Tuesday, December 30, 2014

The Whisperer in The Darkness

So close.

But a hair's breadth away from absolute enlightenment. What would you have done?
Reality is a fragile thing. Fragile and complex. Subject to the whims of entities far beyond our conception.

We crawl in the dirt and the mud, we cry out for companionship into the darkness and mourn our eternal loneliness. And have the arrogance to assume that we, hairless pink primates perched on a tiny rock, part of a minor galaxy set in a fairly desolate and unimportant part of this vast and unknowable Universe, have the ability to comprehend reality?

The sheer hubris of it. A curious kind of solipsism, is it not?

I long ago accepted the truth. I hold no more illusions about myself or those who I once called brethren anymore.

Creation is the most cruel joke that has ever been played. What could exceed the malevolence of placing sentient beings born with an innate need to search for meaning, in a cage bereft of any?

This is a story of truth, dear reader. Think me not a nihilist. I have merely seen the light, cast as it was by a hideously gibbous source, it is a realization that is almost entirely removed from sanity.


Who I am is unimportant.

What matters is this story.

"Thank God!" I say to myself. After years of toil and hardship, I had finally done it. My name would go down in the annals of archaeology for all time. My achievement lauded for its worth and its significance taught to children centuries after I am long dust.

In my hands, undeniable proof of the existence of a civilization that predates the Harappan and Egyptian societies by millennia. Eons even.

A stone statuette, of exquisite craftsmanship and design. Made by hands and tools that are far too skilled and subtle to suggest anything but a creator of utmost ability, and unprecedented capability for a time so far removed in the past.

Truly, the mind boggles. And not in the least, because of the strangeness of the statuette itself.

Made of a dark material, very much like onyx or basalt, yet still not readily identifiable. Perhaps it is an element that is no longer found on Earth? A line of questioning to be followed up at a later time.

The most intriguing facet of the artifact is its design. I cannot begin to identify its subject matter. Was it made as an effigy to honor and worship a god of some dead religion? That could be so, evidenced by the intricacy of the detail and the strange markings carved into the base of the statuette.

I decided to carry forward with this theory, until something more valid presented itself.

The figure depicted by the artifact was truly well represented, despite me having absolutely no clue what it was. A bizarre, nightmarish conjugation bearing no similarity to any animal I have seen, or any one else I'd wager. It stood upright on two legs, and seemed vaguely humanoid, but there the similarity ended.

A face composed of a mass of tentacles writhing about. A skeletal body with skin stretched over a frame that did not echo the normal rib-cage structure of mammals at all but rather seemed composed of bits of bone and sinew oddly strewn about its insides, grotesquely bulging in some places and concave in others. Legs ending in clawed feet that gripped the base of the statuette firmly.

And the eyes were the most unsettling part, seeming black and empty at first, on closer inspection, inset with gemstones of a similarly non - identifiable origin as the rest of the statuette. These gems were black of hue and flecked with specks, seeming like the night sky. On gazing into them, I was reminded of the cold black vastness of space, of unknowable reaches and incomprehensible dimensions far transcending the feeble circle of light that extends beyond earth...

And suddenly I catch myself.

"Where did that last bit come from?" I think. Those thoughts didn't seem like they'd originated from me. On closer rumination, they didn't seem like words I'd even say. A cold shiver ran through me, and with great unease and trepidation I put the statuette away for the moment.

"Need some sleep."

That was surely it, it had just been too much work and too many late nights. But at last, the fruit of my efforts revealed and well in hand, I could finally get a decent nights rest.

"Time for bed then."

I place the statuette in a protective casing, designed to secure it from the worst of the elements on its transport from my dig site to a facility where it could properly be carbon - dated, studied and examined in greater detail.

I take my glasses off, and rub my eyes, wiping the exhaustion of a long day and settle into bed.
I was hopeful, I'll admit it.
"Things are starting to look up." I say to myself, in the vague fugue state between sleep and dreams.

If only I had known how wrong I was.

I cannot honestly describe what happened next. It is forever shrouded in uncertainty by the sheer strangeness of what occurred and the surreal, almost unreal nature of dreams.

All I can remember is an unending experience of sheer horror and panic. I was set upon by the darkest of fears, hounded by the most aberrant of creatures, killed and returned to life only to be tortured again to the grave, to wait for the cycle to be repeated eternally. All of this in instants that seemed like centuries to my minds eye.

And the worst part? I could give no voice to anything I had to say. Throughout this eternal torment, this hell of incessant pain, I could not scream.

For I had no mouth.

Imagine it. Trapped for an eternity in the deepest and darkest nightmares of mankind, and I was denied even the simplest expression of my suffering.

