Alessandra
05-20-2010, 11:44 AM
So, this story I'm still working on. With the replies I received from people who read and enjoyed that bit of yaoi I posted, I decided to post the first chapter to this story. It's more creepy-horror based than anything I've written. Once I write chapter 2, I'll most likely edit this first post and tack it on. Enjoy!
Ch 1 - The Book
I sped down the highway, toward the turnoff my friend Becka had indicated on a small hand-drawn map. She had called me about a week ago, to tell me she had found a deal on a house out in the desert, and had jumped at the opportunity. Her original home situation wasn't all that great, so a chance of escaping her surroundings in any way was a welcome opportunity. Of course, when she got there to check it out, the home was a little more of a fixer-upper, and she had rang me to see if I would help her clean the place out so she could move her things in. I had asked her why it was such a mess to begin with, but all she told me was that the realtor was rather silent about the issue and had claimed that the previous occupants had left in a hurry.
Finding said turnoff, I braked and turned down the semi-paved road that led to the run-down home. The home was in a depressing state of decrepitude, and I wondered why on God's green earth she had chosen such a miserable place to live. The porch was in disarray; the wood rotted and gnawed on by some kind of wild desert animal. Pits in the drive made me swerve as to not bottom out my truck. We had a lot of work to do, but we had to clean the inside first, so she could get her furniture inside. I nervously made my way up the porch, teetering precariously on a few weak boards. How was she going to get her stuff in there?
She came to the door approximately a minute and a half from when I knocked. Her face was red from exertion, a few blonde wisps from her pulled back hair had fallen in front of her eyes. She opened the door, and retreated to a lone couch, one that the previous tenants had apparently left.
"I need a break. Thanks for coming, Eva." She stifled a yawn, and sprawled on the couch.
"Think nothing of it, you're my best friend." I looked around the living room, piles of boxes and taller piles of trash and junk occupying most of the space. "Now let's see what kind of magic I can work on this place..." I grabbed a trash bag, and began stuffing. Something on the floor, away from the designated piles, caught my eye.
"Hey," I said to her as she lounged lazily on the couch. "What's this? Is this some kind of antique book? Is this yours?"
The figure on the couch stirred uneasily. "No... You're kidding, right?" She arched her body forward, expressing interest.
"Seriously, Becka. I thought you had everything in piles already. If this is yours..."
"But I don't have any of those kinds of books, Eva. They don't interest me, and they're too expensive to boot. You must be playing a trick on me."
I sighed and moved over to the couch, armed with the questionable book. "Yes, because I magically pulled an old book out of my ass," and lightly smacked the book on the crown of Becka's head. "You, ma'am, are ridiculous." I let out another sigh and sat next to my friend. "So... let's read this." I said, nudging her.
"Okay, sure. I've never seen a book quite like this before..." her voice trailed, leading to an uneasy pause.
"You chickening out?" I jabbed playfully. "Though I do have to say... I haven't either." I stared at the cover for a few minutes, wondering what to do with it. The paper seemed heavier than usual, the front and back covers a hideous deep olive green. The cover seemed to resemble an ancient book, artfully designed 'cracks' on the paper gave it a rather disturbing aura, but I just couldn't quite place where the uneasiness was truly coming from. The book smelled of forest, damp earth with pine, and faint traces of a sea odor. Slowly turning the book over in my hands, I eyed the back cover. As soon as I began my cursory examination of the back, I found strange symbols on the bottom, and upon closer examination, found something hastily scribbled on the upper left hand side. It was faint and only a few words I recognized. Shivering with a sudden feeling of foreboding, I looked at Becka. "Huh. It says, 'Help,' um, I think here it says, 'find me.' What the Hell?" I nearly threw the book down. "I think there's some seriously strange ju ju around this, man."
"Something weird for sure. But let's see what's inside." Becka urged, and nodded toward the book I held in my slightly quaking hands.
"You sure?" I asked, silently wishing my comrade would voice her disapproval. Whatever this book was, it was bad news. Everything about it made my hair stand up at attention; the mysterious arrival, the wretched looking binding, the hand-written "HELP" on the back... Every thing inside me screamed, "No, Don't!"
