Hello
I’m Eric Josephson. Thank you for taking the time to visit this page. This work is still being written and edited, with revisions and additions being made regularly. With a passion for Sci-Fi, horror, and fiction, I’m always on the lookout for new books and movies that push the boundaries of reality. Some of my favorite contemporary authors include, Jonathan Maberry, Dennis E. Taylor, Steven King, Scott Sigler, Seth Ring, James S. A. Corey, Travis Deverell “Shirtaloon”, Rachel Lavin, Andy Weir. Furthermore, I am a devoted enthusiast of the older authors, many of whom are no longer with us. Throughout college, I had John Steakley’s Armor in my backpack. I had the pleasure to meet Karl Edward Wagner once a long time ago and found him amazingly down to earth. I could go on, but won’t bore you.
My current work, which is my first genuine effort, revolves around capturing the essence of a recurring nightmare from my childhood. I harnessed it, but now the book hardly holds any trace of its original story-line from those dreams. The image of the creature lingers in my mind as I try to capture its essence in my writing. The Chronicles of a Man Named Destruction is the expected title for this book.
The Chronicle of a Man Named Destruction is a complex tale that takes place across centuries, beginning in the bronze age and extending all the way to the present day. Living a difficult and heartbreaking life, a woman, Srine, experienced the unimaginable pain of losing her children to different tragic circumstances, causing her to develop a bitter outlook on the world. One night after losing multiple children to famine and the brutal world, uttered, “… a curse so foul; it was heard in worlds beyond this one. Creatures of complete darkness in distant corners of the universe turned their heads and took notice of these words of desecration. In it, she offered all of herself. Her wish carried so much cruel sincerity, her hate was so pure and her sorrow was so complete, that something even darker nodded its many tentacled head and silently accepted the exchange. In the trance that she had put herself in, repeating her curse like a mantra, Srine somehow knew, as a coldness flushed her body, that a deal had been made. However, she had no idea of the terms.”
Despite being years past menopause, she becomes a mother to an impossible baby. She names the baby Scrios after a beautiful blue flower local to her area. The baby, sickly and blue, startled the midwife when it cried, as she had believed it to be stillborn.
The story goes forward for centuries with Scrios and his unnaturally long life. He becomes known eventually as the Blue King and other names.
Protection from the creature’s powers is exclusive to its natural sister, and those descended from her. To find safety, she and her husband’s family flee to a foreign land. They, the family, know of the creature, but even they are not sure what it is. Even generations after Scrios’ sister and family fled the area, the creature continued to haunt their dreams. The family meticulously preserves their history, passing it down through generations via oral tradition and later documenting it in archives. These records span over three thousand years and include information about Scrios as well as accounts of direct battles fought against it.
In a battle from ancient times, there is a possibility that they achieved victory, but the absence of any written accounts leaves the story untold. However, the family knows that vivid nightmares of this creature, and the chilling threats it made to annihilate them still haunt them. With no direct confrontation, they painstakingly collect evidence of historical actions, noting the unmistakable traces of corruption that bear a striking resemblance to the sorrow Scrios brings.
The family feels a deep sense of responsibility. Their legacy they feel is to protect the world from this creature, even though anyone they told, would dismiss the story as pure fantasy. The Gaelic word Scrios, which originated thousands of years ago, underwent a significant semantic shift. Once it was the ancient name of the Blue Bell flower, now its meaning is “destruction”.
E.J. Josephson