It was then that reality began to break down, and I began to see things clearer.

I woke up covered in sweat, with a blood curdling scream resounding in my ears, and it took me the longest time before I realized that I was its source.

My throat rattled as my vocal cords refused to put up with any more abuse and the scream was abruptly cut off.

I took no action for a while then, except to breathe and shudder, calming and reassuring myself that I had not lost all sanity.

I was never a man to put faith in the supernatural, but whatever had just happened had shaken my convictions to their very core. Perhaps not all was as tranquil and logical as it seemed with the universe.

And somehow, I knew the reason for this, to be the discovery of the statuette.

I rose from the bed, still covered in my own sweat, and moved shakily to the casing which held the artifact. I slowly uncovered it, moving warily as in fear of the inanimate object striking out at me.

And indeed when I gazed at it, I knew something was wrong. In the dim of night, the statuette seemed to drink in the darkness. Right into those maddening eyes, voids of depth beyond comprehension.

And just as my nerve broke and I thought to put the statuette away, for I could not keep looking at it without the most absolute animal terror and panic coursing through my body, defying all logic, reason, understanding and education, the Elder One spoke to me, in a voice that was kin to the dying of galaxies and the collapsing of stars.


I am beyond fear now, moving into the realm of madness. My body no longer obeys my commands, numb to the will of the mind that animates it.

I ask into the ether, "Who are you?" knowing that some greater power was at play here and now. This was no longer the realm of ordinary mortals.


As the name entered my consciousness, I was suddenly pressed upon by a multitude of impressions, each of them more horrifying than the last.

Of a dark and monstrous place in the far reaches of the Cosmos, where the Elder Ones hold court.

In that amorphous blight of netherwordly confusion where chaos and destruction breed in infernal and eternal cycles.

In the hideous nuclear chaos that bubbles beyond the confines of angled space, in that place of ultimate contradiction, far removed from our reality, but still central to all that exists, is where he waits.

The Lurking Horror, he who created the Universe, and must slumber forevermore. He rests now, gnawing on the edges of reality, eternally embroiled in restless sleep.

In the inconceivable and unlighted chambers that lie beyond time and space, he lies forever unconscious, lulled to sleep by the music of the spheres and the song of the stars, surrounded by his uneasy Pantheon.

For if he were to wake, there would no longer be worlds or Gods.


And with that, all that I had known, loved and thought true, shattered to a million shards within me. I was broken. My mind a ruined wreck, reeling from the revelations I had just witnessed.

For there was no comprehending the truth, without any mortal mind shrinking from it in terror and collapsing on itself, in rebellion of the true malevolence of existence, and the false idol that we call, Free Will.

All of us, are but playthings for Him.

I cannot, will not say his name. For I am too afraid.

He dreams, and in his dreams, he subverts the reality he has bestowed upon us. Creatures of consciousness, we are but the maggots that feed upon the fetid meat of space and time.

The universe is a corpse, His body that extends beyond infinity and eternity.

A rotting and infernal corpse that is home to an innumerable number of nameless horrors. We are insects, born to be fed on and toyed with at the pleasure of entities so primordial they defy understanding.


I scream now, my words an unintelligible shriek of madness and pain, almost no longer human. For this creature, this glorious and horrifying God - thing, sound was but a hindrance. Reaching past me, into the substance of my being itself, he shows me what could be mine.


I rise to my feet. There are no longer any tears, words or screams left in me. Whatever I am now, is no longer human.

In my last mortal act, I nod my head, and step forward into His embrace.

I leave who I am, and this forsaken reality behind me.

So close.

But a hair's breadth away from absolute enlightenment. What would you have done?

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Then Before,Now Once More

She is there,now.

She is always there.

My damnation.

My own screams fill the air,as I wake up.



Death is only the beginning.

I am in soil.

I am in dust.

I inhale my own decay as I watch myself shrivel and dissipate.


An Age.

I am Mourned.

I am Remembered.

I am Faded Memory.

I am Nothing.


I have stumbled upon something.

By true accident or by the machinations of the Gods,I have discovered something truly magnificent,

No,not the the Gods.This is their most terrible secret,their greatest strength.


In all my years,I have never seen such Magik.This tomb reeks of it,the very air is heavy with it.

The laborers are all dead.They had to be silenced.There was too much at stake.

It is only Adrienne and I now,she is my only companion,through the final steps of this journey.And a finer companion,there is none.In the outside world,we draw enough Magik from the earth for cheap tricks and conjure tiny flickers of flame from our finger tips.Here we are able to apply the old and Ancient schools,not just the elemental.