-I should have listened.-
Yet, Fate has a mysterious way of showing when you least expect it. I wonder, was it Fate that led us to open the book?
--
I looked to Becka, then noticed that the sun must have begun its slow descent to the west. Benign shadows stretched across the floor, over boxes, and hid away in corners. I realized that the quickly diminishing light would not be very helpful while we tried to read the book. "I'm going to turn on the light, okay?" I asked, standing up.
"Yeah, no problem. The switch is over by the hallway."
"'Kay." I walked over to the switch and flipped it up. Immediately, the living room was bathed in encouraging brightness. I relaxed a little bit. I didn't understand why a book, of all things, was giving me the heebie-jeebies. "Want me to grab a drink while I'm near the 'fridge?" I asked, trying to delay the inevitable.
"Sure. Oh, dig around in there somewhere, I think I got some beer a while ago. I didn't have anyone to share it with, so it's been sitting there. Take one for yourself too." Becka said. Looking over at her, she seemed to be trying to relax as well. Maybe the beer would help. I opened the door of the refrigerator and managed to find the beer that she spoke of. I quickly grabbed two, and opened the tops as I walked back toward the living room. Handing her one, I sat back down on the couch and took a long sip. Purposefully trying to ignore the book, I looked out the window closest to the door. It was opened, letting a cool comforting breeze pass through. I let the breeze sweep around me as I closed my eyes. Even spring in the desert was a horrid affair. There was no in-between. It was either cold, or hot, and neither were very comfortable. I opened my eyes and took another sip; well, more like a chug, from my bottle.
"Ready?" I asked.
"More than I'll ever be, I guess." Becka replied. I touched the book then, and it felt as if something might have changed. Maybe it was the beer. When I had first looked at the book, some of what I saw indicated a rather cheaply made book, with just artistic touches added to the covers. This time, the covers truly did look ancient and dilapidated, cracks splitting the worn leather, bits of the book crumbling in my hands. I shot my hand back, away from the musty tome.
"Jesus Christ!" I shouted. Becka jumped slightly.
"Wh..what is it?" She asked. I shook my head.
"I'm not sure. Like, you know...the book was creepy at first. But it was still kind of cheap. But now...dude. You touch it. I can't even begin to tell you how wrong that felt." I sat back and edged the book toward my friend. "I think... I think the book changed somehow."
Becka looked at me, a frown on her face. I highly doubt she had actually believed me. "Touch it, you'll see. I swear!" I poked at the book. Finally, she relented, and grabbed the book. A look of pained horror shot through her features. Her mouth coiled into a silent cry.
"That's not right, not right at all! It's... its... real? Maybe it's alive too! Oh God!" She said after she managed to regain her voice. I grabbed the book from her before she had the opportunity to drop it, or throw it.
"We've come this far, let's open it already." I said impatiently, and quickly flipped the front cover. As soon I did so, the front door flew open and slammed into the wall next to it, breaking the door stopper and letting out a huge cracking noise, indicating the wall must have cracked under the force of the door. We both shot out of our seats, and were met with gale force winds from an abrupt dust storm. I fell to my knees to huddle up and protect my face from the biting wind and dust, and Becka quickly followed suit. Having no other alternative, we remained coiled for what felt like hours. Finally, it seemed as if the nightmare was over. The gale had been replaced by quieter, calmer winds, but the damage had been done. Both of us went to the door to check the damage. Becka shut the door again, making sure it was locked tightly. Where the door had been, a large hole remained from where the handle had broken through. "That...was weird." I said softly.
"I think that qualifies for the 'Understatement of the year' award, Eva." She said, as she walked toward the window to close it as well. We both laughed nervously. Dusting ourselves off, we moved back toward the couch.
"Damn it!" I threw my hands up into the air. "The wind knocked over the beers." I moved closer to the coffee table. "But, the book hasn't moved at all. The pages haven't flipped or anything!" I sat back down on my side of the couch and peered at the seemingly untouched book. "Oh, neat... Look at this symbol. Doesn't it look familiar?"
