The Creature Suit
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THE CREATURE WITHIN 24: AMAZONA LIVES free porn video
CHAPTER 24: AMAZONA LIVES
When my vision and senses cleared, I was still in the hut. More interesting, my head and shoulders were still resting on the thighs of the woman behind me. This woman … if this contact persisted, I was going to have to learn to pronounce their names. I have been reluctant to try their names for fear of butchering the pronunciation and offending them. I think, whatever was being determined here, I was gaining more points than my clumsiness could damage.
I looked up at her with a weak smile and it was then that I realized the sensation of hands on my body. The other women were still stroking my thighs, pussy, stomach, and breasts. It was very comforting and soothing, not at all strongly for the purpose of arousal. I felt slight shudders and quakes through my body still remaining from my orgasmic explosion, and their hands were serving to affect an excellent soothing response.
I asked how long I had been out and she smiled sweetly, one hand moving from my breast and nipple to my cheek. “Not long … only moments, really.”
“The old man … what did he say?”
“He is still here, getting ready for the final part.” I gave her a look that expressed about as much as my shoulders and body sagging limply did. She chuckled, “You have been through a lot for us. We thank you for all you have done to save us and then to go through this, but … this is big, this is important.” I nodded my acceptance. I may not have felt so willing, but these people had a hold of my heart that I couldn’t begin to explain in any way that might sound reasonable. “The last part is almost ready. It is a sweat lodge. There, you will find yourself; your new spirit will become known to you. There is no other way; you and it must find each other completely, united, become one.”
That made no sense to me. Perhaps if I was Native American, it might. I had read about the use of sweat lodges to find your a****l spirit. Maybe this was similar to that. Whatever the spirit was that I was supposed to possess, we would be finding each other soon.
I asked her about the ritual just completed. “Maybe I am dense or too overwhelmed by all this, but can you explain the part of the ritual I just completed?”
She smiled at me, knelt beside me, then put her hand on the side of my face. “You are an example of how powerful our spirits are, Annie.” I was shocked and my face apparently showed it. She smiled comfortingly down at me. She looked around her, assuring of our privacy and continued. “Yes, we remember the woman you were when you came to us.” She patted my cheek and kissed my forehead. “It must seem strange how we put so much faith and belief in our traditions, the a****ls, the jungle, and all the spirits that inhabit everything and are intertwined in our existence. To most people here, they have forgotten who you once were and only remember the spirit you have taken on. That is the way for us. It keeps our life simple and manageable in the face of the forces outside our part of the jungle. You coming back to save us has restored or strengthened our belief in our way of life. Simply, our spirits will take care of us. It is why, what is happening now, this ritual, is so important to all of us.” She paused in reflection. “You must discover the rest of what this new spirit is to you. For it to take hold, you and the spirit must come together and accept each other. But, about yesterday … the ritual with the snakes represents what is occurring within you. The female snake had to accept you as a vessel, first. When she gave birth within you, it was the spirit being born, resurrected as the old man would say. The other snake represents taking away portion of your being that no longer have purpose for your new being. That isn’t physically parts of you, but …” she was struggling with a description, “… but things that might limit you, like past guilts or failures or painful memories and experiences that would limit your new self.” She smiled down at me. “It is difficult to explain.”
I smiled back up to her, trying to absorb all that she was presenting to me. The Annie part of me should have been discounting all this as primitive, jungle mumble-jumble. But, it wasn’t. All the Annie part of me was doing with it was speculating what it all might mean for me. That my civilized, educated mind was not rejecting it, but instead processing it, was as bewildering as what all this might lead me to. I had accepted the Celina part of me and it had been the driver for me to risk everything to help the people. I had accepted the b**st inside me and it had provided me with gifts and talents. So, why wouldn’t I also accept this new thing. I just needed to find out what it was.
The old man re-entered the hut. Upon seeing me awake and communicating, he clapped his hands in pleasure and announced, “It is time.” His excitement was overflowing and contagious. Even I felt a stir of wonder for the final determination. The women helped me stand and after only a couple of steps, I stopped to jump up and down on my injured leg and verified what I felt … no pain. I moved my injured shoulder in circles, and apart from some stiffness, found no pain there, either. I happily led the way outside. There I was again met by a crowd, this time including many young and older c***dren.
I spotted the two boys who assisted me and I moved to them, taking them in my arms, thanking them. The people immediately around them giving them claps on the shoulders and back. Their faces beamed at the individual attention from me. As I looked into the faces of the people and gave recognition to their attention and greetings, I found myself feeling a surge of pride and desire to be more of a part of these caring, authentic, and selfless people. To them, everything that happened and was achieved was for the tribe, for each other. The self was rewarded in little ways like my recognition of the boys, the people letting them know they recognized and agreed with my acknowledgement. Civilization, for all its gifts and comforts, creates a drive to have more, a drive to be better than someone else, a drive to be recognized so you are more important, a drive to ultimately care more for things and luxury. These people are so completely different: their life is hard and dangerous; they often work long and struggle to have enough; they live simply and uncomplicated, but they experience so much in real life. Can a life be more gratifying than what these people live?
I felt a touch to my elbow and was directed to a converted hut with window openings covered. I entered the hut, again with people crowding around the doorway, providing me with an opening to the hut. Inside was the old man, a fire burning hot, apparently having been stoked for much of the day with rocks at the bottom, nearly white with heat. The other woman came in after me and closed the door. There were three mats spread on the dirt floor, equally spaced around the fire pit. He indicated the mat for me as being the one furthest from the doorway. Once settled, the room was dark except for the coals of the fire spreading a red glow over the room and ourselves. He lit a tightly wound bundle of dried foliage some different kinds. He brought it up to his face and used his hand to move the smoke toward his face. He handed it to me. I nodded, did what he did and tried to hand it to the other woman, but she refused.