Already she is channeling it better than I.She managed to trap the workers in the anti chamber,sealed the doorway shut.

Graveyards always had more Magik in them,the departed life force seeped into the earth and festered there,but not enough,never enough.

But we found a way to get more, an unlimited amount.She taught me how,using the Magik in the tomb,we probed inside the anti chamber with our minds.And inside,in our melded conscious,we felt the floating tendril of a soul.We tugged,slowly and lightly,for that was all we could muster.

We tugged and it unraveled.

O What a feeling!The surge of energy,the power!We consumed it and were drunk on its infinite power!

We didnt need any form of sustenance for months!We grew fat in our aura,in the other plane.

But even as we grew in power,our bodies were failing us.Years had passed,Time showed us no mercy.

We turned to a dangerous path.

An older school.

Deep in the tomb,in the darkest corner,it came to me.Hidden within its walls.


We would reach into the Veil,and bind Death to our will.

The preparations are complete.


It is done.

The arcane ritual thrust into the emptiness of the Veil and bound death in its physical form,powerless and enslaved.

It took the form of a little girl,no more than eight or nine.Skin like porcelain,midnight hair.But her eyes were old and deep,dark with malice.

We told her the cost of her freedom and she laughed,high and screeching,it carried into the deep of the tomb and deep into my heart.I felt it clasp me and I felt true fear.

But she agreed,at the cost of a sacrifice.

Adrienne turned to me to speak,and I slit her through with my silver dagger. Her blood sprayed across the floor as she crumpled onto the ground.

Death laughed once more,she flickered and faded into the darkness.

A voice boomed in the darkness


I have been deceived.


It has been six and twenty years since that dark night.My time is coming to an end.I used my power to gain favor and money and women,but it has cost me much.

The mob gathers outside,they have heard much of things I have had to do to maintain my power.So many sacrificed.

Once I left the tomb,the Magik drained quickly.I was addicted to it,so I tried to get more.

Like a candle sputtering to the dark,I am Empty.

Death is only the beginning.

I will face her one last time.

I used the last of it.A dark,unnatural storm brewed outside.

I reached back into the Veil and cast upon this mortal plane,the Shadow of Death.

I wanted to laugh at her one last time,remind her that a mere mortal had such power over her.

The Ritual Circle flickered to life,as the Kings Men were banging at the door.

It burst open and I turned to see them charg at me.

I looked back to mock Death before she claimed me.

My own screams filled the room as I stared at her.Even as the axes and swords hacked and slashed at my mortal flesh,I couldn't take my eyes of her.



My own screams fill the air,as I wake up.

I have conquered Death.

I am more than Mortal.

I am a Damned God.

She is there,now.

She is always there.

My damnation.

Thursday, December 11, 2014


He woke up to the smell of her hair filling his lungs and the tickle of her soft hair against his lips.

He didnt want to open his eyes,he wanted this moment to last forever.

He smiled in his daze and wrapped his arm tighter around her,pulling her closer,not wanting to share her with the world.

She replied by elbowing him in the chest,breaking free and rolling back to sleep.

His eyes flew open to the dark room around him.There was nothing.

He closed his eyes again,screwed them shut and tried to will himself back to sleep.

Already the wisps of his dream were being blown away in the cold light of day.

Still,he reached.Grabbing at the nothingness as he squeezed too tight and it all faded away to memory.

He shook it off,the dust of sleep.

He got up gingerly.

He could still smell her hair.

He still remembered when he saw her.

As she stood at the doorway, with so many people around her.

As they all milled about going about their daily lives,and he couldnt understand.

Did they not see her? How could one look at her and keep walking? Curse the gods that brought her down,and set her amongst us.So far away from the heavens to which she belonged.

So many people,but for him there was only her.And she was perfect. Looking at her fa

This is so unhealthy for me.

I want to go on,and everything I want to say is so damn perfect. Every syllable could break walls and end lives. But I've come so far,done so much.

Sometimes I feel like i should just walk away.

But everytime I get too far,each step I take becomes heavier.

I am a drowning man,an anchor at my feet.And everytime,as i prepare for the cold bite of the ocean to fill my lungs,she breathes life into me again.

This is my fate.

I hate writing about love.

Sunday, December 7, 2014


An unremarkable white powder, in an even more unremarkable plastic sachet. Used for illicit substance containment everywhere in the world. Could have been anything from coke to crystallized LSD.

Just another day, just another high.
Or so I thought.

I emptied the contents of the packet on the table, and with motions that are purely muscle memory by now, divide the white heap into three neat lines.

"Three lines man. Is all you'll need. You'll be high forever."