"Should it?" Asked Becka.
"It should..." I rolled up my left sleeve. There it was, the same symbol. A star, or pentagram, that appeared to have been created out of haste. The 'arms' and 'legs' of the symbol were disproportionate; and in the center, sat what appeared to be a flaming eye. The image was chilling. "Why is there an Elder sign on this book?" I wondered out loud, to nobody in particular.
"Elder sign?" Becka inquired, reaching out her hand to poke at the sign.
"A fictional device, used in certain stories. I'm sure you've read H.P. Lovecraft's stories." I kept staring at the sign as I spoke. I looked in Becka's direction, and noticed she had a blank look on her face. "Call of Cthulhu? The Shadow Over Innsmouth?" Her face remained expressionless. "For crying out loud, lady, you need to do some reading. The man's stuff was brilliant. Very very creepy."
"I'll take your word for it." Becka said. "What's an Elder sign?"
"Well, it depends on the story. Heh. We...well, us humans, don't know what exactly they do. Could be a protection symbol, could be a seal. It could be anything really. But my guess is protection. But, its like I said; a fictional device. It doesn't do a damn thing."
"So why do you have it tattooed?" Becka pointed at my tattoo then, giving me a suspicious eye.
"I don't know. I just felt like I had to." I shrugged. "Plus, I'm a fan of Lovecraft and the Mythos." I went back to looking at the book. "I find it strange, however, that a book like this has an Elder sign. As if whoever put it on there actually believed it served a purpose." I looked at the introduction page. The only marking on it was some kind of stain. I turned the page, and found that there were no words, but drawings and symbols. Faded images; page after page of them, but no words. One that caught my eye was an old ruin, submerged in a lake perhaps, or even an ocean somewhere.
"This has to be the weirdest book I've ever seen." Becka interjected, staring at the pages. "What are these markings? Doodles? Absolute nonsense to me, at least. You're the expert, you have any ideas?"
"I'm not an expert! I just read some stories, that's all. It's all supposed to be fiction. This is ridiculous." I said, a little frustrated. "You have to admit, its one of a kind though."
"I guess." Becka replied, looking disinterested. "For all the creepy, it's kind of a let down." She stood up and grabbed a broom and began sweeping the dust and dirt that had collected from the earlier incident.
"You think so?" I reclined back into the couch, bringing the book back with me. "Your loss, amiga." I continued flipping through the rest of the pages, though for some reason found myself focused on the image of the submerged ruins. When I flipped to the last page, I finally found writing. "Hey, Becka, I found writing! I don't know what it says, though. What the hell kind of language is this?!" The page read:
Y'ai 'ng'ngah,
Yog-Sothoth!
h'ee-l'geb
f'ai throdog
uaaah!
Iä Yog-Sothoth! Iä!
Becka peered over my shoulder. "Whatever it is, it's probably just there to freak you out." We both chuckled a little, and she wandered off to finish up her sweeping. I looked up at her for a moment, then went back to eying the book. There was one more page after the strange verse, and I flipped it. More writing. It looked relatively fresh, but the words were scratched as if written in an insane flurry. What followed was almost a moment of strange enlightenment...
"Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. ~HPL"
"Yog-Sothoth...H.P.L. Wonderful, it's quoting Lovecraft. This book, whatever it is, is such a load." I said, slightly dejected. "If you don't want this, I'll take it home. It'd be a good find for my collection, at least."
Becka perked her head up from dumping the dirt outside. "Yeah, sure. No problem. You don't want to trash it?" She asked.
"No, not yet at least. Want to do some research, maybe I'll find something."
"Suit yourself. Say, we still have a lot of work to do. Do you mind staying over for the night? We can just play some games tonight, then continue when the sun rises."
"No problem. I didn't really want to go home anyway." I laughed, and set the book aside.
"Okay then, let me go into town and pick up some pizza for dinner. Try to hold the fort down." Becka playfully winked as she walked towards the door.
"I'm not sure how I'd fare against a psychotic wind from the netherworld, Becka." I laughed again and stuck my tongue out at her.