He said, “This is for you. We will stay with you, but the dreams are for you. The dreams will show you many things, things that might have already happened, things that might still need to happen, and things that will only have meaning in that they represent parts of you. The steam and the smoke will take you to the dreams. You experience and live the dreams. They will tell you what you need to know.”
I leaned toward him, “You mean about the spirit?”
“About everything. Everything you need to know will be shown to you.”
Everything I need to know? It will be shown to me? Was this what the sweat lodges were like? Was the a****l spirit made known to them through visions?
The steam started rising from the rocks as the man poured water over it. It hit me fast, my pores opening quickly and soon I was covered in sweat, the drops running off my back, dripping down my front. I watched as if in slow motion as drips formed on my nipples, hung for a tantalizing moment, then dropped to my legs below. The smoke was having its effect, apparently. It was mellow and peaceful, like the marijuana I tried smoking years back. I was swaying, but I don’t know that I was aware of it. It was like an out of body sense that I was swaying to some unheard rhythm that existed only in my ears.
Then, they started … images in front of me, but I knew my eyes were closed. I tried opening them, but I couldn’t. But, it didn’t seem to matter and I gave up the effort, satisfied with the vision I had from behind my eyelids. I saw my husband, a happier time that quickly gave way to the bad times. I saw my hand reaching out to him as he left that room, leaving me alone with those men. I knew what was going to happen and I reached out, in the dream and in real. I didn’t reach him, I couldn’t reach him, despite leaning forward as far as I could.
I felt my self being laid onto my back. It was eerie. I was physically being laid down, but I also saw it in the dream. I saw dirt falling on me. The desert! I was being buried … The dream continued like that, retelling my experiences in bits and pieces, snapshot moments telling the story. Jake and Bobbi, the resort, coming to the villages, meeting Thor, Wolf and Preta, the airplane and Sam. This time I felt and watched my body changing from the inside, seeing the tendons, muscles, fingers, feet, ears, and eyes changing. I relived in some detail the dolphins, the Seal attack on the d**g lord. And, my attack on the rebels here in the villages.
Then it got weird. I recognized the test with the snakes, but it wasn’t the same test. I was on the mat like before, but the snake was massive, long and large around. An Anaconda? It had to be to be so massive. The female and male snakes didn’t go into me for conception and birthing … the snake inseminated me! It wrapped itself around me, not too tightly, but controlling me. His body entwined between my legs, spreading them far apart, his body moving through my legs, rubbing me with its body. Then, what is that? My vision sees it … outside myself … as I feel it, I see it from a different perspective. I watch as I feel … I see his penis and I am stunned. He had a double penis, though only one entered me at a time.
I then saw myself giving birth, but it wasn’t just snakes coming out of my open vagina. Snakes, pumas, leopards, a****ls of many kinds, including finally a human baby, then another. They were all the size they should be after birth. The dream gave no explanation … I just saw them coming out of me, my body working to give birth each separate time. I was looking right at my vagina, stretched wide each time a birth occurred, my raised head visible in the background, my belly distended, my face a mask of contortion as I bear down to push each birth out. Then, after giving birth, the a****ls suddenly full-grown all turned around and lined up to fuck me, one after another.
I saw visions of places I didn’t recognize: a village fighting men with weapons, chasing them through jungle to a field where there was an army; a large clear-cut section of the jungle; high mountains with another village of armed men; jungle chases and battles. But, all of them were with a****ls fighting with me. Some gave images of other woman alongside me, all with bows and panthers or jaguars at their sides. The visions of conflict gave way to peaceful, tranquil times around fires, laughing and sharing with other women and their large cats.
All these visions faded. They had come in bits and pieces of images, snapshots of events and locations. When they stopped, it was disquieting, even in the dream state I was in. Slowly, a light seemed to appear in the center of my mind’s eye and it gradually spread out to the edges. It was unfocussed, as if looking at something through a fog or a frosted window. There was an impression forming, but it was not defined. It grew slowly, forming more and more of something that might just become something. At first, it looked similar to a large ‘X’, but that wasn’t quite it, either. The top arms of the ‘X’ had lines perpendicular to them. It slowly grew into a shape that looked more and more recognizable, until I was beginning to realize I was watching a human figure taking form. The vision was reminiscent of something progressively getting closer and closer. It started out small and grew larger, and as it grew larger, it grew more distinct.
I watched the vision clear to a human figure, shaded dark as if the light was behind it. The person was standing open legged, the arms stretched upward and to the sides, which gave the original impression of the ‘X’. As it came closer and the edges became more refined, the figure was holding a bow in the left hand, a recurve bow like mine. The top end of the bow had a feather tied to it. The right hand held a heavy staff that by scale would be about 5 feet long. One end was worked to a sharp point, the other end was blunt but ornamented with some feathers and strips of hide or fur.
I watched intently for the details. I had the sense that everything I had been shown to this point was the prelude, this was what I needed to know, this was going to tell me what I needed to know about myself, at least if the old man was right.
