Regis Aeterni Magni

SMLXL

REGIS AETERNI MAGNI BY JOHN CHARLES GALVIN

We are the Great Eternal Kings of the Earth! None may deny us! Does our great armor not grant us Achillian protection?

From the heavens, a great ball of fire tears through the air, engulfing pompous pride.

Rapid legs carry us with swiftness unheralded by all others; to run from predators or run to food. None are as elegantly fleet nor as wise to danger as your Eternal Kings and Queens.

Searing flames strike down inflated egos.

As darkness engulfs the land, your Kings and Queens come to life. We navigate through pitchest-black to sate our omnivorous appetites. What others eat . . . we desire. What others discard . . . we consume. What others digest . . . we devour. Everything sustains us.

An explosive rush of air purges with chemical firestorms.

350 million years ago ours where the first to stretch wings upon open air and take flight. Since then, many have stolen the birthright! We, however, shall forever be the Great Eternal Kings! First Fliers!

Aerosol-fueled conflagrations singe wings, enforcing gravity.

Before the massive lizards thundered across The Great Continent, we stood upon the genetic apex of all life on Earth. Now, as the hairless apes build and create as no other species ever has, we still stand unchallenged! The Great Eternal Kings! And long after the tinkering apes find decimation at the hands of their sleeping metal giants and titanic mushrooms . . . we shall still rule!

A blueish-white blaze bursts downward, consuming the eternal rulers.

Our most noble of forms thrives under all adversities. We know no poison; ingested, airborne or otherwise, we have not, cannot or will not adapt to. Our noblest of genetic codes shifts and re-shapes easier than all others for survival. Nothing may invade our biosystems! Others falter with sickness and pestilence, We thrive. We survive!

Bright brilliance and fanged flames give way to charred husks.

But we do not rule for these reasons alone.

Jets of fire boil bodily liquids.

We rule because our children give us power to do so.

Inflamed blankets engulf imposing attitudes.

We rule . . . Waves of wildfire consume carnivorously. . . . For we are legion!

* * * * *

"There's another one!" With speed of thought a thumb ignites a disposable lighter sparking it to life. "Quick!" Tommy's red eyes line up the roach with an aerosol can. An ethereal blue flame leaps from the no-frills nozzle, consuming the fleeing cockroach within chemical fangs. The insect rolls on its back, legs and antennae burnt and shriveled.

"Yes!" Palms slap overhead in victory. Tommy's voice resonates with glee. "Incoming! Behind you!" Moe spins, his hair-spray can spitting its heavy chemical load which bursts to life as it hits the Zippo lighter in his other hand. With burning eyes and shriveled wings the roach plummets to the ground, splashing in a thick chemical pool on the dirt-glazed floor. Cocaine swift hands smoke past filth-heavy clothes, spraying volatile liquid trails. A single tossed match ignites the chemical track, racing blue and yellow flames along a liquescent raceway. Flames devour roaches, carapace and all.

"Yeah! That's seventy-two for me!" Moe celebrates his kill with a hard swig of Tennessee's best handmade whiskey.

"Bullshit Tommy! I only got fifty-four! How the fuck do you have so many more than me!"

"Skill, asshole, skill." Over the strains of an ear-bleeding garage band’s ill=produced single, the two continue to argue and burn, never exhausting quips or prey.

The Kings and Queens care not, for every one burnt, stomped or boiled, another births hundreds. And many years from now, when Tommy and Moe lie cadaverous upon the warm, damp earth, The Great Eternal Kings shall feast upon human flesh . . . and thrive.

None shall deny them.

THE END