Almost 500 years ago, Spain began to conquest for wealth and riches in Mesoamerica. When arrived he ordered that his ships be burned, and so there could be no return. Cortez set out to win control of Central America, but soon it became obvious that there was a problem. The moment he set his men against a small Mayan escort of their priests. Hernan Cortez encountered the magic of Mayan Shamans, he had difficulties with defeating the Mayan armies. He promised wealth beyond measure to the one with a solution. Seven days later, a group of 9 Shamans. He at first was sceptical, yet they humoured him by showering Cortez with praise and calling him ‘King’ and ‘Metal Chief’.
Once he told them to get to the point they told him that they would enchant the weapon of his choice, the powerful enchantment gave the shielding of the gods to his army. All they asked for in return was the Temple of the Sun, and secured territories under the dominion of the god Chacu. Cortez asked them to enchant his sword, with no amount of disdain for the pagans hidden behind his teeth, and wiped out the remainder of the Mayans under the Aztecs, and then the Aztecs themselves. Instead of fulfilling his promise to bestow the temple and Chacan territories; he slayed the 9 shamans and enshrined the promised temple to himself. Knowing of their coming death, they put Cortez and his treasure under a curse, a curse that would carry to the end of worlds; The Curse Of The Lying King. 19°25’32. 2″N 88°05’18. 1″WOr at least so wrote my Grandfather shortly before setting out on his crazy adventure. He never came back, and when the above text was shown to the established scientific community it was universally agreed upon that he had gone insane and was probably in some poor alligators belly. The thing was, nobody in my family agreed. Not only would he be terribly unappetizing but also we really loved and respected our good, old Gran’pa Wesley. For quite some time, our family theorized about what could of happened to good, old Gran’pa Wesley.
So I set out on a expedition to the coordinates Ol’ Wesley put in his journal. I got a plane to Mexico city, spent the fortune on a taxi to Felipe Carrillo Puerto and then borrowed a boat to the Chacu-Xercatl temple. I got off the boat and everything seemed fine, but when I was passing through what looked like a french orchard, I thought I heard someone or something following me. Not thinking much of it, and knowing it better to feign ignorance either way; I kept going regardless. I soon reached the temple and spent some time navigating my way towards the center. I then saw another smaller complex and decided to head towards it. Once inside, I found a spanish sword sticking out of a stone in the middle of tall, stone courtyard. I heard a twig crack and lo! Behind me was a demonic creature holding an ancient Mayan weapon: the Atlatl. It raised the enormous weapon over its head and rasped something incomprehensible in a language more evil and ancient than Wesley’s dentures. I did the only sane thing and ran for the hills, that were not that far from the temple. For whatever reason, I wasn’t being pursued. I lost my T-shirt among the brush when I was pushing through what I thought was a shortcut to the boat. I instead found the river again at a different spot. I looked around for something familiar, and saw an island I remembered passing by on the boat and dove in. Almost there, my arms were exhausted from swimming against the current. Suddenly, I was being pulled down by something. I looked down in the water and out of the murky brown came something so hideous I couldn’t help but gag rather than show any signs of fear. I realized that my foe wasn’t so big and I kicked the frog-like lizard in its squinty eyes. I swam quick for the shore and lay on the rocks and slept. Little did I know, I was being watched. After some quick yet blissful sleep, I was woken up by the most awkward face I have ever seen.
Some weird shaman dude decided that I was a good potential pupil, and I woke up to him telling me that I was in his ‘domain’. He then proceeded to showing me his camp and telling me where I can sleep. Shortly after, we returned to the the rocky part of the island. There, he pronounced the most beautiful speech I have ever heard. Explaining how I was under the Curse of the Lying King, that would pit the forces of the dead and dark supernatural against me. He ended with with telling me that the curse would take effect with the setting of the Sun and the ominous and foreboding words “May your death be swift and painless”. Early the next morning he came up with a plan, as if he never predicted my death. We will go to Australia, for some odd reason, and bring to our aid the most powerful forces and allies and ‘use all these barrels to blow up the servants of the Lying King”. Next thing, he begins to train me. I never had such a humiliating workout in my life. After much refining of my swimming technique, I succeed in pleasing his condescending ways. That night we had a very enlightening talk about the supernatural around the fire. Melbourne“It must be green, okay?” – DJ Ruby Rhod from Fifth Element (1997)
The next morning we departed for Mexico City. We stayed the night in a saloon and had the time of our lives until two in the morning. We took the next day to recuperate and have some quality time around town, swimming, eating fajitas, dining in expensive white-tourist sombreros and left for the airport early the next morning. It was an uneventful flight. The food was mediocre at best, and frequent trips to the bathroom at high turbulence made my brief flight on Lufthansa a regrettable inner-pandemonium. You see, strange things happen when I am left alone with my thoughts. You also might be wondering why I was taking a German airline from Mexico City to Melbourne, Australia. That was all thanks to some jedi-mind tricks by Quetzolerantl (That was the Mayan’s name), who was strangely fond of Germans. As the flight dragged on, I began to question my existence as I oftentimes do. Anyhow, my flight to Melbourne concluded safely. I made sure to tell the flight attendants, smiling, that we had landed in Melbourne, Australia. Not Frankfurt. The looks on their faces as it dawned on them were as priceless and rare as the reality of the situation. Not that I didn’t feel bad for them. We landed in Melbourne at sometime late in the evening.