As the vision cleared and focused, it became evident to me that the image was of a woman, and soon it was obvious, and a naked woman. The woman was strong and confident, it showed the body, the strength in legs, arms, and body. I watched as the image moved up the body, to the left arm and the bow. It looked like my bow, the feather was large but not quite like an eagle’s feather. Then the staff was shown. It was wood, a dark wood that was worked smooth, the tip sharp, and the end tied with the same feathers and strips of fur tied into grooves near the top. As the image pulled back to show the upper part of the person, it seemed that it was of the back of the head, but I knew it wasn’t, it was just that the long, dark hair was covering the face and upper part of the body. The woman bent forward, then threw her head back, flipping her hair behind, revealing her face and upper body, still hidden by shadow gradually lightening so her features slowly became recognized. Tied in her hair was another large feather, but it was different in color and shape. The light seemed to move from behind her to the side and around to fully illuminate her features. The vision focused from her feet, to her strong legs, to her flat, hard stomach, and breasts. Tattoos … on the left breast … my tattoos. The vision moved up and I was looking at me, my face breaking into a snarling declaration of something unheard. She … I … was screaming something while holding her staff and bow in the air. As I thought this was the end of the vision, I jumped as the vision pulled away quickly, pulled far away to reveal two black a****ls, my Wolf and Preta, running head-long toward her, the vision following behind them, closer and closer to her as they got closer and closer. She … I … stopped screaming and stood strong, the left foot moving ahead of the other as if getting ready to use the bow. Her head stayed up and forward, directly at the two a****ls charging her until … the a****ls were nearly on her and they leapt into the air, charging at full speed, their bodies driving unstoppable in the air.
The vision shifted to her right side, as if there were a second camera prepared to take over the impending collision. Her left leg as forward, her right leg braced, her arms still up and holding the weapons, now shifted slightly forward. The a****ls, simultaneously, slammed into her … but they didn’t! They, Wolf and Preta, fused into her, me. I turned to me in the vision. She took a step toward me, then another, and I could see she was talking, saying something to me. She snarled at me and I saw long, developed canine teeth in her mouth. Her mouth was the only thing I could see and she was still saying something, but I realized she was repeating the same word. I tried to read her lips, I focused, I stared … Am-a-zo-na …? What is amazona? Is this what I was supposed to see? Is this what I was supposed to learn?
I shouted out; maybe I screamed, because I was suddenly scooped up and taken outside of the sweat lodge. The air suddenly felt cooler, despite it still being the same hot, humid air of the jungle. I was forced to drink water and more was poured over my prone body. When I opened my eyes, my vision was fussy, unfocused, but I found Wolf and Preta, anxiously shifting next to me. I hugged them to me, then greedily drank the water presented.
As my temperature returned to normal, my senses did, as well. I was assisted to a sitting position, then to standing as they assessed my condition. The crowd was still assembled and filled the open areas between the huts. The old man was nearby, anxiously waiting for the indication from the women that I was okay. I saw him approaching and I sighed heavily.
“I thought the sweat lodge was the last part …”
The woman hugged me and several nearby joined her in chuckling as my arms, shoulders and back were stroked. “That was, he just wants to hear about your visions.”
The women released me and I straightened my back as he stepped in front of me. Both a****ls were sitting at my sides so close they were touching my legs. He said that each vision was unique to the person and the spirit or spirits that were within the person. Most who thought or who were thought to have spirits proved not to be so during the testing. He asked if I had visions; I nodded. He then asked to hear about them in detail. We sat in a close circle and I was provided more water and food. I didn’t know how long I had been in the lodge, but the light appeared to be getting weaker, the shadows longer.
I decided to be as truthful about the visions as I could. The early description about being buried and brought back to life drew immediate exclamations from the people; the description of being in an airplane and falling from the sky to die and come back to life, as the vision depicted it, generated confusion of what an airplane was, but even more exclamation later. The whole time, the old man was quiet, listening with full attention to my face and eyes.
The visions about the future produced noticeable interest from him as he leaned forward. Then, again, it might only have been his anticipation for the end visions, which could be the most telling as my assessment now was telling me. I was becoming as anxious to have these visions interpreted as he appeared to hear them, his facial expressions shifting constantly as the final visions were shared.
I found it interesting how my witnesses split their apparent focus on my visions. My description of birthing a****ls who then turned to mate with me drew mild surprise from the old man, but the woman shared knowing glances and smiles. The old man, however, was far more attentive to the final descriptions. The old man’s helper brought out three items and I pointed to them immediately.
“Those are exactly what I saw in the vision.” The staff and bow, my bow, were handed to the old man. The ornaments were attached exactly as I had seen them.
“The other feather, the one in your hair, it was the same as these.” He wasn’t asking a question. My first thought was that I must have misinterpreted the vision, but it was clearly different in my mind. I shook my head.
“No, it wasn’t. It was similar in size but it was straight, not curved, and it was a lighter color.” He held up the other item given to him by the young man. It was the feather I saw in my hair. “Yes! That is it.” A murmur went through the people as it became clear that the old man had tried to trick me.
He smiled and patted my knee. “You know what the feathers mean, the difference?”
