need to go to sleep now.. Tired as hell. 

Zzzzzz...

CHAPTER 13 - THE STORY OF JEREJAK

Author: AfterDark
Proof Reader: horzepower (http://onoffpisi.blogspot.com/)

So, last night at the hotel I have called Cacamerba to arrange for my first meeting with him. Surprisingly, he texted me this morning before I went to Mr.Lam’s house and told me that Imam Ali has decided to join us for the ‘afternoon tea’.

Because this was my first time ever being in Penang, I have decided to let Cacamerba to pick the venue of the meeting. However, I did made it clear to him that since the the discussion will revolve around the subject which is not suitable for the fainted heart, then privacy was to be the paramount consideration.

So you can imagine to my surprise when the place turned out to be one of the busiest food stalls in all Penang.

“You have got to be kidding..!!”

Cacamerba must have noticed the gruesome expression on my face. I’m not sure exactly if Penangites have different set of vocabulary than the rest of us in this country but when I emphasized on the word ‘privacy’ last night I was expecting at least an exclusive quiet restaurant where we can discussed in private. Instead what I saw before me was an bustling alley filled with diners and several Indian guys raising their voices as if shouting at each other in ordering foods and drinks.

“What the heck is this place?” I turned my head to Cacamerba.

“What? What?”...with a poker face he was pretending not knowing the point I was getting at.

“What do you mean what-what?”I was annoyed

“You’re the one who told me to pick a good place to eat?”Cacamerba make it clear that it was now somehow my fault.

“Noooo.. I said this morning to pick a place to have an afternoon tea… we are going to talk about some serious matters, remember??”. I locked my jaw.

“Afternoon tea? What’s that? Sipping tea in the afternoon like sissies? This is Penang lah. In Penang we discuss world crisis while having ‘nasi kandar’ and when it come to that this is the best place in Penang”. Cacamerba was smiling from ear to ear as he said that with one hand pointing up toward a sign above. 

I looked at the sign. It said “Selamat Datang. Nasi Kandar Line Clear 24 Jam” (Welcome, Line Clear Kandar Rice 24 Hours).

I sighed.. I just ate less then three hours ago with Mr.Lam and now Cacamerba took me to an eating place again?

“Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s eat!”

You would not believe it if I told you who said that. For a pint size girl, Syafiqah certainly has a big appetite to complement her big mouth. This morning she ate 3 plates of fried mee, then during lunch she refilled her plate twice, and now this little monster was pointing her tiny nose sniffing towards the direction of kitchen. I must say I pity her future husband – whomever that maybe.

Since I was the only one with the objection, then I have no choice but to respect the voices of the majority. So we went in as Cacamerba shows the way to our table.

The ‘Nasi Kandar Line Clear’ (that’s the name of the place) is not the best of place to discuss secret things which were highly guarded by the Watchers Group. By protocol members of the Watchers Group would not even exchange phone numbers with another member let alone discussing classified materials in a public places like this. Instead we use skype credit to call one another if there was ever a need to call others. This place is not even a restaurant by the look of it. It is more of a stall located in an alley with several tables for customers on each side. The temperature was sweating hot even though there were fans here and there mounted on a several poles inside.

Cacamerba shows us to our table located at the far back next to this huge sign on the wall saying ‘Line Clear Heritage Restaurant Since 1930’. Already sitting there were two guys with no sense for good dressing. The first guy was in his 40s wearing a songkok, a blue t-shirt and a black trouser – while the other one was in full leather jacket, denim jeans and still donning his full face helmet.

We all took our seat and then I shook hands with the first guy.

“Imam Ali I presumed?”

Imam Ali smiled broadly as we shook hands for the first time despite the many years knowing each other.

“Finally we met Afterdark.. After so many years concealing our identities in internet, it’s ironic that we eventually met in place like this, don’t you think?” He said as his eyes then flickered at Cacamerba with unfathomable expression. Aaah at last - I have someone siding with me about the impropriety of this place..

Realizing that the stare was meant to criticize him, Cacamerba quickly pointed his finger to the helmet guy.

“Hei hei hei.. It’s not entirely my fault you know.. It’s his fault too! Not many eateries allow a helmet freak like him to enter! He insists on hiding his face that way”

I can hear a cough coming from the helmet guy as all eyes now were now on him.

"I believe you two already know each other. He's not members of the Watchers Group but we all do exchanged blogroll links to each other's blog. This is Mojo from Mojowatcher blogspot".

I look at the guy with a helmet sitting in front of me. It's 30 degrees Celsius in this restaurant and yet he still donning his biker’s suit.

"Hi Mojo Jojo, nice to meet you finally" I was greeting him as I waived.

I could not even see through that helmet of what his reaction might be with me calling him Mojo Jojo. Whenever we communicated through the internet I always added the name ‘Jojo’ because I thought it’s more comedic.

There was a grunt sounded from the helmet but I could not tell whether he was smiling or grimacing (I now believe it's the latter). Then a deep voice came out.

"Please do not call Mojo that. Mojo's name is Mojo without Jojo. Mojo Jojo is a primate cartoon character of which Mojo is not" his firm and sturdy  voice aiming at me as if warning being issued.

(Note: Mojo Jojo in the Powerpuff series is a monkey character wearing a huge turban with a huge brain)

"Uh sorry, my bad.." I swiftly apologized.  Deep inside I still cannot get over the name Jojo though. But I will try not to use it in front of this guy whose selection of wardrobe was intended perhaps to potray a serious aura from him.

Syafiqah on the other hand did not see the need to hide her curiosity about Mojo's wardrobe "Hey mister!, are you insane wearing that thing. Why not lose the helmet? It's hot in here!"

Syafiqah said it loud enough across the restaurant that I heard snickers coming from a group of girls sitting two tables away from us. I was looking at Syafiqah with a stern warning in my eyes. Imam Ali remains calm and composed whereas CacaMerba was trying to hide the grin about to appear on his face.

Mojo breathed heavily and audibly, probably because he was not anticipating an ‘attack’ on his fashion taste from anyone. The black helmet he was wearing and the breathing sound suddenly reminded me to Darth Vader from the Star Wars movie. Suddenly I too felt like wanting to laugh so I immediately dropped a spoon under the table and duck - pretending to pick it up.

While under the table, I heard a deep voice of Mojo.

"Mojo Watcher is a technology specialist. Not many people are in the field. Mojo makes special gadgets and applications for many important parties. Work nature  makes Mojo a dangerous living being  to certain parties either visible or invisible.  Mojo must remain in anonymity until the day. That’s what the helmet for".

O God, this is too much! Now he even sounded like Darth Vader!

Suddenly Imam Ali too was under the table looking for his spoon. He couldn’t hold it no more and was closing his eyes trying to suppress himself from bursting into laughter. From under the table I can only see CacaMerba's legs were violently moving as he snorted between laugh.

Mojo was now crossing his legs in defensive mode right now and who can blame him when there's a loud mouth female around?

Imam and I emerged from under the table still trying to straighten our face. Syafiqah immediately look to me with a finger still pointing to Mojo.

“Afterdark, why is your friend here referring to himself as a third person?” asked Syafiqah to me.

“Actually Mojo, I was about to ask you the same question too..” I said to Mojo.

