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    The Extermination of Kings Part 1: Journey to the Bay of Bengal
    The Extermination of Kings Part 1: Journey to the Bay of Bengal
    The Extermination of Kings Part 1: Journey to the Bay of Bengal
    Ebook129 pages1 hour

    The Extermination of Kings Part 1: Journey to the Bay of Bengal

    By William J. Ryan

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    About this ebook

    This is a story of two Buddhist Monks who witness the annihilation of their monastery and entire community in the mountains of Tibet. Part I, Journey to the Bay of Bengal, tells of their journey south seeking help and refuge. Forced to leave their loving and peaceful life, they witness man's inhumanity to man and the earth they love. Along the way, they overcome great odds and share their special qualities with those they encounter.
    I apologize that it took me so long to make a better version of this story; so here is the newly revised version of the original story.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWilliam J. Ryan
    Release dateMar 29, 2018
    ISBN9781370255887
    The Extermination of Kings Part 1: Journey to the Bay of Bengal
    Author

    William J. Ryan

    I am William J. Ryan. I am in my 60’s, an autodidact (self-directed learner) and I am dyslexic. I not only suffer from trouble with letters, numbers and spelling of words changing on me, but structuring of sentences will sometimes be backwards. (Don’t worry; I hire someone to edit these stories before I publish them!) I write for the joy of writing, of getting an idea out there. I write in many different genres, children’s stories, historical fiction, fiction, science fiction, crime, and adventure, all the way to anti-religion. I do research on everything that I write about in order to try to be as factual as I can be. I have self – published 35 books and 22 screenplays! Self - publishing is a great way to start, but it is hard to get the audience’s attention. I am also the illustrator of all the artwork within each of my books and most of the cover art. You won’t find many authors out there that include artwork in their stories. More About Me Born in poverty, by white trash sperm and egg donors, my childhood was one horrific nightmare after another, that I would spend the rest of my life overcoming. Freeing myself from this extremely dysfunctional cluster of lost self-indulgent beings, by cutting off all contact with them, was the best thing I ever did. At an early age I chose not to have children for I was not given the skill to raise them and chose not to pass on the gruesome genetic dysfunctions that I had inherited. Writing personal painful events in one of my fictional characters is second nature and comes far far far too easy. In my early 20s, I discovered my reading and learning disability had a name, Dyslexia and I worked as an adult to overcome letters and numbers changing before my eyes. Later in life, as an older adult, I learned the power of reading and writing and became an Autodidact. This affliction never leaves the afflicted. I am glad to trade the curse of Dyslexia for the skills to invent and create people places and events that I see so clearly in my mind’s eye. Every story, every town, every person is 100% real to me and I see every picture on the wall, the view out the window, the streets and homes of the neighborhoods, making them all real to me and I hope the reader. Artfully crafted acquired skills, from a childhood trying to escape the insanity surrounding this small boy and his young developing mind, where he found himself. i.e. A clear example of a Dyslexic sentence. A short stent (seven years), in the criminal banking industry; where I saw V.P.’s change mortgage interest rates higher on loans, to increase the profits for the bank, cheating the customers. When I refused to participate, I was told, “I needed to think of the Bank First”. My response was “I will never do this.” I also witnessed V.P.’s instruct managers to create duplicate false files (and they did) concealing the crimes of the bank during a government audit, so they would pass. When I could find the courage to walk out, (without notice for they did not earn it) I did and changed my life’s path for the better, still looking for that place in my child’s mind, where people were honest, decent and truthful. All of my life up to this point, I could not face my tormentors, because I was beaten down so badly as a child. I finally found my voice and the inner strength to take the bullies in my life on,,, one at a time. With each confrontation, with each face to face battle, I have grown stronger and developed the skills to beat back the bullies of the world, exposing them for what they truly are. There is no one I will not attack back, fending off their aggression, their bullying of the weakest among us all,,, children,,, has become my single life focal point. At this intolerant unforgiving stage in my life, my understanding of man’s history, is continually being rewritten, removing the light of truth, so I pull further away from people. The worst being the so called God Fearing People, that believe they can do anything to anyone and God will forgive their sins so they can do it again. Every one of them has shown me the black oozing bag that is their soul. There is no helping them, so I stopped trying and recoil from the religious. The evil that all religious people do every day, in their God’s name, (genocide, rape of a child, land grab, slavery) show us all that their god must have horns and a pointy tale. This clear understanding of people and the evil that exist just under the skin, emerges in all my stories. A good writer should not create without understanding, but write what they know. I know this evil all too well and I can write and attest to it!!! Favorite Quotes (some) “Just because you are born in shit, does not mean you must stay there.” The quote is from a female pilot from WWII, instrumental in the development of the WASP, name unknown. “A man’s strength is measured by the strength of his enemies” Sioux These quotes are indeed very powerful. My list is very long and grows with every day. Each day I wait for them to come and kill me,,, the Deceivers that I expose. “Hell is other people” From the book NO EXIT by Jean-Paul Sartre 1944. The things he must have witnessed,,, as the Good German Christians gathered up the Jews (the god killers, Jewish Decide) for the slaughter. Oops did I let that slip? Yes the Nazis were unapologetic-ally Christian,,, Gott Mit Uns (God with us) was worn upon every German Christians soldiers belt as they justified their actions with words of Scrupulosity and its madness. Example; “Our movement is Christian” Adolf Hitler. These Christians are not good people and for me this quote helps prove it. “The waste,,, the waste,,, the waste.” These were the last words of the abdicated King Edward VIII of England. Somehow it seems to sum up the best efforts of man on Earth. “I am ashamed to say I am a member of the human race.” said by Charles Bukowski, August 16th 1920 to March 9th 1994. Words I hear in my mind every day as I see more atrocities of man and his foot print upon this small planet. I carry all of these words with me every day and use them to steer me from the rocky shores of others as I set the heading of my ship away,,, off into the setting sun,,, as I was born,,, alone. Personal Hero’s Ferdinand Waldo Demara Jr.; his skills of camouflages and moving from one life to another, immeasurably helped to guide me and re-invent myself for the better. It is with envy I look to him and his life, for he truly is,,, The Great Impostor. This is but a small window into my soul and reveals but a small part of what has made this man what he is,,, good or bad.