As I went down the stairs, I saw Quetzolerantl waiting for me. I checked my watch and knew why he was fuming; we were late to the birthday party of a friend of his. His only friend apparently, as all the others has been dead ‘traitors and disappointments’ for three hundred years. “This is going too far” I said to myself. “First…the world was a normal place devoid of magic; and then, Mayan shamans and their stupid curses get involved. ” It was a solemn moment, accepting all this. All this, and the fact that I was either insane or the great majority of this planet doesn’t know something I do. “Oh, why did have to go inside that infernal temple?” I whispered under my breath. There was no way he could of heard me, yet he responded with “Humans do things regardless of the consequences, and they then complain and blame it on the world”. I decided that I would remain silent for the duration of the way to his friend’s. After hailing a cab in front of a cab driver, who was beckoning to us, we drove downtown to this odd place called ‘The Cosmos Café’. He later explained that the reason he ignored the beckoning cab driver was because laws ‘more holy than (I) could understand’ wouldn’t let him trick or fool anyone who had invited him. After doing some voodoo magic on the cab driver, Quetzolerantl followed me into the cafe. I immediately felt the strong atmosphere, I felt empty and cold inside. The musty floorboards groaned with my weight whenever I took a step with a sound that gave me recollections of Jurassic Park. I was apprehensive, this was no normal cafe. There were three bearded men in the corner, drinking from green-steaming mugs.
They were looking at me with a silent, grim fury that befit vikings in Valhalla. There was also another foreboding quality to their stares; it was envy. I could never explain how I knew, but their solemn yet magnanimous looks communicated that they believed that life was unfairly kind to me, that they deserved, loved and desperately needed what I effortlessly was given. Quetzolerantl was chatting with the barkeeper, the barkeeper looked me over with a quick glance and said “Hey! What ya’ staring at?” “Calm down, Freddo my boy” Quetzolerantl squirmed in his chair uncomfortably “He’s with me… he’s my new pupil, I just need to train him in Older Ways before I could use his help to obtain my revenge” His eyes grew bigger “ My eight brother will soon sleep peacefully”I wish I had put more thought into what he had just said before it was too late. He waved me over before I could ponder over what he said, he told me to sit down and introduced me to Fred. “Tim, this is Freddo… Freddo meet Tim”Fred gave me a glass of the same steaming and vivid green liquid. Fred noticed my unhappy expression and added “ I know it’s addicting, but if you only drink it once you should theoretically reap the benefits without becoming dependant on it” I looked back at the three men; they were giving me calculating looks. I took a cautious sip, and the universe widened. I was accelerating through space as comprehension of things not meant to be understood sieved through my consciousness. Slowly, yet surely, my mind would be stretched so wide that there would be no concept of the self.
The whole universe would soon be enveloped. Stars rushed past my perspective like adrenaline fuelled thoughts. The normally undetectable grey film that kept the universe uniform was getting closer and closer. I began to feel the ear-splitting static press against the edges of my consciousness one last time as the eternal blackness rushed at me. I was an inch from going deaf in the alternating and deep silence when I came to. “You went far… dangerously far” said one of the three men, it was the first and the last time I heard one of them speak. I rested my head on the bar counter and slept a deep sleep. Hooded Jerockee“ ‘You’ he said, ‘are a terribly real thing, in a terribly false world ” – Emilie AutumnI was afraid to get up.
Quetzolerantl kept chatting with Fred. All that was left from that exp-erience was a memory of the quick, bitter agony when I knew who I was. The stars remained as mysterious as they once were and I felt the loss of the whole universe at the back of my mind. Someone knocked loudly on the door. A hooded man burst through as soon as Fred said “Come on in” and grabbed both Quetzolerantl and me by the collar and dragged us outside all the while screaming and making sounds as if he was in pain.
This essay has been submitted by a student. This is not an example of the work written by our professional essay writers. You can order our professional work here.