THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT MATERIAL.
Includes: Violence, Gore, Suicidal thoughts, Cannibalism.
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The Bandits of Algeris
Date: 19 January 1964
Subject: Conclusion of the field study in Algeria
Dear Professor,
I have mostly completed my field expedition within Algeria, all thanks to your friend, Dr Mansur. We delved into Islamic Occultism, read many tomes and now have enough material for my doctoral thesis. I am still amazed that there is still so much less in terms of research on Islamic occultism in Western Scholarship. I really feel like one of those pioneers and would like to thank you again that you accepted my field of study and helped me.
I will return back to the college and will start writing my thesis properly before sending it to you for correction. In the meantime, I wanted to share something of interest with you, Dr Mansur also agrees.
A week back, after our work was done, and I had free time, Dr Mansur took me for an educational trip to central Algeria, especially near the mountains. He said Algeria was not always this big, it just used to be land at the coast till the French invaded and now, just two years after independence, it is big. He wanted to see if there are Berber or Ottoman relics at the former border of Regency of Algiers.
During our trek, we discovered these ruins, some kind of fort. It was some Ottoman fort, maybe to guard the border. It would have been mundane, if not for all these scratches on the walls. We went closer to see the walls having human claw marks, the door taken down and having claw marks too. The interior of the fort is overgrown by desert vegetation and filled with snakes. But what was most interesting, and a bit horrifying, were fragments of bones everywhere; femur, fingers, you call it and Janissary caps, you know, those famous ones. The fort was used by Janissaries, but Dr Mansur was sure no Ottoman or French map showed it. We inspected the barracks and found this diary, its contents in Ottoman Turkish. We went back to Algeris and started translating it. It was a diary of some Janissary, a lot of pages were damaged by blood but last few pages are fine, and this is where we enter the disturbing territory.
I am enclosing a translation to you, I written on paper. Please check and reply with your thoughts.
Your student,
Adrian
30th day of Shawwal of the 1018th year after the Hijiri
The ships, after weeks of travelling through the Bahr-i-Safid and avoiding any ships of Avrupalılar, finally docked at the port in Algeris, a rather long journey for a small expedition into the desert. We were told that some unknown tribes or bandits were attacking the trade caravans in the çöl for months now, evading and even killing the Sipahis sent after them by the Agha of Odjak before sending his own Janissaries after them, though now suddenly he sent a message for help, and here we are, a group of men from an Orta near the Danube River, here in the desert to die.
We were received by a Subhasi who immediately took us to a camp outside the city, at the entrance of the desert where the Odjak were preparing for the campaign. The Yayabaşı of the camp called our Odabaşı for a quick briefing while we rested in our camps. I already miss the Wallachian air; the air here is coarser, and sand is also going to be a problem.
At night, before writing the account, we sat around with our Hocabaşılar, who arrived with us in this campaign, for the daily sermon during which he told us that the sacred month Zi'l-ka'dé was going to begin the next day, the month of that of a truce, though we were not going for a war, but to defend against whatever was attacking the people.
Now that everyone is asleep, I do wonder what really happened, that even Janissaries here could not handle themselves.
1st day of Zi'l-ka'dé of 1018th year after the Hijiri
After the Fajir prayers, we began our sweep. This was the first time I climbed upon a camel. Honestly, I was only trained in horses. I wobbled a bit to the amusement of my peers, all laughing and joking. But the Janissaries of the Odjak were not pleased by our behaviour. They just told us to shut up and focus on the sweep. I wonder what really has gotten into them. Did some bandits really scare them?
The plan, as the Odabaşı told us, was for us to sweep the area near Algeris to make sure no bandits infiltrated near the city. Right, some measly bandits being near the capital made the Agha’s stomach churn, or maybe he is a pious man and cannot take any sinners near him. The main attacks, however, were happening between the domain of our empire and the lawless desert. The plan was to build a fortification near the Atlas Mountains, far from the desert but still not green, and look for any caravan in distress.
We, after hours, reached the spot where the fort was to build, the laborers from the local Arabs and Berbers already building the foundation. We made our camp and started watch duty.
By night, I walked around the earthworks being done, talking to some labourers to find out what really was going on. The local Berber workers told me that the bandits raided some nearby village and, I don’t think ‘killed’ is the right word as they defiantly didn’t mean it. A large number of people were missing while those found were in horrible state, bodies eviscerated, faces removed and a lot looked like were even eaten. I know the bandits were bad but are they really this hated that people are making up such outrageous rumors about them.
I reported to Odabaşı about this, all these rumors since they will spread to others and may create panic. He told me that he knew about this, the other Odabaşıs and even the Yayabaşı said the same thing, though he too shares the same doubt as me. Surely there are no cannibals, those tribes are in the deep south and never come here and despite the savagery among these Berbers, none of them were cannibals, and those kinds of people would have been finished off by the Sipahis themselves.
Or maybe this is true, who am I, a Greek Janissary in Wallachia to tell these desert dwellers?15th day of Zi'l-ka'dé of the 1018th year after the Hijiri.