“Mojo believes that question is a waste of time to answer. Mojo believes we have more urgent matter to discuss..” Answered Mojo sternly.

“Why are you hiding your face.. Off with the helmet I say” Syafiqah still would not let go of Mojo off the hook easily.

“As stated by Mojo.. There are better issues in hands…” Mojo was avoiding the question.

“Are you even a man or a woman?” She attacked again.

“Mojo would like to talk about why we are here today” Mojo was avoiding.. again.

Syafiqah was now staring hard at Mojo’s chest.

“What are you doing?”  Asked Mojo.. his voice trembled in fear.

It took 3 seconds before Syafiqah replied.

“I believe I can see a shape of girl’s tits there….”

“WHAT?”

Laughter broke between me and Cacamerba as Mojo flipped the visor of his helmet and pointed his finger to his flaming angry eyes.

“Look at my eyes! Do these eyes belong to a girl! Huh?” Mojo was finally lost his patience at Syafiqah. Even without the benefit of seeing his face in full, I can tell that Mojo had lost his cool but that does not change the fact that Syafiqah’s questions were as funny as hell.

Imam Ali immediately patted Mojo’s back and told him to relax. Then he told me and Cacamerba to stop laughing as our behaviour had attracted too much attention from the other customers in the restaurant.

“So gentleman, so what’s the agenda of our meeting today?” Everyone in the table winced upon hearing Syafiqah unashamedly officiated the Watcher’s Group meeting. Imam Ali then threw a meaningful look at me.

“Let’s begin with how you know about Fatimah’s death in the first place, shall we?” I suggested to let Imam Ali tell his story first. He sighed reluctantly but decided to abide by my request.

It turned out that Imam Ali and I shared the same ‘informer’. The same MGS who had told the me about the Pangs’ coincidently was the same person who informed Imam Ali about the strange death of Fatimah. However,  MGS leaves the details about how Fatimah had became apostate before her death. On the day she died, Miss Pang had texted MGS about what he saw in the hospital emergency room. Upon hearing about the black tongue and the fact that death was related to the Jerejak Island, MGS immediately contacted Imam and stated her inner thought that Fatimah’s death was somehow related to a satanic ritual by the Illuminati. Being a profilers herself, she knew that Imam would be drawn to investigate the matter first hand especially when Kuala Ketil is just an hour drive away from where he stays.

As predicted, Imam Ali being a Kedahan simply could not resists the urge to investigate anything that might relates to Illuminati’s activities in Malaysia and not only did he went, he also brought along the ‘clown’ (Cacamerba) and the freak (Mojo) with him.

“I was tricked to be there. He called me to visit him and a minute later he forced me to drive him to Kuala Ketil!” said Cacamerba explaining his involvement.

“You know I don’t have a car.. I only owned a motorcycle!” Slight embarrassment can be detected on Imam's face.

“And you?” I glared at Mojo but he just shrugged his shoulder.

“Mojo took a taxi all the way from KL at 6 am to Kedah. Mojo was only interested to find out and to document the evidence should a demonic bite mark be found on the corpse” said Mojo nonchalantly.

Syafiqah winced at hearing Mojo addressing her dead sister as a ‘corpse’. But before she lashed at Mojo I pursued for further explanation.

“And?”

Mojo didn’t answer my question. Instead, he pretended to examine the giant poster next to where he sat.

Cacamerba snorted as he explained.

“There were too many people there. So he decided to stand like an idiot on the lawn like 15 meters away from the house because he was afraid people might asked why he was wearing a songkok and surgical mask”

Well, I guess that explanation resemblance to Mojo presence. There were simply no boundaries to his paranoia. Anyway, that explained why Syafiqah did not recognized Mojo now donning his helmet. Mojo did come to her house that day but they never actually met.

I exhaled a little as I turned my head back to Imam Ali.

  

Me:              So you think the Luciferians are planning something big?

Imam Ali:     Yes. I do and MGS seems to think likewise.

Me:              Big enough that it requires the ceremony to be held?

Imam Ali:     That’s my theory.

Me:              Another 13^th May perhaps?

Imam Ali:     To bring another 13^th May several other dominoes must falls first. Seems too early for that for the time being.

Me:    What would be so big that they would have to present the girl as human sacrifice to demons?

Imam Ali:     Well, UMNO is being weakened from within and the 12^th general election is around the corner so..”

(P/S: just to avoid confusion, this story supposedly occurred in 2007)

“WAIT! WAIT! WAIT! HOLD ON!” Syafiah shrieked with a horror strucking voice, her hands waiving and eyes darted back and forth to Imam Ali and me. “Ceremony? Human Sacrifice? What the hell are you both talking about?! Are you still talking about my sister?”

Cacamerba rolled his eyes, Mojo huffed and Imam Ali gasped in shock. Then they all look at me with a surprise look.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Imam Ali asked me.

“Errr.. Not yet” I admitted with a stiff voice. Syafiqah does deserves a bit more information on her sister’s death and yet I’ve been holding that from her.

Imam Ali sighed shaking his head in disbelief.

“Before we proceed with our discussion today, you need to brief her about the history of Jerejak Island first” said Mojo to me as he folded his arms over his chest.

“I was actually hoping we could spare her from that knowledge. That’s not exactly what most Malaysians had learned in school textbooks” I snapped at Mojo.

“Mojo's right.. “ Cacamerba rolled his eyes. “They killed her sister.. She deserves to know how it all begin..”

Syafiqah stared at me for a long moment with one eyebrows raised incredulously and then with an assertive tone, made her demands.

“You.. The history of Jerejak.. Explain.. Now”

* * * * * * * * *

Like I said, what you are about to read is not exactly the kind of history you could find in any school textbooks. In fact, no evidence has ever been presented to proof that these events really happened. The Watchers Group, being a group of ‘mental’ people who suffers extreme paranoias are not exactly the best people to know how to distinguish between histories and myths.

However, this is what ‘someone’ had told the group about what happened in Jerejak a long time ago and so far we see no discrepancies between the story and the profile of the Luciferians that we have  developed.

Now, I have wrote in the internet about the arrival of the Freemasons in Malaysia. In my article ‘COMMENTING ON TAN SRI SANUSI JUNID'S MENTION ON FREEMASON’ ( http://tinyurl.com/d2rr4uz ) I have written about the British Colonial Period in Tanah Melayu being started by a Freemason by the name of Captain Francis Light whom was be the second generation Freemasons after the the first Grand Lodge of England was formed in 1717.

Every person in Malaysia (except those who doesn’t go to school) have heard about Sir Francis Light whom was the first to hoist the Union Jack on the soil of Tanah Melayu on August 11, 1786. However, assuming that most of my readers probably no longer remember that much what they have learned when they were teenagers. Here is some of the textbook version of Mr.Light’s biography.

(TEXT BOOK VERSION)

Captain Francis Light (1740 – 25 October 1794)[1] was the founder of the British colony of Penang (in modern-day Malaysia) and its capital George Town in 1786.

Born in an Ancient Town Woodbridge at County Suffolk England on 15 Dec 1740. His mother is Mary Light and his is father William whereas his grandfather, Colonel F. Light is respected & reputable man and was once a drinking companion of King George.