I knew. Maybe not as completely as he might explain, but I knew. I held the staff and bow in my lap. He handed the other feather to one of the women who fastened it into my long hair on the left back side of my head. The feathers looked similar, but I knew they weren’t. The one in my hair was eagle. The ones on the staff and my bow were owl. Eagle and owl … I remembered from my years of growing up in the American Southwest that tourist traps often passed modified, large owl feathers as eagle feathers as tourist Indian gifts. The eagle feathers were flat and smooth stemmed. The owl feathers had a natural curve that would be taken out by ironing or heating, then colored to appear like eagle, but owl feathers had a notch in the spline that the eagle feathers didn’t. I also remembered that to the Native Americans, the eagle feathers signified good and the owl bad, so using owl to look like eagle was a contradiction of significance in the culture. The significance of the placement of the feathers was not lost on me. I was now the personification of opposing forces in the jungle: as Celina, I was the bearer of life and harmony in the jungle; apparently, I was also the messenger of death and retribution for the jungle. What I still didn’t know was the meaning behind what I had lip-read in the vision.
He patted my leg, again, pleased by my understanding. He looked at me solemnly, “Who are you?”
I watched his eyes watch mine, then I let them drop to my lap. How do I answer that? Different people have known me by three names lately: Annie, Celina, and Cat. “Celina.” It was the name the people knew me by. He continued to look at me intently. I could tell that he was half pleased because he too recognized that the people saw me that way. He lifted the staff still in my hand.
“What did your vision tell you?”
Tell me? Amazona … that’s a name? That’s me? That was the spirit he felt inside me! He smiled at the recognition coming across my face. I repeated the name, but there was an air of unfamiliarity in the way I spoke it. I could see that it confused him, while everyone else rejoiced at hearing the name identified to me. A woman leaned into him and whispered in his ear. She and others of the people remembered that I was not originally of the jungle. He looked at her, but agreed to do what she wanted.
He explained it to me, which is a weird sensation to have someone explain to you who you are, what your existence means to the collective that is everything that makes up the large jungle. He reminded me of the vision of my a****ls leaping into me, fusing with me, and he stated that I would experience changes. I thought he sensed what had already happened to me, but that wasn’t it. He meant MORE changes. He touched the soles of my feet, my nose, eyes, and ears. I nodded. He took my hands by the fingers and look intently at them.
“Show me, again.” How did he know these things? I extended my claws and the people around us smiled. He beamed. He asked if my teeth hurt. I shook my head, but he smiled. He knew there were more changes coming. The vision of the canines in her mouth flashed in front of me, again. I recalled a joke of Jenna’s and I frowned; I just hoped I wouldn’t sprout a tail.
We stood and he put the staff in my right hand, the pointed end on the ground, the feathers at the other end fluttering next to my shoulder. The entire group went quiet with a new air of sudden deference. The staff was a symbol of Amazona. It was tooled from the hardest woods found in the jungle and represented the unbreakable will and determination of the people who struggled and made the jungle theirs.
He turned to stand in front of me, still smiling. I looked into his eyes. They were dark and deep, like pools that contained so much that was unknown to all but him. They seemed to direct me and I raised my arms high into the air above me and I felt the ‘X’ that I saw in the vision.
The people of the Guarani were hushed, even the c***dren. Then, the old man raised his voice, “AMAZONA! Amazona, Queen of the Amazons!” The bones, muscle fibers, and tendons inside me vibrated and pulsed as the people chanted, “Amazona … Amazona … Amazona …”
As I stood among the people, the staff of Amazona in my right hand, my bow in my left, I felt a sense of purpose and belonging flowing to me through these people. I held both high in the air, again, drawing cheers, chants, and exclamations from the people and it was reinforced to me that this was the very scene in my vision. With their exclamations and tribal chants ringing in my ears, two thoughts came to my mind: in the end, we only regret the chances we don’t take, the experiences we don’t pursue; and, the beginning of real life, real experience, can only be found and appreciated when pursued to the end of our comfort zone, to the end of what we know and understand.
My life, it seems, has been a series of pursuits to the end of my comfort zone, each time pushing that point of comfort further out to encompass more experience. Was this to be the greatest of the challenges to pursue, the greatest chances to take, that would take me to the heights of experience and realization of life? I had much earlier committed to myself and the people to pursue the rebels and attempt to drive them far away to secure their safety and the jungle’s security. That should be challenge and risk enough, but I wondered. I handed my staff and bow to the two boys who had assisted me and they carried them proudly after me as I made my way through the crowd, hugging, touching, and thanking as many individually as I could. I had the sense that they were feeling the same; the need to touch me and thank me for coming to them and acting for them. Perhaps it was the combination of my spirits that I felt more alive than ever through these people; and, they felt they were still alive and would remain so because of me. Celebration of life and seeking vengeance, two sides of one person … but a person made up of many things.
I would organize myself tonight in preparation for leaving in the morning, assembling my weapons and determining how many of which arrows to bring with me. I would need some food and water for both myself and my a****ls for the journey to the next village to the north where the rest of the rebels were gathered, which should take about two days. I was sure of finding the scent and trail of the rebel who the people had allowed to ‘escape’. I would harass him in the following night, keeping him tired. He was injured and would make poor time traveling the jungle by himself. I considered all that dispassionately, as if I was planning a journey of little consequence. I considered that, but the feeling and my anticipation wasn’t a disregard for the dangers or the risks, but rather a feeling of my capabilities, proven both with the Seals and more recently in releasing these villages. Now being named and identified as Amazona, their revered warrior goddess of the jungle, I felt a power, drive, and determination to be more than I ever was.
I would be returning to these villages after driving the rebels from these jungles. I had every confidence that I would. Then what? Stay here, live this life I found so fulfilling, so rewarding and meaningful? I wanted to. I wanted to very much. This is where I could be me as I have become, part a****l within being human. But, what about Sylvia and Adrian, Sam and Jenna, Bobbi and Jake? I can’t just disappear … that I will figure out after I return. I will have a lot to figure out …
THE END
Thanks for reading.