Eventually I heard her car start, and the rumbling of the tires as she backed out from the dirt drive. Within a matter of minutes, I was surrounded by impenetrable silence. I sat there on the couch, for how long, I cannot recall. But something was happening with that old junky book. Maybe the silence was getting to me. Was it...was it calling me? I felt an urge to pick it up once more, perhaps even with a sense of urgency. Strange thoughts swirled in my mind, recollections of my childhood, all the close friends I've had since I was a child, and my lovers. Only one dominated my mind at the end though, it was James...a thousand feelings poured from me; depression, from not being able to see him, a radiating light of love...I found myself gripping the book tightly, turned to the second to last page. In a half trance, I was able to call out the alien language.
"...Iä Yog-Sothoth! Iä!"
I gasped out the last syllable and I felt another rush of air, but I was also greeted with a darkness that no light could penetrate. It felt as if I had the wind knocked out of me, and I was soon released to sweet unconsciousness.
Chapter 2
In the black depths I found myself. I was surrounded by darkness still, and I began to think that I was dead. My mind reeled, trying to comprehend where I was, and how I got there. I vaguely recalled an incantation of sorts, and mentally slapped myself for being so foolish. A slight ~twitch~, a small spasm, nudged me back from my internal wanderings.
“Becka?” I cried out. To my astonishment, my mouth never moved. “Wha-what's going on here?” I felt the fear rising from the pit of my stomach. “Where am I?” I screamed out into the void. My voice echoed through the darkness, but again my lips did not, or perhaps could not move. What I had at first thought was an infinite gulf contracted, then expanded around me. I thought I spied something shivering in the distance. Was...was it alive?!
I had little time to consider the thought, for I was suddenly grabbed and shaken by an invisible force. I did not know what it was then, and I do not dare to even think of it now! The way it was shaking, I felt like a small, cheap rag doll. If I had been in poor constitution, the shaking would most assuredly have broken me in two. The unearthly shaking, the strange feeling of being gripped by unseen hands; dare I even call them hands! I recall the texture; it was a bizarre feeling of slimy cold rubber, and it was as if it was a part of the darkness itself. I felt its grip constrict against me, and I quickly realized as I attempted to writhe my way from it's grasp that it was some kind of tentacled limb. I let out an ear piercing scream, thinking that I had gone insane right then and there. I screamed and screamed, feeling tendrils of madness lashing at the edges of my mind. The screaming continued until all the air in my lungs had escaped, and I slouched forward, limp and comatose in the grip of whatever monstrosity had me.
-------
Something bright was shining in my closed eyes. I tried to keep my eyelids tightly shut, but I soon became aware of one sound enveloping my frayed senses. It was water, splashing against something. It was not a violent splashing, but gentle lapping against something like a boat. As consciousness slowly returned to my form, I raised my head up and opened my eyes. At first, I was blinded by the new light that met my eyes, the same eyes that had been shut in darkness for who knows how long. After rubbing my eyes and blinking-my attempt to slowly accustom my eyes- I was able to see again. I took a deep breath of relief, but ended up collapsing into a heap and nearly crying from the pain. Why does it hurt to breathe? I asked myself. I gingerly touched my sides and cried out softly. I swore to myself, and lifted up my shirt to see what had happened. I hoped that my ribs were not broken. A loud obscenity passed through my lips when I saw my torso- an extremely large bruise with several scratches stretched from my left side to my right. I jerked my shirt back down and tried to pretend I never saw the injury. What I had seen had just made what happened earlier a frightening reality that I did not want to confront, ever. I shook my head and tried to distract myself by taking a look at my surroundings.
I had been deposited on a stony plateau of sorts, the stone itself was dark and marbled. I concluded that this plateau could not have been naturally made, the angles precise and almost non-euclidean. I continued to look, and saw several more stone pillars, although they all seemed to have been broken and heavily eroded by time. Around the ruins and myself, a vast body of water spread even beyond the horizon. The waters were a tranquil turquoise, with small ripples from an unseen breeze working their way towards their unknown destination. I cannot recall how long I was there, but all I could do was rest due to the injury to my ribs.