After receiving a grammar school education he joined the Navy when he was nineteen and served as a midshipman during the later stages of the Seven Years War.

He later sailed to Madras, India to take control of trade for the British. There, he secure command of a "Country Ship" (owned in India and engaged in trade in Eastern waters) belonging to Madras firm of merchants, Jourdain, Sullivan & Desouza.

Captain Light was later posted to Kedah to overlook the trade at the region. In 1786, Francis Light take possession of Penang after he promise Kedah that he will supply forces to defend them from their enemies. He was the founder of the British colony of Penang  and its capital George Town in that same year

The Siamese were soon threatening to attack Kedah and re-impose their suzerainty over Kedah but the promised help from Britain now became non-existent. Th Sultan tried to take back Penang but were defeated at Prai. A treaty was signed by which the Company agreed to pay him $6,ooo a year for the cession of Penang.

Francis Light died from malaria attack on 21 October 1794 and was cremated at Penang's Protestant Cemetery.

[THE WATCHER’S GROUP VERSION]

So okay, you have read the boring text version. Now here’s the ridiculous version from the most paranoid people in Malaysia – the Watchers Group.

So who told us this story?

Funny as it will sound, the story was a complete hearsay as being told by `someone’ to a a group member. That someone is actually a well known traditional malay healer (a ‘Bomoh’ even though people usually called him ‘Pak Ustaz’). Even if I just tell you the name of his practice you can immediately guess who he is. Yes, he’s that famous.

So who told him this ‘unofficial’ version of the history of Penang?

Can you guess who?

Nope, not a historian. A historian wouldn’t be able to get the documents necessary to proof this event and even if there is one, the documents are perhaps secured somewhere in a vault in Britain, guarded by the Luciferians. Furthermore, all the people who might knew about this events are already dead. The Jerejak Island has a history of its entire population being wiped out by a bubonic plague.
 

And as testified by the witness who told Pak Ustaz about the history of Penang - one of the dead is none other than Sir Francis Light himself.

So who is this witness? And considering that the event itself occurred more than two hundred years ago then what gave him credential worth considering?

Well, this ‘witness’ has that credential because he claimed to be 600 years of age. In 2004 a young girl who has just return from Jerejak Spa & Resort in a group vacation was possessed and has to be taken to a Ruqyah Centre run by the said Pak Ustaz. 

The witness – A Djinn in case you haven't figured it out yet – conversed with Pak Ustaz through the girl. It was the Pak Ustaz who later told his apprentice what the Djin had revealed and it was a couple of years later the apprentice decided to share the story with the rest of us in the Watchers group.

According sto the Djin who by the way called himself Ambo Unru - he was once a a resident of Mount Lompobattang in Sulawesi Indonesia. Then around circa 1660’s a bugis pirate by the name Lamadukelleng meditated in the mountain and summoned him to be his servant. From there on Ambo Uru serves his new master as a 'saka' (fostered spirits) and made him 'kebal' (invincible) to all weapons made from iron.

However, the Dutch at that time was hunting Lamadukelleng and his brothers due to their piracy activities. So the brothers together with their band of pirates migrated to ‘Tanah Melayu’ around circa 1700 and follow the footsteps of other Bugis who intends of establishing a new bugis powerhouse in the Malay land.

After the death of Lamadukelleng, his progeny who inherited Ambo Unru was involved in supporting the dissident forces in Kedah that was out to depose the Sultan of Kedah at that time, Sultan Abdullah Mukarram Shah. With the bugis help they were able to capture Kota Kuala Kedah for a short time in 1771. This is how Sir Francis Light came into picture. He came with a promise to help the Sultan to fend off the Bugis growing influence and did re-capture the fort in that same year. However, he did not met strong opposition because by the time Mr.Light arrived the Bugis had already retreated and the Bugis was now focusing instead on Johore and Selangor instead of Kedah. Only about 140 Bugis descendants remain in Kedah that year.

Most Malaysians were made to assume that the Union Jack flag was first hoisted in Penang. Our history books were kind of misleading on that. The truth is the Union Jack was flying high for the first time not in Penang but in Jerejak Island because Mr.Light had first arrived in Pulau Jerejak in early 1786 before heading on to Penang.

When the Bugis heard that Mr.Light had arrived in Jerejak Island some of them were curious to investigate the white people who had assisted the Sultan 15 years ago. The pirates amongst them wanted to know how strong the British navy was. Furthermore they were actually entertaining an idea of raiding the British themselves after hearing that the British had fired a gun loaded with silver dollar into the forest. They figured the British must have carried with them a shipload of silver worth robbing.

So two elderly Bugis - pretended to be middle aged village fishermans - landed on the shore of Jerejak Island in what supposed to be a reconnaissance mission. One of them happened to be the great grandson of Lamadukelleng and the fourth master of Ambo Uru.

It was fate that these two old men crossed their path with the two East Indiamen who had arrived a week before to hold a formal ceremony to take possession of the island. Being polite, the Bugis elders held out their hands as a gesture for a friendly hand shake with the foreigners and the foreigners were courteous enough to extend theirs.

What happened next took them completely by surprised.

The Bugis elders gasped while the two indiamen started hyperventilating. For the British Luciferians it felt like a mountain of solid rocks were pinning their hands down. The elders on the other hand were withstanding the heat of hellish fire that seems to emanate from the Luciferians palms.

Both parties then cringed away from the contact and then glared at each other in a state of bemused. No words were spoken and yet each of them perfectly understood what had just happened.

All four of them were practitioners of ancient black magic.

I don’t know the customs in other countries but in Asia a handshake is the most common method by one practitioner to detect and gauge another. If an ordinary person shakes the hand of the dukun, the dukun most certainly will feel nothing. But if that person turned out to be someone ‘knowledgeable’, then the most common sign is to feel its tremendous weight or the heat emanated from it.

The universal thing about practitioners of black magic around the world is that one warlock always felt this urge to test his power against another warlock. Some of the elders were curious to put a spell on the entire British navy but fortunately for the British they had built their fort on an island. This is the general weakness to all black magic because a spell would be significantly weakened once it crosses water be it a river, a lake or a sea. That is why for example it is impossible for a Malay dukun to put a spell on George W. Bush in America. No black magic is powerful enough to cross an ocean which is not only made of H20 but also full of salt. This is probably the reason why of all places in Malaya, the British chose to build their first two forts in an Island. First in Jerejak and then in Penang and later in Singapore.

Some of Island locals did launched supernatural attack on the British (There was no school back then, so learning ancient magic was quite a norm back then). These attack were fended off by the Luciferians who then advised Francis Light to wipe the Island clean of any Malays population. By that time there were only 10-15 locals staying in Jerejak island and no one knew what had happened to them.

Knowing what they were up against, the elders advised the Bugis pirates to throw their naval support behind the Sultan of Kedah. In 1791 the Sultan built forts in Prai and gathered an estimated 10,000 men assisted by the entire fleets of Lanun pirates in his attempt to expel the British from Penang. Francis Light then reinforced his garrison with two companies of British India infantry from Calcutta before attacking Prai. The Malays were relying on their bomoh to eye the British but the Luciferians were able to summon more powerful entities to trick the bomoh’s vision (this is still happening today). In the end the British victory was contributed by the fact that the Malays were caught completely by surprise during the attack. Anyone that failed or refused to flee was killed and everything else was burnt to ashes. The British gunboats also attacked the pirate ships and the Bugis suffered a considerable loss.