When my vision and senses cleared, I was still in the hut. More interesting, my head and shoulders were still resting on the thighs of the woman behind me. This woman … if this contact persisted, I was going to have to learn to pronounce their names. I have been reluctant to try their names for fear of butchering the pronunciation and offending them. I think, whatever was being determined here, I was gaining more points than my clumsiness could damage.
I looked up at her with a weak smile and it was then that I realized the sensation of hands on my body. The other women were still stroking my thighs, pussy, stomach, and breasts. It was very comforting and soothing, not at all strongly for the purpose of arousal. I felt slight shudders and quakes through my body still remaining from my orgasmic explosion, and their hands were serving to affect an excellent soothing response.
I asked how long I had been out and she smiled sweetly, one hand moving from my breast and nipple to my cheek. “Not long … only moments, really.”
“The old man … what did he say?”
“He is still here, getting ready for the final part.” I gave her a look that expressed about as much as my shoulders and body sagging limply did. She chuckled, “You have been through a lot for us. We thank you for all you have done to save us and then to go through this, but … this is big, this is important.” I nodded my acceptance. I may not have felt so willing, but these people had a hold of my heart that I couldn’t begin to explain in any way that might sound reasonable. “The last part is almost ready. It is a sweat lodge. There, you will find yourself; your new spirit will become known to you. There is no other way; you and it must find each other completely, united, become one.”
That made no sense to me. Perhaps if I was Native American, it might. I had read about the use of sweat lodges to find your a****l spirit. Maybe this was similar to that. Whatever the spirit was that I was supposed to possess, we would be finding each other soon.
I asked her about the ritual just completed. “Maybe I am dense or too overwhelmed by all this, but can you explain the part of the ritual I just completed?”
She smiled at me, knelt beside me, then put her hand on the side of my face. “You are an example of how powerful our spirits are, Annie.” I was shocked and my face apparently showed it. She smiled comfortingly down at me. She looked around her, assuring of our privacy and continued. “Yes, we remember the woman you were when you came to us.” She patted my cheek and kissed my forehead. “It must seem strange how we put so much faith and belief in our traditions, the a****ls, the jungle, and all the spirits that inhabit everything and are intertwined in our existence. To most people here, they have forgotten who you once were and only remember the spirit you have taken on. That is the way for us. It keeps our life simple and manageable in the face of the forces outside our part of the jungle. You coming back to save us has restored or strengthened our belief in our way of life. Simply, our spirits will take care of us. It is why, what is happening now, this ritual, is so important to all of us.” She paused in reflection. “You must discover the rest of what this new spirit is to you. For it to take hold, you and the spirit must come together and accept each other. But, about yesterday … the ritual with the snakes represents what is occurring within you. The female snake had to accept you as a vessel, first. When she gave birth within you, it was the spirit being born, resurrected as the old man would say. The other snake represents taking away portion of your being that no longer have purpose for your new being. That isn’t physically parts of you, but …” she was struggling with a description, “… but things that might limit you, like past guilts or failures or painful memories and experiences that would limit your new self.” She smiled down at me. “It is difficult to explain.”
I smiled back up to her, trying to absorb all that she was presenting to me. The Annie part of me should have been discounting all this as primitive, jungle mumble-jumble. But, it wasn’t. All the Annie part of me was doing with it was speculating what it all might mean for me. That my civilized, educated mind was not rejecting it, but instead processing it, was as bewildering as what all this might lead me to. I had accepted the Celina part of me and it had been the driver for me to risk everything to help the people. I had accepted the b**st inside me and it had provided me with gifts and talents. So, why wouldn’t I also accept this new thing. I just needed to find out what it was.
The old man re-entered the hut. Upon seeing me awake and communicating, he clapped his hands in pleasure and announced, “It is time.” His excitement was overflowing and contagious. Even I felt a stir of wonder for the final determination. The women helped me stand and after only a couple of steps, I stopped to jump up and down on my injured leg and verified what I felt … no pain. I moved my injured shoulder in circles, and apart from some stiffness, found no pain there, either. I happily led the way outside. There I was again met by a crowd, this time including many young and older c***dren.
I spotted the two boys who assisted me and I moved to them, taking them in my arms, thanking them. The people immediately around them giving them claps on the shoulders and back. Their faces beamed at the individual attention from me. As I looked into the faces of the people and gave recognition to their attention and greetings, I found myself feeling a surge of pride and desire to be more of a part of these caring, authentic, and selfless people. To them, everything that happened and was achieved was for the tribe, for each other. The self was rewarded in little ways like my recognition of the boys, the people letting them know they recognized and agreed with my acknowledgement. Civilization, for all its gifts and comforts, creates a drive to have more, a drive to be better than someone else, a drive to be recognized so you are more important, a drive to ultimately care more for things and luxury. These people are so completely different: their life is hard and dangerous; they often work long and struggle to have enough; they live simply and uncomplicated, but they experience so much in real life. Can a life be more gratifying than what these people live?
I felt a touch to my elbow and was directed to a converted hut with window openings covered. I entered the hut, again with people crowding around the doorway, providing me with an opening to the hut. Inside was the old man, a fire burning hot, apparently having been stoked for much of the day with rocks at the bottom, nearly white with heat. The other woman came in after me and closed the door. There were three mats spread on the dirt floor, equally spaced around the fire pit. He indicated the mat for me as being the one furthest from the doorway. Once settled, the room was dark except for the coals of the fire spreading a red glow over the room and ourselves. He lit a tightly wound bundle of dried foliage some different kinds. He brought it up to his face and used his hand to move the smoke toward his face. He handed it to me. I nodded, did what he did and tried to hand it to the other woman, but she refused.