Eventually the sky began showing azure traces of twilight; and when I looked up, my voice was caught in my throat. Not only was the sky darkening, as it should have, but the constantly changing multi-hued lines flitting and dancing around the deepening night sky only meant one thing: the Aurora Borealis. But why was it occurring here?
When the sun set, I attempted to stand on my feet. Ignoring the pain from my bruised ribs and lower spine, I was able to stand for a few minutes before I was overwhelmed by agony, and eased myself back into a comfortable position. I slowly moved my way towards the edge of the plateau I was on, and was able to splash a bit of the water on my face. The water was cool and refreshed me quite a bit. I began to wonder how I was going to leave the stone mesa. Maybe, I hoped, I would heal within a few days...but where could I go? I was surrounded by water, and maybe the hideous tentacled beast-thing was down there somewhere, waiting to finish the job. After several hours of thinking and attempted planning, I fell into a fitful slumber. During my small respite, I had several perplexing dreams that mainly focused on the waters next to me, and a wheelchair. I heard the voice of a man calling out, asking for my assistance. “Eva!” he said sharply, and I jerked my head up and gasped. A slight hiss escaped my lips when the strong inhalation jostled my injury. Slowly moving my hand up to my face, I rubbed my eyes and noticed the sun was not up yet. I let out a small sigh, and reclined my head back down onto the hard floor. No matter what, I needed rest. With a clear head I figured I could sort it all out.
Ch 1 - The Book
I sped down the highway, toward the turnoff my friend Becka had indicated on a small hand-drawn map. She had called me about a week ago, to tell me she had found a deal on a house out in the desert, and had jumped at the opportunity. Her original home situation wasn't all that great, so a chance of escaping her surroundings in any way was a welcome opportunity. Of course, when she got there to check it out, the home was a little more of a fixer-upper, and she had rang me to see if I would help her clean the place out so she could move her things in. I had asked her why it was such a mess to begin with, but all she told me was that the realtor was rather silent about the issue and had claimed that the previous occupants had left in a hurry.
Finding said turnoff, I braked and turned down the semi-paved road that led to the run-down home. The home was in a depressing state of decrepitude, and I wondered why on God's green earth she had chosen such a miserable place to live. The porch was in disarray; the wood rotted and gnawed on by some kind of wild desert animal. Pits in the drive made me swerve as to not bottom out my truck. We had a lot of work to do, but we had to clean the inside first, so she could get her furniture inside. I nervously made my way up the porch, teetering precariously on a few weak boards. How was she going to get her stuff in there?
She came to the door approximately a minute and a half from when I knocked. Her face was red from exertion, a few blonde wisps from her pulled back hair had fallen in front of her eyes. She opened the door, and retreated to a lone couch, one that the previous tenants had apparently left.
"I need a break. Thanks for coming, Eva." She stifled a yawn, and sprawled on the couch.
"Think nothing of it, you're my best friend." I looked around the living room, piles of boxes and taller piles of trash and junk occupying most of the space. "Now let's see what kind of magic I can work on this place..." I grabbed a trash bag, and began stuffing. Something on the floor, away from the designated piles, caught my eye.
"Hey," I said to her as she lounged lazily on the couch. "What's this? Is this some kind of antique book? Is this yours?"
The figure on the couch stirred uneasily. "No... You're kidding, right?" She arched her body forward, expressing interest.
"Seriously, Becka. I thought you had everything in piles already. If this is yours..."
"But I don't have any of those kinds of books, Eva. They don't interest me, and they're too expensive to boot. You must be playing a trick on me."
I sighed and moved over to the couch, armed with the questionable book. "Yes, because I magically pulled an old book out of my ass," and lightly smacked the book on the crown of Becka's head. "You, ma'am, are ridiculous." I let out another sigh and sat next to my friend. "So... let's read this." I said, nudging her.
"Okay, sure. I've never seen a book quite like this before..." her voice trailed, leading to an uneasy pause.