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      Book preview

      The Extermination of Kings Part 1 - William J. Ryan

      Extermination

      Of Kings

      Part One:

      Journey to the Bay of Bengal

      Written and Illustrated by William J. Ryan

      Copyright 2018 William J. Ryan

      Published by William J. Ryan at Smashwords

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This book may not be reproduced in part or in whole without the written permission of the author. You may write to William J. Ryan at Post Office Box 666, Dade City, Florida 33526

      If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      All information, theories and any philosophies or hypotheses should be verified by the reader from outside sources before one takes action to protect oneself from any of the impending dooms that are predicted to come within this book.

      All theories and characters in this book (if any) are fictitious and any resemblance to others or actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental unless a true name is used and true quotes are used.

      Table of Contents

      Introduction

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      About the Author

      Other Books by William J. Ryan

      Connect with William J. Ryan

      Introduction

      Although much of the following story is based on fact, fictional characters have been created and their experiences have been told as real-life events. Set in the not too distant future, the story begins with the celebration of the Dalai Lama’s birthday in the Tibetan mountains.

      There have been numerous accounts for many years of the Tibetan people’s struggle to overcome sustained persecution. It has been reported that thousands of monasteries and historical buildings have been destroyed and over one million people have died. It is commonly known that huge numbers of Tibetans are living in exile, including the current Dalai Lama, the leader of the Tibetan people.

      It has also been reported that this geographical region has become a toxic dumping ground and its people have suffered genocide. The area, once rich in natural mineral resources and wildlife, has been ravaged. Sterilization of Tibetan women and late term compulsory abortions are allegedly widespread as well as the persecution and imprisonment of political and religious figures.

      The United States declared Tibet an occupied country under a resolution passed in 1991.

      Chapter One

      Passing

      The view was of a quarter-moon that brightly shone through a small hand-carved stone arched opening with no glass. The clean, fresh, cool night air poured briskly through the opening as the stars shined with all their brilliance. Conducive to a good night’s deep sleep, the soft moonlight reflected off the stone walls and well worn floor.

      The silhouette of someone sound asleep on a small bench was all that could be seen in the room. His name was Woo and he was a Buddhist monk. Ever so slowly, a dark shadow appeared on a stark wall outside the sleeping chamber. It was a petite figure who silently emerged from a long passageway, then paused in the narrow doorway of the monk’s room for a long moment. The individual was carefully holding something in both hands, but it was hidden in the darkness.

      The figure silently, slowly approached the sleeping monk and spotted Woo’s foot, uncovered by the modest blanket. She lightly tickled it. He stirred and turned, and even in the dim light Woo saw the big, bright smile that he knew so well. It was Woohoo his closest friend and lifelong comrade. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. She was holding something in her hands and proudly held it out for him to see. He sat up then and took it, gently unfolding the fine hand-woven scarlet cloth. It was a beautiful new robe made for a special day. She wore one too, as she had made one for both of them.

      Woohoo whispered excitedly, We must hurry, there is not much time. She did not have to see more for she could tell by his beaming smile that he was very pleased. Woo quickly but carefully put on his new robe and lovingly stroked the cloth. She smiled once more and then gently grabbed him by the hand.

      Off they ran without a sound, so as not to disturb anyone else down the wide hallway. It was made of stones laid a thousand years ago, smooth and polished to a high shine from all the footsteps that had stepped there before them. Down through the courtyard they ran, past the pebble garden, which was manicured daily.

      There were large trees off to the side, all trimmed to perfection. They raced through the un-gated archway and up the path into the hills overlooking the monastery. The night sky was bright and clear and the stars stretched from one mountaintop to another.

      Woohoo smiled brightly saying, They are so close I feel I could reach up and touch them with my hand. They gradually worked their way up to the peak of one of the wild flower covered foothills, just in time to see the sunrise. The joy of this day filled their hearts, as well as their faces, with excitement.

      Exhilarated, they began gathering flowers for the big day, a very special occasion. It was also the Dalai Lama’s 80th birthday and everyone had been preparing for a day that promised to be fun and exciting from beginning to end. Woo thought it wrong to pick them at first but Woohoo convinced him it would bring him joy. The flowers were to show their love and esteem for this man and all he had done for his followers.

      Suddenly, in the tall flowery grass at the foothills of the peaceful mountains, they heard popping sounds and people yelling. In the dim morning light Woo and Woohoo turned to see what was going on at the monastery, far beneath them.

      On tip toes, they stepped up onto a large stone to get a better look. Woohoo said, They wouldn’t start without us, would they?

      Woo was straining his eyes to see, No, it’s too early, there is much more time yet.

      Suddenly, they saw men on horses yelling, screaming, and rushing into the courtyard. The Dalai Lama walked out into the morning light of the entryway and spoke to one of the horsemen in the lead, the one who was wearing a noticeable red cap.

      They exchanged words and then the Dalai Lama took two steps back, put his hands behind him and pushed out his chest, looking the horseman square in the face. Then, abruptly, the man on the horse raised his rifle and with one fatal shot,

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