He said, “This is for you. We will stay with you, but the dreams are for you. The dreams will show you many things, things that might have already happened, things that might still need to happen, and things that will only have meaning in that they represent parts of you. The steam and the smoke will take you to the dreams. You experience and live the dreams. They will tell you what you need to know.”
I leaned toward him, “You mean about the spirit?”
“About everything. Everything you need to know will be shown to you.”
Everything I need to know? It will be shown to me? Was this what the sweat lodges were like? Was the a****l spirit made known to them through visions?
The steam started rising from the rocks as the man poured water over it. It hit me fast, my pores opening quickly and soon I was covered in sweat, the drops running off my back, dripping down my front. I watched as if in slow motion as drips formed on my nipples, hung for a tantalizing moment, then dropped to my legs below. The smoke was having its effect, apparently. It was mellow and peaceful, like the marijuana I tried smoking years back. I was swaying, but I don’t know that I was aware of it. It was like an out of body sense that I was swaying to some unheard rhythm that existed only in my ears.
Then, they started … images in front of me, but I knew my eyes were closed. I tried opening them, but I couldn’t. But, it didn’t seem to matter and I gave up the effort, satisfied with the vision I had from behind my eyelids. I saw my husband, a happier time that quickly gave way to the bad times. I saw my hand reaching out to him as he left that room, leaving me alone with those men. I knew what was going to happen and I reached out, in the dream and in real. I didn’t reach him, I couldn’t reach him, despite leaning forward as far as I could.
I felt my self being laid onto my back. It was eerie. I was physically being laid down, but I also saw it in the dream. I saw dirt falling on me. The desert! I was being buried … The dream continued like that, retelling my experiences in bits and pieces, snapshot moments telling the story. Jake and Bobbi, the resort, coming to the villages, meeting Thor, Wolf and Preta, the airplane and Sam. This time I felt and watched my body changing from the inside, seeing the tendons, muscles, fingers, feet, ears, and eyes changing. I relived in some detail the dolphins, the Seal attack on the d**g lord. And, my attack on the rebels here in the villages.
Then it got weird. I recognized the test with the snakes, but it wasn’t the same test. I was on the mat like before, but the snake was massive, long and large around. An Anaconda? It had to be to be so massive. The female and male snakes didn’t go into me for conception and birthing … the snake inseminated me! It wrapped itself around me, not too tightly, but controlling me. His body entwined between my legs, spreading them far apart, his body moving through my legs, rubbing me with its body. Then, what is that? My vision sees it … outside myself … as I feel it, I see it from a different perspective. I watch as I feel … I see his penis and I am stunned. He had a double penis, though only one entered me at a time.
I then saw myself giving birth, but it wasn’t just snakes coming out of my open vagina. Snakes, pumas, leopards, a****ls of many kinds, including finally a human baby, then another. They were all the size they should be after birth. The dream gave no explanation … I just saw them coming out of me, my body working to give birth each separate time. I was looking right at my vagina, stretched wide each time a birth occurred, my raised head visible in the background, my belly distended, my face a mask of contortion as I bear down to push each birth out. Then, after giving birth, the a****ls suddenly full-grown all turned around and lined up to fuck me, one after another.
I saw visions of places I didn’t recognize: a village fighting men with weapons, chasing them through jungle to a field where there was an army; a large clear-cut section of the jungle; high mountains with another village of armed men; jungle chases and battles. But, all of them were with a****ls fighting with me. Some gave images of other woman alongside me, all with bows and panthers or jaguars at their sides. The visions of conflict gave way to peaceful, tranquil times around fires, laughing and sharing with other women and their large cats.
All these visions faded. They had come in bits and pieces of images, snapshots of events and locations. When they stopped, it was disquieting, even in the dream state I was in. Slowly, a light seemed to appear in the center of my mind’s eye and it gradually spread out to the edges. It was unfocussed, as if looking at something through a fog or a frosted window. There was an impression forming, but it was not defined. It grew slowly, forming more and more of something that might just become something. At first, it looked similar to a large ‘X’, but that wasn’t quite it, either. The top arms of the ‘X’ had lines perpendicular to them. It slowly grew into a shape that looked more and more recognizable, until I was beginning to realize I was watching a human figure taking form. The vision was reminiscent of something progressively getting closer and closer. It started out small and grew larger, and as it grew larger, it grew more distinct.
I watched the vision clear to a human figure, shaded dark as if the light was behind it. The person was standing open legged, the arms stretched upward and to the sides, which gave the original impression of the ‘X’. As it came closer and the edges became more refined, the figure was holding a bow in the left hand, a recurve bow like mine. The top end of the bow had a feather tied to it. The right hand held a heavy staff that by scale would be about 5 feet long. One end was worked to a sharp point, the other end was blunt but ornamented with some feathers and strips of hide or fur.
I watched intently for the details. I had the sense that everything I had been shown to this point was the prelude, this was what I needed to know, this was going to tell me what I needed to know about myself, at least if the old man was right.