Syafiqah:     Wait a minute! Are you all saying that the British had used black magic against the Malays?

Me:    That’s not my idea to begin with. The djinn said that so if it's a lie then so am I.

Cacamerba: (grinning at Syafiqah) Hard to believe, isn’t?

Mojo:  It’s hard to believe because most people only associate black magic with the Asian and the African despite the fact that wizards and witches also exists since eon ago in Europe.

Syafiqah:     But.. if that’s true then does that means that the white people had defeated the ancient Malays too? How could that be?

Imam:          So many people have asked the same question. Our continent was feared by foreigners because the media has portrayed our race as the most powerful when it comes to dark arts. Yet the Malays were colonized by a handful of British. Our Malay warriors were well known for their supernatural invincibility. Some of them even gave the British a run for their money but in the end they all lost.

Syafiqah:     (Frowning) Did the pirates gave Francis Light a run for his money, too?

Imam:          (Smiling) In the end, yes.

                  

The Bugis – being a vengeful race as they were – plotted with several Kedahans elders to launch a final assault against the British. Magic relics from abroad were brought and ancient ‘saka’ were summoned in preparation for the attack that will be carried out in utmost secrecy. Both the Kedahans and the Bugis wanted to revenge the deaths of their people during the 1791’s war.

This time however the weapon of choice were the local’s ‘santau’ and the Bugis ‘doti’. The santau and doti are almost an identical black magic by which poisons were carried using wind as the medium towards the victim. In the old days a santau bomoh would mix venom extracted from snake, centipedes, jellyfish or other poisonous animal with a powder made from bamboo. It is not known what the bugis recipe for doti is but it was said that whereas a victim of santau would cough blood or suffered a bloated stomach and diaherea, the bugis doti on the other hand can cause the victim to feel extremely hot or cold before falling ill and simply died. In some stories it is mentioned the corpse turned black because of the poisonous effect.

In October 1794 the final attack began. Since Francis Light and most the British spent most their time in Penang, it became easier for the plotting Bugis and Kedahan to land on shore before blowing the poison into the wind that will carry it to its intended victim. As hundreds of such poison being mystically hurled towards the British that night, some locals reported that the very the next day of seeing small meteorites like object flying through the night sky at great speed.

As a result, in 1794 there had been an outbreak of what was later claimed to be ‘malaria’ in both islands. Hundreds of British officers and sepoys died after coughing blood and suffered extreme destabilisation of body temperature. Francis Light himself suffered the worst and died a few days later.

At that time Colonel Arthur Wellesly of Wellington, England, had proposed that the island act as an alternative naval base to Fort Cornwallis in 1797. The military post in Jerejak was suppose to provide protection for the new town opposite Jerejak, which was to be called Jamestown, now known as Bayan Lepas. However the so-called ‘Malaria outbreak’ has freaked the British so much that the plans has to be aborted.

Syafiqah:     I still don’t get what the story has to do with my sister being dead.

Imam:          You have asked Afterdark how the white people’s magic was able to defeat the ancient Malays?

Syafiqah:     Yes, I still  couldn’t get over with your suggestion that their ‘hantu’ (evil spirit) was more powerful than our ‘hantu’.

Imam:          It’s not about the race of the ‘hantu’ or from which continent it came from. All ‘hantu’ assisting practitioners of the dark arts are basically a ‘Djin’ or a ‘Syaitan’ and they get their power from the type of sustenance their master are willing to provide.

Syafiqah:     (Frowning) Meaning?

Imam:          (Smiling) Well, we also have our own evil spirits which can be fostered to do their master’s bidding. There are Polong, Palesit, Toyol, Hantu Raya, Bajang, Penanggalan etcetera. But consider this for a minute. The worst kind of sustenance that local spirits would demand is blood dripping from their master’s fingers. The European black magic is different from us.

Syafiqah:     How so?

Me:    The European magic as practiced by a Warlocks or Witches always seems to demand human sacrifice. Even during the days of Paganisme and during the Roman Empire, human sacrifice was an essential part of witchcraft and druidism. In Britain human remains have been found at the foundations of structures from the Neolithic time to the Roman era, indicating that human sacrifice may have been practiced in Britain long pre-dating any contact with Rome.

Syafiqah:     Okay.. and that would mean what?

Me:    (Sighing) It’s a basic common sense. Now, between a Malay hantu who occasionally feed on droplets of blood and the European hantu feasting on human sacrifice eight times a year, which hantu do you think is more evil?

Syafiqah:     On the scale of evilness, the European hantu of course.

Me:    And would it be wrong to assume that one more evil is probably more powerful?

Syafiqah:     But.. but.. All white men seem to fear our black magic..

Imam:          Aaaahh.. yes.. There’s a saying that the devil’s greatest accomplishment is making people believe it doesn’t exist.. Similarly making the Malays believe the European black magic is inferior gives them the element of surprise.

Syafiqah:     (sighing) If what you said is true, then it means that the European are better than us in every way!

Imam:          (Frowning) I only said that our black magic is inferior to them. I never said our race is less superior. All men created equally by God and in a way that really matter we are actually superior then them. 

Syafiqah:     You lost me again.

Imam:          Listen Syafiqah. If our race relies only on black magic then we will lose because the biggest baddest demons are siding with them. But as Muslims the Malays have Allah on our side. Rely only on the Almighty and we will not lose.

Cacamerba: That’s true. This is what our group is all about. We try to spread the message to the masses through all means of media and mass-communication. Stick to the right path and eventually we will kick their arse.. Ha ha ha.

Syafiqah:     And what about my sister? How she fitted into all these?

Mojo:  Unfortunately, we do think she was the main menu during the sacrificial ceremony took place in Jerejak Island. It would explain her death a lot.

Syafiqah:     But except for the bruises on her body, there were no other signs of injures!

Imam:          Yes, that’s the only thing missing from picture. There’s no indication that she has been cut for her blood.

Cacamerba: And she wasn’t exactly the best gift to be slaughtered on the altar either.

The whole group went silent for almost a minute – until I decided to share my thought with them.

“Ummm.. I think it’s not her being sacrificed..”

They were now looking at me. Syafiqah in particular pushed her eyebrows together as she glowered at me.

“Explain..” she demanded impatiently.

I thought oh man this is going to hit her hard! But she needs to know it. So I exhaled a little and then speak.

“At the time when she went to Jerejak Island, Fatimah was entering her third trimester conceiving Robert’s child..”

With the exception of Syafiqah, the rest of the group’s face were immediately clouded with understanding.

“She was no longer pregnant at the time of her death..” Said Mojo in a hollow tone.

“An abortion.. A killing of an innocent child by his own parent.. of course.. that would please a demon a lot” Imam muttered almost silently.

Cacamerba turned his head to Syafiqah.

“Hey Syafiqah, did the hospital pathologist performed autopsy on your...”

But Syafiqah’s face had turned so white that Cacamerba decided not to finish his sentence.

Then she wept in despair.

