Inferno

Ireland is often called the land of Saints and Scholars, which is true, but only represents a recent view of this island. Long before Christianity, with its thirst for scribes, lived a conglomerate of Vikings and Celtic's. Even the Vikings were comparative newbies. The Celtic people occupied most of Europe long before the tramp of Roman garrisons trembled the battle fields of the ancient world.

Who preceded the Celts? Surely there must have been someone?

Far back in the mists of time, when Ireland was a blanket of forest, lived a great race of demigods. They ruled over humanity as, 'Tuatha De Danann', which translates into the 'Tribe of the Goddess Danu.' They were half men, half Gods, each with powers that set them apart from the throng of humanity. These were wild, ruthless times where hardly a day went by without some form of bloodshed. They often fought among themselves because, like all powerful beings, they were not all nice guys.

Take Balor for example. He was reputed to have a magic eye in the middle of his forehead, with another at the back of his head. This was so no enemy could catch him unaware. From his magic eye, he could shoot a beam of fire which disintegrated all it touched.  I know a few of you are thinking, Lord of the Rings, but Balor existed long before these books. Why not check him out?

Anyway, Balor was fairly unbeatable, but a witch foresaw Balor being slain by his own grandson. To prevent this from ever happening, Balor locked his only daughter away in a crystal tower, to stop her getting pregnant. Any of you with older kids will know, trying to keep teenage boys away from teenage girls, is near impossible. Take into account the countryside was running wild with Irish Demigod's, and you can guess what happened. Cian, a young member of Tuatha De Danann, magiced himself into the tower. Imagine Balor's surprise when, nine months later, he was grandfather to three bouncing baby boys.

Balor did what comes naturally to a near immortal megalomaniac, he took the boys to the highest cliff in the land and flung the new born children into the crashing waves below.

'That's that,' thought Balor, but the story is far from over. One grandson, Lugh, was saved from his watery grave by Birog, who raised the child as his own son. Decades later, in what’s now County Sligo, Balor faced Birog in battle. At Birog's left hand stood, Lugh, who launched a spear with a mighty heave, skewering Balor's heart.  Balor fell, with his magic eye wide open, burning a bottomless hole into the earth, into which his body tumbled. Eventually, the hole was filled with water and, 'Lough Na Sul' or 'Lake of the Eye', was created, forever entombing Balor.

Or so they thought.

The truth of the matter is that, while Balor's body was indeed locked forever at the bottom of Lough Na Sul, his spirit is free to walk the land on one special day of the year. All hallows eve. For thousands of years, his spirit would rise with the sun, on the thirty first of October, and roam the land.  Only to be chased back to the watery depths as the last ray vanished. Balor enjoyed his days of freedom, even sometimes taking over the body of a human, so he could touch, feel, taste, and savour, the world around him.

In the year 2013, Balor's spirit was soaring above the city of Dublin. He spied a young man at a bus stop and decided his body was just the vessel he needed. Sean McCarthy was a very tired, bored, call centre worker. He was mid-yawn when Balor's spirit invaded his soul. Balor inhaled deeply, flexing the strong young body he was now wearing, as if he were trying on a new suit of armour. Balor glanced at the laptop bag the boy carried before casting it into the gutter.

The others at the bus stop were shocked into silence by the wild look in the boy’s eye. Despite the cold, the young man removed his coat and shoes, throwing them to the ground alongside his bag. Balor came from a time where men were made of hardier stuff than these soft city boys. In the morning drizzle, Balor roared like a lion, and turned his face to the heavens, giving thanks for his hours of freedom. Among the people huddled in the bus shelter was a beautiful, flame haired, woman. Balor felt the blood in his newly acquired body surge with the lust of youth. Slowly he strode toward her. She seemed shocked into a stupor as this strange boy gazed into her eyes. She didn’t move when he took a handful of her hair and sniffed it. Then, a deep growl came from his chest. It was too much for the red-haired woman. She slipped into a faint and slithered to the ground. Balor laughed, as he looked down on the girl. What feeble things these humans have become, he thought.  He strode away into the morning mist; there was time enough for women, he had much to do before sunset.

So began an orgy of the senses. With Balor spirit inside of him, Sean was beyond human. What he wanted he took. He ate and drank like twenty men. He wandered the city, trying to understand all that was new. Balor was sure a plague of madness had gripped the land. Countless people wandered about, talking loudly to no one at all. Some nodded, and shook, with strings hanging from their ears. It was all truly strange. That was when he saw the sign depicting a man smiling happily, but it was the words that drove Balor into a rage. The banner read, Google Eye, will Rule the World.

Shoeless and coatless, Balor burst into Car-phone Warehouse on O'Connell St.

"Bring Google before me, so we can do battle," Balor declared to the man behind the counter, in a commanding tone, over the heads of people in the queue. The sales assistant glanced quickly at him before continuing to explain, to a blue-haired granny, how to make calls on her new phone.

"I command you to bring me, Google of the Magic Eye!" Balor bellowed.

The sales assistant was taken aback with the fury of the strange guy and called into the back room.

"Simon can you deal with a customer?"

From the back came a balding, bored looking, manager. The sales assistant nodded at Balor and said, "Nut job," just loud enough for the people at the front of the queue to hear. Simon looked to heaven and gave a bored sigh.

"Are you Google?" demanded Balor.

"No, I’m Simon. Can I help you, sir?" the manager replied, snootily shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Bring me, Google of the eye," Balor commanded, not wishing to entertain any lackeys, when battle was all that he dreamed of. It was then that Simon understood what this guy was talking about.

"You're on about, Google Glasses, mate. These are them," he said, pointing to the things sitting astride his nose.

Balor was confused, and pointed at the glasses, "This is the magic eye?"

"You could call them that. They possess the power of the internet," Simon said.

"Internet?" repeated Balor.

"Yea, buddy. Internet, you know, the thing that controls the whole frecking world," snapped Simon, having enough of this weird young fella. Simon was getting a feeling this must be a prank by the guys across the road in Harvey Norman, so he grabbed the weirdo by the elbow to chuck him out on the street.

"LIAR! I’m the one true keeper of the eye," Balor roared, shrugging free from the managers grip. He felt the magic eye begin to open, inside his mind. On the body he hijacked, steam began to rise, and heat rolled across the boy’s skin as Balor's rage increased.

"Listen buddy, just get out of the shop, right now, before I call the cops," the manager said, backing towards the counter. Every vein was standing out on the boy’s neck, like taunt rope pulled tight beneath the skin. He had gone an alarming shade of red, and the manager would later tell authorities, “the kid was glowing.”

"CALL YOUR ARMY, GOOGLE, AND ALL SHALL DIE THIS DAY!" Balor roared.

Flames erupted through the boy’s skin, where Balor's warrior marks had once been. Inside the hijacked body, Balor's magic eye opened, and a fountain of flame shot forth. Customers and staff ran for their lives, as Balor went nuclear. It took only seconds, but what happened next would be burned into every witnesses’ mind, forever. A colossal fireball formed around the half-naked man, and then it shot skyward, demolishing Carphone Warehouse in the process.

Left lying in the middle of the ruined shop, was the young man. His jeans were smouldering, his shirt burned clean off him, and he was sound asleep. His entire torso was a web of complicated tattoos, all of them were hot to the touch. It took the ambulance team several hours to wake the lad, and when they did, he insisted the last thing he remembered was waiting for the 46A.