"You chickening out?" I jabbed playfully. "Though I do have to say... I haven't either." I stared at the cover for a few minutes, wondering what to do with it. The paper seemed heavier than usual, the front and back covers a hideous deep olive green. The cover seemed to resemble an ancient book, artfully designed 'cracks' on the paper gave it a rather disturbing aura, but I just couldn't quite place where the uneasiness was truly coming from. The book smelled of forest, damp earth with pine, and faint traces of a sea odor. Slowly turning the book over in my hands, I eyed the back cover. As soon as I began my cursory examination of the back, I found strange symbols on the bottom, and upon closer examination, found something hastily scribbled on the upper left hand side. It was faint and only a few words I recognized. Shivering with a sudden feeling of foreboding, I looked at Becka. "Huh. It says, 'Help,' um, I think here it says, 'find me.' What the Hell?" I nearly threw the book down. "I think there's some seriously strange ju ju around this, man."
"Something weird for sure. But let's see what's inside." Becka urged, and nodded toward the book I held in my slightly quaking hands.
"You sure?" I asked, silently wishing my comrade would voice her disapproval. Whatever this book was, it was bad news. Everything about it made my hair stand up at attention; the mysterious arrival, the wretched looking binding, the hand-written "HELP" on the back... Every thing inside me screamed, "No, Don't!"
-I should have listened.-
Yet, Fate has a mysterious way of showing when you least expect it. I wonder, was it Fate that led us to open the book?
--
I looked to Becka, then noticed that the sun must have begun its slow descent to the west. Benign shadows stretched across the floor, over boxes, and hid away in corners. I realized that the quickly diminishing light would not be very helpful while we tried to read the book. "I'm going to turn on the light, okay?" I asked, standing up.
"Yeah, no problem. The switch is over by the hallway."
"'Kay." I walked over to the switch and flipped it up. Immediately, the living room was bathed in encouraging brightness. I relaxed a little bit. I didn't understand why a book, of all things, was giving me the heebie-jeebies. "Want me to grab a drink while I'm near the 'fridge?" I asked, trying to delay the inevitable.
"Sure. Oh, dig around in there somewhere, I think I got some beer a while ago. I didn't have anyone to share it with, so it's been sitting there. Take one for yourself too." Becka said. Looking over at her, she seemed to be trying to relax as well. Maybe the beer would help. I opened the door of the refrigerator and managed to find the beer that she spoke of. I quickly grabbed two, and opened the tops as I walked back toward the living room. Handing her one, I sat back down on the couch and took a long sip. Purposefully trying to ignore the book, I looked out the window closest to the door. It was opened, letting a cool comforting breeze pass through. I let the breeze sweep around me as I closed my eyes. Even spring in the desert was a horrid affair. There was no in-between. It was either cold, or hot, and neither were very comfortable. I opened my eyes and took another sip; well, more like a chug, from my bottle.
"Ready?" I asked.
"More than I'll ever be, I guess." Becka replied. I touched the book then, and it felt as if something might have changed. Maybe it was the beer. When I had first looked at the book, some of what I saw indicated a rather cheaply made book, with just artistic touches added to the covers. This time, the covers truly did look ancient and dilapidated, cracks splitting the worn leather, bits of the book crumbling in my hands. I shot my hand back, away from the musty tome.
"Jesus Christ!" I shouted. Becka jumped slightly.
"Wh..what is it?" She asked. I shook my head.
"I'm not sure. Like, you know...the book was creepy at first. But it was still kind of cheap. But now...dude. You touch it. I can't even begin to tell you how wrong that felt." I sat back and edged the book toward my friend. "I think... I think the book changed somehow."
Becka looked at me, a frown on her face. I highly doubt she had actually believed me. "Touch it, you'll see. I swear!" I poked at the book. Finally, she relented, and grabbed the book. A look of pained horror shot through her features. Her mouth coiled into a silent cry.
"That's not right, not right at all! It's... its... real? Maybe it's alive too! Oh God!" She said after she managed to regain her voice. I grabbed the book from her before she had the opportunity to drop it, or throw it.