It was true.
I cannot tell what sight I saw; Rehman puked his breakfast at the sight, while Odabaşı was too shocked to even say a word. Zighan, the latest village that became a victim of the bandits, sent a man on a camel to warn the local Sipahis for help, and the latter notified us before engaging with the enemies. None of it went well.
The village itself is now a butcher’s shop. Men and women, children were torn apart. Limbs all over the ground, bodies were too disfigured to be even talked about. One man had his entrails torn out, and it was eaten. Eaten, someone ate his entrails while he was still alive. Others were in even worse shape. I cannot even record. Children especially got targeted, body parts half-eaten everywhere. While our cemaat was too disgusted to even remain inside the village, the Janissaries from the Odjak remained inside, inspecting everything. They didn’t even flinch, like they were thoroughly desensitized by it.
“We have seen this for dozens of months now; you will get used to it.” One told us.
The Odabaşı is in his tent, writing a report back to our Çorbacı back in Wallachia about everything that is happening here; he may even consider asking for the entire Orta to be deployed here. I don’t really know the reason, but some say the number of attackers was one hundred since the Sipahis who went to the village were massacred just some steps south, also eaten alive by the Bandits, in between battles. I cannot even fathom that these bandits found time in between the fight to eat those Sipahis.
Khalid, one of the Odjak Janissaries I befriended, told me that these acts of eating the foe looked more like desperation than sacred tactics. Like some savage tribes in the Deep South who eat their enemies to instill fear, but they do it ritually, cleaning the bodies, cooking the parts. These bodies were feasted upon by dozens, like they were a pack of starved dogs.
I have started to have doubts about whether we are even dealing with bandits or savages who have somehow crossed the desert.
30th day of Zi'l-ka'dé of the 1018th year after the Hijiri.
More labourers have joined the fort-building process; the chief architect is confident it will be completed by the next Ramadan. The Agha has sent more supplies and men since the amount of attacks has increased. Six more villages were wiped out, and the denizens faced the same fate as before. We are now contemplating the scenario where these bandits, if they even are, will attack small towns next and now are deploying Sipahis to every corner of the border to look out for them. Fortunately, our entire Orta is on their way, and Janissaries from Misir have been called to help us guard the place.
Two more forts are being built in the Far West while work on this one has been sped up. Us Janissaries are now kept on standby, being deployed as soon as Sipahis detect something.
But this is where the problem is: whenever we arrive at a village, it would already be destroyed, the Sipahis would also be dead, and the scout would say that he saw the Bandits, wearing golden armour, but there would be none when we rrived. We are just playing rat and mouse with these feral savages, and people are paying the price; some villages are already being abandoned, and their people are moving to the closest towns to survive. Agha of Odjak is not pleased, as it would mean that the small towns will be the next target, but I don’t blame them; after seeing your neighbourhood getting devastated and your neighbours getting eaten alive, you would surely flee your house, and here we cannot even do anything.
There is a fear now since Moroccans have reported that Hajj trains through their territories got attacked by the same bandits. Seemingly these bandits are active in the west too. All Hajjis got killed and eaten by the monsters. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un, I cannot even contemplate going on such a holy pilgrimage, only to die in such a gruesome manner, not even having your whole body intact for burial.
The Yayabaşı is already asking for a war to be declared on the Bandits, but the bureaucrats are hesitant. “Oh, but against who, Bandits? The Ummah and Avrupalılar would laugh at us, ‘Here are descendants of conquerors of Rum getting smacked down by some savage tribes’. Do you want us to be a joke?”
Like villages getting wiped out is not serious enough, but of course who would care about the frontier of North Africa? These men sitting on cushions of silk would only push their pens once Algeria gets destroyed.
For now, the Agha is doing what he can, but I don’t have any hopes, especially since the empire is still recovering from the war with the Iranians and Hapsburgs. Let's see if the Bandits actually attack Algeris next.
9th day of Dhul-Hijjah of the 1018th year after the Hijrah.
I just saw the bodies of the Hajjis from Timbuktu who were travelling through our land. All of them attacked, mutilated, and killed, including some big names. Must have pushed those pens as the news spread across the Ummat, and Sultan has been demanded to take some concrete action; the attack on Hajjis themselves, in the land of the Caliphate, is unacceptable. Sultan has already deployed six more Ortas to us; we are now supposed to actively make rounds along with Sipahis rather than sit and wait for some report of attack.
The fort construction has sped up to triple shift; I can even now hear the work of construction when the night used to be quiet. They have planned to increase the number of fortifications to seven and build a courier system between the forts. However, a new problem has arisen.
Chroniclers, war enthusiasts who have too much money for good, and scholars who brag about memorizing the pages of Shams al Maarif and experts of occult sciences have made camp next to us, wanting to see these Bandits and believe they are Jinns or at least possessed by Jinns.