CHAPTER 12 - THE IMMIGRANT FROM MANDAILING

Firstly, I would like to say many thanks to blogger horzepower (http://onoffpisi.blogspot.com/) for correcting my grammar, make suggestions on what to add and even googled some pictures for this chapter. For a busy guy, he was certainly kind enough to spend extra time to contribute to this novel and lets hope he will continue to do so.

It took a while for me to start my engine to write chapter 12. I'm such a lazy person when it come to updating my blog that so far I have to invent a new character in every chapter just to keep the engine running.

But the latest character here should be quite familiar for some of you out there. I did not invent him as he's already one of the most legendary character introduced by the Indonesian well known author.

There were 8 titles published between 1978 to 1984 and I have read them all and I still read it today whenever I get bored. After 1984 there's no more stories written about the character and fans were left wondering what happened to the guy in the story.

I decided not to give full details about the character yet to keep the element of surprise. But for those who have read about this character, the title "the immigrant from mandailing" should be enough to provides a hint. But I promised to write my tribute to the books and its prolific author in future posting (and I might even upload the scanned copies of the books for the rest of you to enjoy too!)

I would like to apologize in advance to all my Indonesian fans (if any) my decision to incorporate this much beloved character into my novel offended them. I am such a huuuugeee fan of the novel that I simply cannot help myself from imagining what would it be like if the character.. as the author alleged.. is actually a real living person.

Like chapter 11 - chapter 12 is purely fictional.. and I mean it this time..

CHAPTER 12 - THE IMMIGRANT FROM MANDAILING
author: afterdark
proof reader: horzepower


"I can't believe you did this to me.."

Syafiqah was sighing and showing her long face as she said that to me. We were now on the road again heading towards Georgetown after a half day of interesting experience meeting Mr.Lam.

"Excuse me, what have I done this time?" I asked Syafiqah, puzzled by her sudden change of mood in the car.

No answer. Instead she threw me a look as though she was disappointed of me for not getting what she had just said.

"Aahh, come on….. just don't give me that look! I really don't know what you mean.." I was cringing as I said that to her.

"How long have we known each other, huh?" she asked menacingly.

"What do you mean how long?! I just met you yesterday for God's sake!" I almost laughed as I answered her that.

"That's not what I mean!.... idiot" last words was a bit soft but nevertheless it caught my ear.

Ohhh, now I am an idiot? However not to pour gasoline into the fire so I chose to apologize instead.

"Okay, sorry…what do you mean then?"

"You promised me to tell me how my sister died! But until today..."

She was right of course. I did promise her that I would explain about what I thought about Fatimah’s death. The appearance of all those bite marks on her body had given me some preliminary ideas on what might happened to her and I was planning to keep my promise to Syafiqah. It was just that I was not sure whether she was ready not only to give a thought but even to hear my theory which was stranger than fiction. In order to make her understand, I need to give her a crash course of what a Luciferian was all about and I know exactly the suitable person for that.

"We are going to meet a friend of mine. He will tell you what you want to know and after that you're going back to Kuala Ketil as being promised"

I put my feet on the gas as Syafiqah and I were speeding toward Georgetown in the rental car. There I was supposed to finally met Cacamerba and Imam Ali for our afternoon tea. My mind was still reeling from the shock after listening to Mr.Lam's story an hour ago.

It was during lunch that I discovered that one of Mr.Lam's workers that night was the same person who ferried Fatimah and Robert with Mr.Lam's boat to Jerejak Island on September 19th for their planned vacation. It got even weirder when knowing that he was also the same person who were called by Robert to ferry them back to the Penang three days later.

Life sometimes stranger than fiction, is it not?

At 11.45pm after almost being choked by 'himself', William Blatty and the three Chinese monks were rushed out from the island towards Penang. The Chinese monks (Master Mak in particular) were such in hurry to get themselves as far as possible from Jerejak that they even refused to spend another night at one of the luxury hotel owned by the Pangs.

William was not as much in hurry to get out as the monks. Unlike the monks whom were consumed by fear after that terrifying night, it was not fear that dominated his feeling, instead it was regret and sorrow that dominated the catholic priest.

Later after flown back to the United States, Mr.Lam and the priest developed a long distance friendship via emails. Feeling grateful by what Mr.Lam and his workers had done that saved his life, a week later William sent him a thank you letter with a cheque of $10,000 dollars (RM31,624.75) written on it. Mr.Lam did not take even a dime from it. Instead, he gave the money to his two workers Isa and Pak Erwin. Isa was ecstatic to receive 95% of the money while Pak Erwin for some reasons only agreed to take 5% before he disappeared.

Also by this time Mr.Lam was beginning to have a change of heart on his belief. Who can blame him? He had witnessed a demon defeating 3 well paid monks and an elite soldier of Christ before the demon itself was defeated just by his very own workers! One in particular whom he had never had much thought of having any abilities except honest and doing normal daily works. An event of such magnitude would changed anyone's perception regardless who that person was.

A book definitely must not be judge by its cover. This is certainly true in the case of 56 years old employee fondly known as Pak Erwin by Mr.Lam and the rest of his family. Pak Erwin actually was an Indonesian who entered Malaysia illegally in 1985 at the age of 34. Not much was known about him except that he was illegally working as a supervisor with a Pahang palm oil plantation in (back in the 80's the enforcement of the immigration laws was not as vigorous as nowadays) when he met his wife, a Malaysian girl who happened to work as a clerk with the same company. His wife then helped him to apply for entry permit into Malaysia and after 7 years of marriage with no kids, Pak Erwin finally received his red identification card which acknowledged him as permanent resident in his new country.

Mr.Lam met Pak Erwin when Pak Erwin and his wife was still working at the plantation. Back then, Mr.Lam managed to secure a contract to build 10 units small houses for plantation management workers. Impressed by Pak Erwin’s diligent and honest traits, Mr.Lam then persuaded Pak Erwin and his wife to migrate to Penang and work for him.

Eventually, Pak Erwin only accepted Mr.Lam’s offer after the unfortunate death of his wife a year after that and moved to Penang. Since thereon, Pak Erwin has become a friend and loyal servant of Mr.Lam and his family. Pak Erwin practically became Mr.Lam’s right hand on all personal matters. He was entrusted to drive the car, take care of the boat, take care of the house when the family went for vacation, look after Mr.Lam’s small children when the parent’s was not home and et cetera. In return, Mr.Lam renovated the back of his house to provide an exclusive room - with its own entry door, toilet and kitchen – for Pak Erwin. Mr.Lam also paid Pak Erwin better wages than Pak Erwin was paid in Pahang. Furthermore, Mr.Lam saw no reason for Pak Erwin to spend a dime because Mr.Lam was more than willing to pay for Pak Erwin’s monthly groceries too.

I remember asking these questions to Mr.Lam during lunch.

“So, this Pak Erwin.. he was nearby when Master Mak performed his first exorcism on the beach of the Island?”

“Yes, he was. He and Isa helped bring the tables and the foods for the deities to the shore for the afternoon ritual” answered Mr.Lam.

“……and except for the flying stone, nothing else happened?”

“Yes”

“…but on the second night few weeks later, Pak Erwin was not in the house with you?” asking as if I seek confirmation from Mr.Lam.