"We've come this far, let's open it already." I said impatiently, and quickly flipped the front cover. As soon I did so, the front door flew open and slammed into the wall next to it, breaking the door stopper and letting out a huge cracking noise, indicating the wall must have cracked under the force of the door. We both shot out of our seats, and were met with gale force winds from an abrupt dust storm. I fell to my knees to huddle up and protect my face from the biting wind and dust, and Becka quickly followed suit. Having no other alternative, we remained coiled for what felt like hours. Finally, it seemed as if the nightmare was over. The gale had been replaced by quieter, calmer winds, but the damage had been done. Both of us went to the door to check the damage. Becka shut the door again, making sure it was locked tightly. Where the door had been, a large hole remained from where the handle had broken through. "That...was weird." I said softly.
"I think that qualifies for the 'Understatement of the year' award, Eva." She said, as she walked toward the window to close it as well. We both laughed nervously. Dusting ourselves off, we moved back toward the couch.
"Damn it!" I threw my hands up into the air. "The wind knocked over the beers." I moved closer to the coffee table. "But, the book hasn't moved at all. The pages haven't flipped or anything!" I sat back down on my side of the couch and peered at the seemingly untouched book. "Oh, neat... Look at this symbol. Doesn't it look familiar?"
"Should it?" Asked Becka.
"It should..." I rolled up my left sleeve. There it was, the same symbol. A star, or pentagram, that appeared to have been created out of haste. The 'arms' and 'legs' of the symbol were disproportionate; and in the center, sat what appeared to be a flaming eye. The image was chilling. "Why is there an Elder sign on this book?" I wondered out loud, to nobody in particular.
"Elder sign?" Becka inquired, reaching out her hand to poke at the sign.
"A fictional device, used in certain stories. I'm sure you've read H.P. Lovecraft's stories." I kept staring at the sign as I spoke. I looked in Becka's direction, and noticed she had a blank look on her face. "Call of Cthulhu? The Shadow Over Innsmouth?" Her face remained expressionless. "For crying out loud, lady, you need to do some reading. The man's stuff was brilliant. Very very creepy."
"I'll take your word for it." Becka said. "What's an Elder sign?"
"Well, it depends on the story. Heh. We...well, us humans, don't know what exactly they do. Could be a protection symbol, could be a seal. It could be anything really. But my guess is protection. But, its like I said; a fictional device. It doesn't do a damn thing."
"So why do you have it tattooed?" Becka pointed at my tattoo then, giving me a suspicious eye.
"I don't know. I just felt like I had to." I shrugged. "Plus, I'm a fan of Lovecraft and the Mythos." I went back to looking at the book. "I find it strange, however, that a book like this has an Elder sign. As if whoever put it on there actually believed it served a purpose." I looked at the introduction page. The only marking on it was some kind of stain. I turned the page, and found that there were no words, but drawings and symbols. Faded images; page after page of them, but no words. One that caught my eye was an old ruin, submerged in a lake perhaps, or even an ocean somewhere.
"This has to be the weirdest book I've ever seen." Becka interjected, staring at the pages. "What are these markings? Doodles? Absolute nonsense to me, at least. You're the expert, you have any ideas?"
"I'm not an expert! I just read some stories, that's all. It's all supposed to be fiction. This is ridiculous." I said, a little frustrated. "You have to admit, its one of a kind though."
"I guess." Becka replied, looking disinterested. "For all the creepy, it's kind of a let down." She stood up and grabbed a broom and began sweeping the dust and dirt that had collected from the earlier incident.
"You think so?" I reclined back into the couch, bringing the book back with me. "Your loss, amiga." I continued flipping through the rest of the pages, though for some reason found myself focused on the image of the submerged ruins. When I flipped to the last page, I finally found writing. "Hey, Becka, I found writing! I don't know what it says, though. What the hell kind of language is this?!" The page read:
Y'ai 'ng'ngah,
Yog-Sothoth!
h'ee-l'geb
f'ai throdog
uaaah!
Iä Yog-Sothoth! Iä!
Becka peered over my shoulder. "Whatever it is, it's probably just there to freak you out." We both chuckled a little, and she wandered off to finish up her sweeping. I looked up at her for a moment, then went back to eying the book. There was one more page after the strange verse, and I flipped it. More writing. It looked relatively fresh, but the words were scratched as if written in an insane flurry. What followed was almost a moment of strange enlightenment...