As the vision cleared and focused, it became evident to me that the image was of a woman, and soon it was obvious, and a naked woman. The woman was strong and confident, it showed the body, the strength in legs, arms, and body. I watched as the image moved up the body, to the left arm and the bow. It looked like my bow, the feather was large but not quite like an eagle’s feather. Then the staff was shown. It was wood, a dark wood that was worked smooth, the tip sharp, and the end tied with the same feathers and strips of fur tied into grooves near the top. As the image pulled back to show the upper part of the person, it seemed that it was of the back of the head, but I knew it wasn’t, it was just that the long, dark hair was covering the face and upper part of the body. The woman bent forward, then threw her head back, flipping her hair behind, revealing her face and upper body, still hidden by shadow gradually lightening so her features slowly became recognized. Tied in her hair was another large feather, but it was different in color and shape. The light seemed to move from behind her to the side and around to fully illuminate her features. The vision focused from her feet, to her strong legs, to her flat, hard stomach, and breasts. Tattoos … on the left breast … my tattoos. The vision moved up and I was looking at me, my face breaking into a snarling declaration of something unheard. She … I … was screaming something while holding her staff and bow in the air. As I thought this was the end of the vision, I jumped as the vision pulled away quickly, pulled far away to reveal two black a****ls, my Wolf and Preta, running head-long toward her, the vision following behind them, closer and closer to her as they got closer and closer. She … I … stopped screaming and stood strong, the left foot moving ahead of the other as if getting ready to use the bow. Her head stayed up and forward, directly at the two a****ls charging her until … the a****ls were nearly on her and they leapt into the air, charging at full speed, their bodies driving unstoppable in the air.
The vision shifted to her right side, as if there were a second camera prepared to take over the impending collision. Her left leg as forward, her right leg braced, her arms still up and holding the weapons, now shifted slightly forward. The a****ls, simultaneously, slammed into her … but they didn’t! They, Wolf and Preta, fused into her, me. I turned to me in the vision. She took a step toward me, then another, and I could see she was talking, saying something to me. She snarled at me and I saw long, developed canine teeth in her mouth. Her mouth was the only thing I could see and she was still saying something, but I realized she was repeating the same word. I tried to read her lips, I focused, I stared … Am-a-zo-na …? What is amazona? Is this what I was supposed to see? Is this what I was supposed to learn?
I shouted out; maybe I screamed, because I was suddenly scooped up and taken outside of the sweat lodge. The air suddenly felt cooler, despite it still being the same hot, humid air of the jungle. I was forced to drink water and more was poured over my prone body. When I opened my eyes, my vision was fussy, unfocused, but I found Wolf and Preta, anxiously shifting next to me. I hugged them to me, then greedily drank the water presented.
As my temperature returned to normal, my senses did, as well. I was assisted to a sitting position, then to standing as they assessed my condition. The crowd was still assembled and filled the open areas between the huts. The old man was nearby, anxiously waiting for the indication from the women that I was okay. I saw him approaching and I sighed heavily.
“I thought the sweat lodge was the last part …”
The woman hugged me and several nearby joined her in chuckling as my arms, shoulders and back were stroked. “That was, he just wants to hear about your visions.”
The women released me and I straightened my back as he stepped in front of me. Both a****ls were sitting at my sides so close they were touching my legs. He said that each vision was unique to the person and the spirit or spirits that were within the person. Most who thought or who were thought to have spirits proved not to be so during the testing. He asked if I had visions; I nodded. He then asked to hear about them in detail. We sat in a close circle and I was provided more water and food. I didn’t know how long I had been in the lodge, but the light appeared to be getting weaker, the shadows longer.
I decided to be as truthful about the visions as I could. The early description about being buried and brought back to life drew immediate exclamations from the people; the description of being in an airplane and falling from the sky to die and come back to life, as the vision depicted it, generated confusion of what an airplane was, but even more exclamation later. The whole time, the old man was quiet, listening with full attention to my face and eyes.
The visions about the future produced noticeable interest from him as he leaned forward. Then, again, it might only have been his anticipation for the end visions, which could be the most telling as my assessment now was telling me. I was becoming as anxious to have these visions interpreted as he appeared to hear them, his facial expressions shifting constantly as the final visions were shared.
I found it interesting how my witnesses split their apparent focus on my visions. My description of birthing a****ls who then turned to mate with me drew mild surprise from the old man, but the woman shared knowing glances and smiles. The old man, however, was far more attentive to the final descriptions. The old man’s helper brought out three items and I pointed to them immediately.
“Those are exactly what I saw in the vision.” The staff and bow, my bow, were handed to the old man. The ornaments were attached exactly as I had seen them.
“The other feather, the one in your hair, it was the same as these.” He wasn’t asking a question. My first thought was that I must have misinterpreted the vision, but it was clearly different in my mind. I shook my head.
“No, it wasn’t. It was similar in size but it was straight, not curved, and it was a lighter color.” He held up the other item given to him by the young man. It was the feather I saw in my hair. “Yes! That is it.” A murmur went through the people as it became clear that the old man had tried to trick me.
He smiled and patted my knee. “You know what the feathers mean, the difference?”
I knew. Maybe not as completely as he might explain, but I knew. I held the staff and bow in my lap. He handed the other feather to one of the women who fastened it into my long hair on the left back side of my head. The feathers looked similar, but I knew they weren’t. The one in my hair was eagle. The ones on the staff and my bow were owl. Eagle and owl … I remembered from my years of growing up in the American Southwest that tourist traps often passed modified, large owl feathers as eagle feathers as tourist Indian gifts. The eagle feathers were flat and smooth stemmed. The owl feathers had a natural curve that would be taken out by ironing or heating, then colored to appear like eagle, but owl feathers had a notch in the spline that the eagle feathers didn’t. I also remembered that to the Native Americans, the eagle feathers signified good and the owl bad, so using owl to look like eagle was a contradiction of significance in the culture. The significance of the placement of the feathers was not lost on me. I was now the personification of opposing forces in the jungle: as Celina, I was the bearer of life and harmony in the jungle; apparently, I was also the messenger of death and retribution for the jungle. What I still didn’t know was the meaning behind what I had lip-read in the vision.