I sniffed, readying myself for the warm embrace of dissociation. I lowered my nose to the table and insufflated a line, heart racing. The only time I ever truly feel alive now. I feel the drugs making their way through my membranes. That agonizing yet soothing burn. I sit back and wait.

Only to feel nothing. 

Tilting my head at the offending substance, I frown. Not even a buzz? 
I think back to my encounter with the dealer.

A slight, unremarkable man. Another nameless, faceless entity in the human morass. Nothing to distinguish him from anyone else. He seemed harmless, if weasely. All in all, your typical dealer.

And then I met his eyes. Black as night, filled with the promise of malice and cunning. This man was dangerous. Extremely so. He just didn't let people know. I shivered, and in that moment, the perception I'd had of him faded away, to be replaced by the carefully constructed persona. 

"Whatchoo looking to buy?"
"The usual man."
"Naw man, I'm all out of bump. I've got this other stuff though. It's freaking killer. Three lines man. Is all you'll need. You'll be high forever."
"What? Stop fucking around man. I need some bump."
"Nigga, are you listening to me? I GOT NO COKE. What I do have, is this stuff, called Eternal. It's new. You don't want any, keep moving."
"Jesus Christ man. Okay, sure. Whatever. It'll get me high right?"
"Oh yeah. High as a freaking kite." he said, as he began rummaging in his various pockets for the product. 

He fishes out a baggie, half filled with white powder, presents it to me for inspection.

"First line, you won't feel much."
"Second line, you'll start feeling things. Wonderful things." He pauses, as if doubtful about continuing.
"And? The third line?"
He shrugs then, and moves to collect the cash I give him.
"If you make it past the second, you'll find out."

The memory recedes, and suddenly I'm back in the present again.
I shrug, and move to snort the second line.
I lower my nose to the table, more intent on the experience this time, intent on squeezing every drop of high I can. I snort a line, and as suddenly as that, I am no longer tethered to my earthly cage.

"Jeeeeeeeesuuuuuuussssssss Chriiiiiiiiiissssssttttttttttt" I manage to moan around the pleasure that threatens to suffocate me. How do I describe it?

Pulsating waves of ecstasy that emanate from the core of my being. Colors, lights, sounds and senses. Nothing makes sense but all is revealed. I am floating, I am nothing, I am everything.
For an eternity, painfully reduced to quantifiable moments, I trip. 
When I trip, I am God. There is nothing that constrains me, nothing that is beyond my ability. Creation and destruction are but meaningless archetypes in the realm of the mind. Existence is the only thing that matters. Persistence. Consciousness. These are the things that....

And just as suddenly as it had come, the warm blanket of the high is ripped away from my fragile form. 
I am brought back to this cruel and cold plane of existence. Shivering from the intensity of an experience that could have begun an eon ago.
I feel no crash, no down, just a mindless urge to continue that wonderful trip. I lower my nose to the table, and right before I snort the final line my mind wanders to his parting words.

"If you make it past the second, you'll find out."
Down the rabbit hole I go then.

I barely feel the drug, the Eternal, this time, as it makes its way through me. All I can feel is the mind-numbing bliss of it in me. My body lies limp in the chair, and I feel the chains on me melting away. I am free once again.

And so I wander the ethereal plains, the starlit fields of madness and wonder. Man is a creature terrifyingly confined to his earthly shell. He fears and refuses the aspect of himself that threatens to shatter all the bonds of civilization, not understanding that it is only his implicit acceptance of his chains that keeps him bound.
All truths are known to me, all lies exposed, all flaws perfected. There is nothing but the serene and the tranquil within the maelstrom of chaos. Entropy is what shall free us all in the end. 

And so my trip continued, reaching forward into things not yet occurred, and harking back to the shadows of things already past. I floated for an eternity, free of all the filth of existence.

Until a single disquieting thought came to me.

"Who am I?"
The cold silence that met the question, was the most terrifying thing I had ever experienced. I could no longer recall who I was. 

Even the questions seemed to make less sense with every passing moment, in that timeless void. Conscious thought seemed futile here, unnecessary. A part of me, whatever that was, longed to just give up and lose myself in the unending ecstasy. 

I felt someone else scream, felt the struggles of someone else entirely. I was so close now, almost to the end. The warm glow had faded away to be replaced by an infinitely deep darkness. And as my identity receded, the single point of light that I called myself dimmed, almost going out.

The last thing I saw, as my consciousness dwindled away, was an infinite sea of lights in that terrible darkness, revealed for what it was. The last emotion I felt was horror, as I understood what I and so many others had given ourselves over to. 

The Eternal Darkness took me, and I was no more.