“Yes. He and Isa were 500 meters from the house making sure the boats were ready just in case we need to escape.” answered Mr.Lam.

“..and all hell breaks loose?”

“Hmmm.. now you mentioned it… Yes…” I can see that Mr.Lam was now as intrigued as I was.

“Where’s Pak Erwin now?”

Unfortunately, as told by Mr.Lam, one morning he found Pak Erwin’s room empty with just a note and RM30,043.52 left behind. In his note, Pak Erwin apologized for having to resign from his employment in such hurry. He thanked Mr.Lam for treating him kind all these while and requested Mr.Lam to thank William for the money. Pak Erwin however believed that Isa might needed the money more than he was and therefore he have decided to accept only 5% which equivalent to RM1,581.23 from William. In his final words, he advised Mr.Lam to pursue his new found interest on Islam and to take care of himself and his family.

I looked at Syafiqah who was having her mouth full. She looked back at me with her eyebrow raised. I look back at Mr.Lam with further questions in mind.

“Please tell us in detail how Pak Erwin saved William that night. Was he the one who performed Adzan?”


* * * * * * * *

“Pak Erwin, did you hear that?”

It was windy that night but Isa was sure that the sounds he just heard was coming from an animal. Pak Erwin did not reply but was now standing on the boat with an alarmed face, looking towards the direction of the house his employer and his guests had gone into.

“Can’t figured it out, sounded more like a bull?....” asked Isa again.

“Shhhh.. be silenced” Pak Erwin put his finger on his lips as the growling sound was getting louder and louder around them. The eerie sound started echoing around them.

Isa could have sworn it sounded like a grunt of a bull. He was so tensed with eyes searching of any movement in the darkness.

From the corner of his eyes, a glimpse of several dark figures can be traced moving in the bushes mixed with branches sounded murmuring added to the misery. The feeling of being watched was very overwhelming at this time that he quickly took a cover behind Pak Erwin.

Pak Erwin still in his position, as if scanning the situation and assessing what to do next.

Pak Erwin suddenly broke his silence. Words spoken which at first seems as if to nobody. Then Isa realized that his colleague was in the midst of making contact, communicating with ‘someone’.

“I am Erwin, son of Dja Lubuk, grandson on Raja Tigor, progeny of Datu Nan Kuniang. I can see all of you tho not knowing name each of you . Name yourself each of you oo ancient Djin…”

The sounds and movements around them suddenly stopped. Everything seems at paused as if the rest of the world stopped moving, except the heartbeats of the two men pounding hard.

Then there was the most inhumane voice Isa has ever heard in his entire life.

“Don’t you dare showing off your knowledge here son of Dja Lubuk. You…low life from Sumatera! This .. is.. not .. your .. place ..”

The voice was as deep as Darth Vader from the Star Wars movies but with more fearsome tremble that make Isa’s whole body felt weaken with fear. Fortunately, he was able to cling to the right arm of Pak Erwin or otherwise he would definitely falls to the boat’s floor.

Amazingly, Pak Erwin managed to maintain calmness. Knowing stay focus is the key in overcoming panic, because once panic being shown then they’re done. He just smiled as he continues speaking to the stranger’s voice. Potraying a deceitful smiling face since he needs all the energy to contained panic and scare deep inside him from being shown to face his nemesis.

Smile even you’re hurt, focus even you’re panic and calm even you re’angry. Never show to your nemesis your ill feelings or else, game over.

“All knowledge in this universe is from Allah. Surely an ancient beings like you know that?”

Suddenly, there was an angry grunt followed with a rush of wind as if ‘something’ hitting the boat causing the boat to rock back and forth and almost got it turned over. Isa can see now that Pak Erwin’s lips now moving rapidly as if he was praying, something of which no one else can hear.

Pak Erwin maintained his prayer chants.

Deep inside him….the state of equilibrium must be kept….smile even you re hurt, focus even you re panic and calm even you re angry. Never show to your nemesis your ill feelings or else, game over.

The boat stops rocking and went back to its normal position.

Then the dreadful voice sounded again, this time in much higher tone…more to like one who’s trying very hard controlling his anger, “You despicable half human immigrant from Mandailing! Do you think you can interfere our wills?’’

Followed with cynical laughter with growling at the end.

“I tell you this you worthless half human! Even if your father, grandfather, all friends of yours and those ‘pets’ of yours come from the other side of the sea to your assistance, still you will not be able to stop the like of us who have live for thousands of years!’’

Again, ended with the same cynical laugh with growling at the end unable to hide his wrath no more.

Now the voice now become ‘voices’ and several different supernatural entities were now laughing in unison. Pak Erwin’s expression remained calm eventhough a sudden sign of humiliation and anger flashes on his eyes as the entity beings trying to provoke his anger further.

“Allah is my guide now and He will show me the path. I will not burden my life to my family and friends who now rest in peace in my homeland, and insult no more of my other friends as `pets’ as I am no longer their master’’.

“Laa ilaha illalahu wahdahu laa syarika lah lahul mulkuwa lahul hamdu yuhyi wa yumiitu wa huwa alaa kulli syai-in qadir …” whispered Pak Erwin directed to the entity beings.

Then there was a voice of someone screaming in excruciating pain as though he had just been pelted with fireballs.

“Huuuuaarrgh…why are you going against us?” asked the voices again in singularity.

“Do you know who that white man is? He’s an infidel! He’s the enemy of your country, your race and your religion. Do you know how much blood he had spilled in your homeland?”

“Then…who is he?” Pak Erwin was now in upper hand, curious to learn a bit about William Blatty.

“Aaaaahhhh….you didn’t know?… even for a great man like you still failed to see who he really is…”

“He’s powerful enough to cloud my vision…Tell me who he is then…”

“He is one of our great accomplishment” a voice of man coming from the left suddenly answered Pak Erwin’s question.

“But he did’t know that… he thought he’s against us.. ” a voice of a woman then followed coming from the right…with eerie high pitch laughter.

“He was wrong… he is one of our servants… we will take him tonight..” the voices of many echoed again filling the dark. This time coming from all directions as if recouping their power again.

“Do you wish to see what he had done to your country, oo Erwin from Mandailing? We can show you the past as though as you were there yourselves”

For a second it seems like Pak Erwin was tempted to take up the offer, but a second later he shook his head. He pointed his finger towards the direction of the house as he speaks.

“No, you leave us alone! I don’t want any harm to come to my friend and the rest of them in there”

As he said that, Pak Erwin stomped his right feet to the floor of the boat. The darkness suddenly filled with hallowing scream of pain by hundreds of voices. At this point Isa was so afraid that he was shivering and trembling behind Pak Erwin’s back.

“What does it means with ‘pets’? What’s pets?” Syafiqah was now as absorbed as I was into the story and could not refrain herself from asking Mr.Lam.

“Dunno..” Mr.Lam lifted both his shoulders.

I sighed as I took the liberty to explain to both of them.

“Pets here means ‘saka’ or ‘peliharaan’. Maybe when he was young he inherited one or several djins from his father who inherited it from the grandfather. In most cases the descendants has no choice but to inherit it from their elders. It’s an extremely difficult problem to solve because the saka had been in the body of that person for so long that they become almost one. But based on your story it sounded like Pak Erwin has solved that problem before he migrated to Malaysia”

Isa told Mr.Lam that while still pressing his feet on the boat’s floor, Pak Erwin keep reciting several Quran verses one after another. The howling of pain continues but this time mixed with curses thrown by several voices to Pak Erwin.