He patted my leg, again, pleased by my understanding. He looked at me solemnly, “Who are you?”
I watched his eyes watch mine, then I let them drop to my lap. How do I answer that? Different people have known me by three names lately: Annie, Celina, and Cat. “Celina.” It was the name the people knew me by. He continued to look at me intently. I could tell that he was half pleased because he too recognized that the people saw me that way. He lifted the staff still in my hand.
“What did your vision tell you?”
Tell me? Amazona … that’s a name? That’s me? That was the spirit he felt inside me! He smiled at the recognition coming across my face. I repeated the name, but there was an air of unfamiliarity in the way I spoke it. I could see that it confused him, while everyone else rejoiced at hearing the name identified to me. A woman leaned into him and whispered in his ear. She and others of the people remembered that I was not originally of the jungle. He looked at her, but agreed to do what she wanted.
He explained it to me, which is a weird sensation to have someone explain to you who you are, what your existence means to the collective that is everything that makes up the large jungle. He reminded me of the vision of my a****ls leaping into me, fusing with me, and he stated that I would experience changes. I thought he sensed what had already happened to me, but that wasn’t it. He meant MORE changes. He touched the soles of my feet, my nose, eyes, and ears. I nodded. He took my hands by the fingers and look intently at them.
“Show me, again.” How did he know these things? I extended my claws and the people around us smiled. He beamed. He asked if my teeth hurt. I shook my head, but he smiled. He knew there were more changes coming. The vision of the canines in her mouth flashed in front of me, again. I recalled a joke of Jenna’s and I frowned; I just hoped I wouldn’t sprout a tail.
We stood and he put the staff in my right hand, the pointed end on the ground, the feathers at the other end fluttering next to my shoulder. The entire group went quiet with a new air of sudden deference. The staff was a symbol of Amazona. It was tooled from the hardest woods found in the jungle and represented the unbreakable will and determination of the people who struggled and made the jungle theirs.
He turned to stand in front of me, still smiling. I looked into his eyes. They were dark and deep, like pools that contained so much that was unknown to all but him. They seemed to direct me and I raised my arms high into the air above me and I felt the ‘X’ that I saw in the vision.
The people of the Guarani were hushed, even the c***dren. Then, the old man raised his voice, “AMAZONA! Amazona, Queen of the Amazons!” The bones, muscle fibers, and tendons inside me vibrated and pulsed as the people chanted, “Amazona … Amazona … Amazona …”
As I stood among the people, the staff of Amazona in my right hand, my bow in my left, I felt a sense of purpose and belonging flowing to me through these people. I held both high in the air, again, drawing cheers, chants, and exclamations from the people and it was reinforced to me that this was the very scene in my vision. With their exclamations and tribal chants ringing in my ears, two thoughts came to my mind: in the end, we only regret the chances we don’t take, the experiences we don’t pursue; and, the beginning of real life, real experience, can only be found and appreciated when pursued to the end of our comfort zone, to the end of what we know and understand.
My life, it seems, has been a series of pursuits to the end of my comfort zone, each time pushing that point of comfort further out to encompass more experience. Was this to be the greatest of the challenges to pursue, the greatest chances to take, that would take me to the heights of experience and realization of life? I had much earlier committed to myself and the people to pursue the rebels and attempt to drive them far away to secure their safety and the jungle’s security. That should be challenge and risk enough, but I wondered. I handed my staff and bow to the two boys who had assisted me and they carried them proudly after me as I made my way through the crowd, hugging, touching, and thanking as many individually as I could. I had the sense that they were feeling the same; the need to touch me and thank me for coming to them and acting for them. Perhaps it was the combination of my spirits that I felt more alive than ever through these people; and, they felt they were still alive and would remain so because of me. Celebration of life and seeking vengeance, two sides of one person … but a person made up of many things.
I would organize myself tonight in preparation for leaving in the morning, assembling my weapons and determining how many of which arrows to bring with me. I would need some food and water for both myself and my a****ls for the journey to the next village to the north where the rest of the rebels were gathered, which should take about two days. I was sure of finding the scent and trail of the rebel who the people had allowed to ‘escape’. I would harass him in the following night, keeping him tired. He was injured and would make poor time traveling the jungle by himself. I considered all that dispassionately, as if I was planning a journey of little consequence. I considered that, but the feeling and my anticipation wasn’t a disregard for the dangers or the risks, but rather a feeling of my capabilities, proven both with the Seals and more recently in releasing these villages. Now being named and identified as Amazona, their revered warrior goddess of the jungle, I felt a power, drive, and determination to be more than I ever was.
I would be returning to these villages after driving the rebels from these jungles. I had every confidence that I would. Then what? Stay here, live this life I found so fulfilling, so rewarding and meaningful? I wanted to. I wanted to very much. This is where I could be me as I have become, part a****l within being human. But, what about Sylvia and Adrian, Sam and Jenna, Bobbi and Jake? I can’t just disappear … that I will figure out after I return. I will have a lot to figure out …
THE END
Thanks for reading.
Yvette
- 24.01.2023
- 34
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