I cannot dispute the claims, but they are dead weight; they refuse to follow our rules, run behind our tails, and watch the dead like those poor people are some spectacles. Some perform magic, or at least like magic, to bring Jinns to fight the bandits. Most of the time, all these fools do is entertain us while Imams seethe about why they are even allowed to do such un-Islamic rituals.
I just hope this does not turn worse.
12th day of Jumada al-Ula of the 1019th year of Hijrah.
The fort’s construction has been completed. It is a small but modest one, and we are now living in actual barracks and not in tents. Attacks have decreased. After the 20th day of Dhul Hijjah, the Hajjis returning were not attacked; villagers are returning to their homes, and now bureaucrats are having discussions about cutting our funding, since Sultanet’s coffers are drying up. Agha has kept them at bay for now since he thinks that it may be a ruse from the bandits to have our guard down before resuming their carnage.
The Yayabaşı has now begun an expedition into the south to find out the base of bandits, if there is one, and eliminate the threat, though many are skeptical of finding anything in the desert.
We will leave tomorrow, and I really hope we find something.[No date given]
They are not men! The one who gets it after my death, they are not humans; they are jinns. No, not even that; they are something else. Those fools were not wrong; they are not men, and now I will pay for my disbelief.
It began last month. I don’t know who; maybe the Janissaries of Odjak found a pagan temple? I don’t know, or care. They found it kilometers away, some Berber shrine. Seven Janissaries went inside, but never came out. More were sent in for the next ten days, none returned. Eventually, Yayabaşı sent men from our Orta in to find out what was going on.
We followed the orders; Allah cursed that bastard for sending us in. We went inside the temple; it was a cave, an ancient cave temple. I don’t know who made it.
The inside was dark but clean, with no spider webs or bats; someone was living in it. We moved on till we started finding fragments of human bones and rotting flesh. We knew it was the bandits. I and my brother in arms, Ali, drew our swords, and Mustafa his rifle, as we prepared ourselves. Other Janissaries were behind us as we moved deeper into the cave. There were more bones and flesh inside it as we slowly started to realize how big this tunnel was and how deep it went. We eventually camped inside a small chamber. Thankfully and oddly, it was well ventilated, and we would get supplies from the surface.
We continued the next day, going deeper as we started seeing whole limbs chewed down. How would Bandits even live here? Why did this grave-like cave, we found out.
I still remember; we got into another chamber, larger than the last one. There we saw a bandit in full gold, head covered by a golden helmet and a kind of blue glass veil. It was on all fours, facing us while a body of some eight-year-old boy lay dead, maybe its meal.
“By order of the Sultan and for the grace of Allah, surrender.” Mustafa raised his rifle, pointing at it. “Speak, Kuffar!”
It got up, its arms raised as my attention went to its index finger, not sheathed by the golden glove. It was just a bone, limp, moving on its own accord.
My entire focus was on the bone for so long that Ali grabbed my hand, breaking my trance state. “Allah.”
My eyes went to the figure’s face; two red, bright spots were behind the glass. I froze. I froze as it put its hand on the helmet; I remained frozen as more pairs of eyes started popping up behind. I froze when it took the glass off; a skull with two red gemstones encrusted on the socket stared at us; I was screaming from within.
All the discipline of the Janissaries, which was drilled into us from childhood, evaporated away as we turned around, screaming like children.
Ali screamed as voices of crunching and gnashing of bones reached our ears. Mustafa, Usman, Nasir, and Karim fell down in order. I never looked back because I feared that I would stop again. They roared, the golden men, not a howl or scream, but something sharp, something that would tear one’s eardrums.
My lungs burnt as the light of the sun was before my eyes; my hopes went up. The nightmare was over; the nightmare was over. This was the sentence in my brain. Then I fell.
I screamed as the golden man sunk its teeth into the sole of my foot, tearing the flesh out. Others joined, attacking my legs as those monsters chomped down on my legs, pulling my flesh out. I was weeping like a child, life flashed before my eyes: my parents, who sold me to the tax collector; the boot camp where I was trained; all those battles where I evaded death from the Christians. I cried; death by the hands of Kuffar was far better than being eaten by these things. The Kuffar would still bury me; these monsters would only leave my bones.
I heard some new voices and gunshots as I passed out.
I woke up here in the fort. Both my legs are gone; the medic amputated the bones still attached to the stumps. I think the ones outside pulled me out while gunning those bastards down. But now those monsters are outside.
They have surrounded us, and there are not dozens. They are at least eight hundred. They are gnawing at the walls of the fort; they want to tear everyone inside apart.
I would die, but I don’t want to be eaten.
[Unknown date]
Odabaşı is dead; he was thrown down the fort wall by the Odjak Janissaries. They are no longer giving us rations since they have a numeric majority.
The monsters are still clawing down the door while some Janissaries who arrived to relieve us seemingly turned around on seeing the sight. I am starving; the flesh of my leg is becoming black.
I want to die, but suicide is haram. The Odjak plans to throw me down the fort to be toyed with by those ferals and help them buy more time. I guess I really have no choice.