“You will pay for this you filthy half human! We won’t forget! We will find you..!”

Echoing…filling the darkness…then the voices disappeared.

Pak Erwin immediately jumped from the boat and started to walk towards the house. He dragged the coward Isa with him and pat his back.

“Let’s go! Mr.Lam and his guests are in danger!”

For some reason, Isa felt much better after receiving the pat from Pak Erwin. Both his feet no longer felt like jelly as he regained some of his guts back.

As they closing into the house, they can hear noises inside the house but not that loud. Carefully both of them slightly opened the door and took a peek to see what was going on inside.

And what a sight it was.

Mr.Lam and the Caucasian guy were rolling together on the floor as the Caucasian guy was gasping for air and with both his hands on his neck. At first Isa thought the guy was putting his hands there on purpose but then he heard Mr.Lam shouted in Malay “Let it go! Let it go!”. The stunned Isa then realized the guy was committing suicide by choking himself.

“I’m going in” said Pak Erwin.

Isa turned his head towards Pak Erwin to say something but Pak Erwin already closed his eyes and silently prayed for a few seconds before re-opening his eyes.

Pak Erwin then look at Isa.

“When I open the door and enter, you must recite Adzan as loud as you can. It will momentarily disabled the demons now possessing the white man and that Chinese guy. Can you do it?”

“Yes.. I think so” answered Isa even though he began to feel his blood rushing from his feet all the way to his head again. Both his feets were about to turn into jelly again.

Pak Erwin then opened the small bag he had always wear around his waist. From in it he took out a small plastic beg. It contained a mixture of salt and black pepper of which Pak Erwin had recited doa on daily basis.

“What’s that?” asked Isa.

Pak Erwin just grinned as he poured the mixture into the palm of his right hand and then grip it tight in a fist.

"It's nothing. Are you ready? Wait until three okay?" said Pak Erwin as his left hand goes for the handle of the door.

Isa nodded, and then..

"One, two, ...."

Inside, William was slowly closing his eyes as he finally accepted his fate to die and go to hell for the sins he had committed in life.

It's true what people said that your past in life does flashes rapidly before your eyes seconds before you died.

He remembered Indonesia in 1998. He and others like him had been instructed to bring trillion of rupiahs to be distributed to hundreds of street thugs as payment to attack and robbed hundreds of houses and premises belonging to the Chinese. He remembers how he grimaced to learn that no only the thugs targeted properties as instructed, they even raped women along the way for fun. He vigorously objected this outcome but his peers on the other hand had told him that collateral damage like that is unfortunate yet unavoidable.

He remembered at 8.00 am he was smoking while standing in front of a building in New York waiting for a lady friend who was supposed to go to work on the 82nd floor that day. He managed to intercept her at the entrance and casually persuaded her to have breakfast with him at the nearby cafe. Then 46 minutes later an American Airline Flight 11 slammed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. He knew for months that it was coming and that there were bombs inside. He was told that the actual American casualties would be limited. It was only later that he learned that the project was meant to be as a pretext to invade Afghanistan and Iraq.

And he remembered Iraq last year. He and his friends were brought in from their retirement to plan an attack that would disintegrate the Iraqis unity. The group said it was necessary to prevent further loss of American soldiers that had been badly affected by the Iraqis insurgents who were united against them. Based on their study on the Iraqis social culture, a team of six men walked into a mosque in the city of Samarra at dawn while disguising themselves in Iraqis military uniform. Half an hour later bombs exploded causing the golden dome of Al-Askari mosque to collapse and destroying three quarters of the structures with it. As planned by him, no one died in the explosions. But to his surprise, what followed later that day is a bloodbath between the syiahs and the sunnis as both groups accused each other which later led to one thousands death on its first day alone. In many months to come, other teams from CIA and MOSSAD continue to fuel the sectarian violence amongst Iraqis which led to the ultimate victory for the American forces.

Yups, he definitely deserves to go to hell.

"Allahuakbar!.. Allahuakbar!"

The door suddenly was opened by someone. In the midst of panic and with head still spinning after being thrown away by an unforeseen force, Mr.Lam was not able to see clearly who had just came to join the chaos.

"Allahuakbar!.. Allahuakbar!"

There was a sudden hurricane blowing inside the house accompanied by what must have been an earthquake. The altar where the candles were lit falls to the floor and crashed in one gigantic thunderous sound. With all the candles in the house went off, the house was suddenly engulfed in darkness with only the moon shining its light through the opened door.

In the darkness he heard something weird. It sounded like there were several other people screaming, groaning and moaning at the same time. He can hear several others male and female voices in the air. Some were shouting obscene words at someone while the rest were screaming in pain. To the best of his recollection, there were only seven of them coming to this place. Who the hell were the rest?

“Asyhadu Allah Illa ha Illalaaaaaaaahh…..”

Mr.Lam recognized that one voice. That sounded like his employee Isa. If that was Isa then where was his best friend Pak Erwin?

“No! No! Stop it! Stop it!”

A woman was heard shouting. She sounded like Fran Drescher from that “the Nanny” television series.

“Why don’t you just die you fucking bastard! Die you worthless mother fucker shit!”

And there was a sound of a guy too. If he had to describe how it sounded then he would say that the voice sounded like a creepier version of Van Diesel.

“I’m blind! I’m blind! …I can’t see a thing!!. …Huuuu.. Huuuuu… It huurrrrttsss..”

Mr.Lam swore that sounded like Miss Piggy from the Sesame Street series.

“Wa ashadu anna Muhammadar Rasulullaaaaah…”

And suddenly there was a moment of silence as the whole world seems filled only by the sound of Adzan as Isa continued the full recital of Adzan which lasted almost 2 minutes. He also heard a second person reciting something in Arabic.

Then Mr.Lam hears a three person conversation in the dark but he cannot details it. He opened his eyes and he can see a figure of someone standing towering two other persons who lay on the floor.

“No you won’t! Huwallaahul ladzii laa ilaaha illaa huwa 'aalimul ghaibiwasy syahaadati huwar rahmaanur rahiim.Huwallaahulladzii laa ilaaha illaa huwal maalikul qudduududsalaamul mu'minul muhaiminul 'aziizul jabbaarulmutakabbir.Shubhaanallaahu 'ammaayussyrikuun.Huwallahul khaaliqul baariul mushawwirulahul asmaa'ul husnaa,yusabbihu maa fis samaawaatiwal ardli wa huwal 'aziizul hakiim”

The guy standing was saying something in Arabic that Mr.Lam could not undertand. As his eyes adjusted itself to see through the darkness, he can now see that the one standing was Pak Erwin and he was lifting his hands as he was praying.

Then there was a voice of someone extremely in pain. The voice was groaning and moaning between words as he forced himself to speak to Pak Erwin.

“I’ll.. be.. back…..”

(For some reason that voice together with its accent and sentence sounded very familiar to Mr.Lam)

Suddenly he himself felt blinded with flashes of bright light with thought it will never be over yet.

It was Isa aiming a bright 9V flashlight to his face.

“Boss, you okay kah?”

“Aiyah! You ahhh…just get that thing away from my face, Isa!”

“Oh sorry…”

At 11:45pm they were all on the boat speeding towards Penang. The rest as Mr.Lam told me, is history.

William spent another week staying at Mr.Lam’s house upon the house owner’s invitation. Mr.Lam suspected that the reason why he accepted his invitation (It was a half hearted invitation actually. Sometimes inviting a foreigner to stay in his house is a Malaysian way of being polite) was because William wanted to express his gratitude to Pak Erwin. But for some reason Pak Erwin treated William differently from the rest of guests that had stayed in his house before. Almost every day William tried to say thanks or something to Pak Erwin but most of the time Pak Erwin just stares at him with outmost loath drawn all over his face. Mr.Lam even heard William saying things in Malay like “selamat pagi Bapak Erwin” and “terima kasih Tuan Erwin” (which was weird) and still Pak Erwin pretended not to hear anything William had said. Why Pak Erwin feels that way against William remains a mystery

Perhaps some are gifted having the extra dimensional sense when seeing others…the sixth sense. Perhaps William had seen the true capabilities of “Tuan Erwin” what others can’t see during the helter skelter.

Mr.Lam chooses not to ask the reason…


(still ongoing)

PLEASE SHOW US THE VIDEO!

This is my last article in relation to the death of JayaNegara. After this I will just concentrate on completing the next chapter of 'Jerejak' novel.

I've been surfing the internet quite actively in the past two days to check on something. The latest unfortunate event that had befallen jayanegara had attracted a lot of visitors to this site and I suspect that all eight blogs followed by arwah is experiencing the same.

Also, Recently I had corresponded with an editor of an online foreign news agency about the same. He (or maybe she?) asked my opinion on the shooting of arwah. At first I suspected him/her as pro-opposition like the rest of the foreign news agency reporting in the cyberspace. It turned out that he/she is quite okay for a foreigner. So I gave him/her the benefit of the doubt of not suspecting the agency being another branch of the Luciferians news network and replied the email. I also told him (or her) that I can't be much help on the matters because I barely have enough time to update my own blog. Therefore I suggest that he/she contacted my blogger friend bapak3 instead for an input

(I just assume bapak3 is more motivated and politically connected to give better input).

Anyway, one of the thing we discussed was the shooting itself. Like what I have stated in my recent post, I was (and still) disturbed by the voice of the guy that was heard yelling "tembak" and "berundur" (at first I thought it was the word "bunuh" but thanks to some good people who posted their comments in this blog, it turned out to be "berundur").

Now, I think it's a no brainer that there's a video clip of the whole incident. The pictures above pretty much self explanatory of the fact that there's a video clip of the whole incident out there.

I would like to urge those who in possession of this video to made it public pronto. It quite embarrassing that the first video on the incident was released by pro-opposition blogger. If the police has a better version of the video that can silent all the accusation now being hurled toward the police, then what's the excuse of keeping the video under the drawer?

Upon carefully listening to the video, I now believe that the voice heard in the video did not belong to arwah. Other then the word "tembak" and "berundur", we can also hear the same voice commanding the shooter to shot the deceased's leg. I now believe the voice belong to a third party and the first thing that came to mind is the voice belong to a police officer.

The second thing that still disturbed me is the span of time between the shots. If the trigger was squeezed during a moment of true panic (like when arwah was in close distant swinging his sword to the shooter) there won't be any pause between shots like that. Instead it would be like "bam! bam! bam!" in very quick succession. But the shots we heard has a tale of someone with enough seconds to aim the gun. By logic if a person has enough ime to aim the gun, then it also means that there was enough time to just retreat and run away. When dealing with lunatic with loss of mental faculty like arwah, it would be more humane to just run away if that what it takes to spare his life. A bullet must only be released as last resort when it was clear that there was a clear and imminent danger to shooter's life.

In my line of career I have interviewed several crazy people before. One memorable case was representing a guy who murdered his own grandfather by slitting his throat. During trial he was shown pictures of the dead grandpa and he was crying like crazy upon seeing what he had done. In fact, he was so remorseful that at first he had insisted to plead guilty and be hanged with. Fortunately the Malaysian legal system doesn't work that way when it come to death penalty offenses.

Please understand that people with mental illness must be tolerated accordingly. Most of the time, they didn't know what they were doing. If we can lend them time to regain their mind, then there's no harm of doing it.

Now, if there's a video out there showing that the danger toward the shooter was imminent, then I say good riddance for the shooting. But if it was the other way around, then the police will simply have to brace for impact and take it as a lesson to better themselves.

Some pro-opposition bloggers now are accusing conspiracy bloggers as "pencacai UMNO". All I wish to say is that I believe none of conspiracy bloggers are being paid to blog. Unlike the entertainment, gossips and political blogs out there, Malaysian conspiracy theory blogs clocked very few visitors per day and therefore has no significant impact on the next general election. Whereas I can't make any statement on behalf of all local conspiracy bloggers, I do believe that most of us Moslems bloggers has placed our main loyalty towards the rise of the black banners.

It's not our fault that the leader of opposition front has all the characteristic of being a servant of the globalist elite of the New World Order. It's not our fault that the political dynasty of the Penang-based opposition party is historically connected to the Lee bloodline in Singapore. It's not our fault that the once so-called Islamic Party had abandoned the Ulama and now sworn their allegiance with Kafir harbi.

It's definitely not our fault that the opposition is now possessing all the characteristic of being the biggest mistake in the history of Malaysia.

We are not pencacai UMNO. Some of us didn't even like UMNO that much. But what else can we do? Where else can we search for hope when UMNO is the only remaining party with a prospect of being used to defend future generation against the coming of New World Order?

When you're left with several bad apples, then strategically speaking the only thing you can do is to pick the best amongst the worst. Yes, UMNO is currently corrupted, but until the time when all of us swore our allegiance to the army Black Banners, UMNO is the only party left we can cling for a borrowed time.

JAYA NEGARA, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?

I just received an email from cacamerba few minutes ago and he told me that the diabetic guy shot dead at the Prime Minister Department was one of my fan.

WHAT?

According to Cacamerba, his blogging name was Jaya Negara and his blog can be found at http://jayanegara1234.blogspot.com/

Here's a snap shot picture of his profile..

Apparently he was also a fan of 'Insan Insan Pendakwah', Abatasa, Mistifiles and several other blogs who frequently discussed paranormal things and the prophecy of the end of time.

In MYKMU several authors has published their opinion that he is PAS supporter but upon brief perusal of his blog I believe he is neither PAS or UMNO supporter. He admire Mahathir, yes - but he despised the Sultans.

I guess one can say he is a troubled man. He wrote 17 lengthy articles in just a month! And the way he wrote tell me how troubled his mind was.

I've seen the youtube video of the shooting and I was quite disturbed to hear someone yelling 'TEMBAK' and `BUNUH' repeatedly after three shots has already been fired. I hope the government will investigate the identity of the person who yelled this before the opposition take it as an opportunity to smear the police credibility.

Whatever it was, lets hope he ends well in the afterlife.

Al-Fathihah.