"Yog-Sothoth knows the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the gate. Yog-Sothoth is the key and guardian of the gate. Past, present, future, all are one in Yog-Sothoth. ~HPL"
"Yog-Sothoth...H.P.L. Wonderful, it's quoting Lovecraft. This book, whatever it is, is such a load." I said, slightly dejected. "If you don't want this, I'll take it home. It'd be a good find for my collection, at least."
Becka perked her head up from dumping the dirt outside. "Yeah, sure. No problem. You don't want to trash it?" She asked.
"No, not yet at least. Want to do some research, maybe I'll find something."
"Suit yourself. Say, we still have a lot of work to do. Do you mind staying over for the night? We can just play some games tonight, then continue when the sun rises."
"No problem. I didn't really want to go home anyway." I laughed, and set the book aside.
"Okay then, let me go into town and pick up some pizza for dinner. Try to hold the fort down." Becka playfully winked as she walked towards the door.
"I'm not sure how I'd fare against a psychotic wind from the netherworld, Becka." I laughed again and stuck my tongue out at her.
Eventually I heard her car start, and the rumbling of the tires as she backed out from the dirt drive. Within a matter of minutes, I was surrounded by impenetrable silence. I sat there on the couch, for how long, I cannot recall. But something was happening with that old junky book. Maybe the silence was getting to me. Was it...was it calling me? I felt an urge to pick it up once more, perhaps even with a sense of urgency. Strange thoughts swirled in my mind, recollections of my childhood, all the close friends I've had since I was a child, and my lovers. Only one dominated my mind at the end though, it was James...a thousand feelings poured from me; depression, from not being able to see him, a radiating light of love...I found myself gripping the book tightly, turned to the second to last page. In a half trance, I was able to call out the alien language.
"...Iä Yog-Sothoth! Iä!"
I gasped out the last syllable and I felt another rush of air, but I was also greeted with a darkness that no light could penetrate. It felt as if I had the wind knocked out of me, and I was soon released to sweet unconsciousness.
Chapter 2
In the black depths I found myself. I was surrounded by darkness still, and I began to think that I was dead. My mind reeled, trying to comprehend where I was, and how I got there. I vaguely recalled an incantation of sorts, and mentally slapped myself for being so foolish. A slight ~twitch~, a small spasm, nudged me back from my internal wanderings.
“Becka?” I cried out. To my astonishment, my mouth never moved. “Wha-what's going on here?” I felt the fear rising from the pit of my stomach. “Where am I?” I screamed out into the void. My voice echoed through the darkness, but again my lips did not, or perhaps could not move. What I had at first thought was an infinite gulf contracted, then expanded around me. I thought I spied something shivering in the distance. Was...was it alive?!
I had little time to consider the thought, for I was suddenly grabbed and shaken by an invisible force. I did not know what it was then, and I do not dare to even think of it now! The way it was shaking, I felt like a small, cheap rag doll. If I had been in poor constitution, the shaking would most assuredly have broken me in two. The unearthly shaking, the strange feeling of being gripped by unseen hands; dare I even call them hands! I recall the texture; it was a bizarre feeling of slimy cold rubber, and it was as if it was a part of the darkness itself. I felt its grip constrict against me, and I quickly realized as I attempted to writhe my way from it's grasp that it was some kind of tentacled limb. I let out an ear piercing scream, thinking that I had gone insane right then and there. I screamed and screamed, feeling tendrils of madness lashing at the edges of my mind. The screaming continued until all the air in my lungs had escaped, and I slouched forward, limp and comatose in the grip of whatever monstrosity had me.
-------
Something bright was shining in my closed eyes. I tried to keep my eyelids tightly shut, but I soon became aware of one sound enveloping my frayed senses. It was water, splashing against something. It was not a violent splashing, but gentle lapping against something like a boat. As consciousness slowly returned to my form, I raised my head up and opened my eyes. At first, I was blinded by the new light that met my eyes, the same eyes that had been shut in darkness for who knows how long. After rubbing my eyes and blinking-my attempt to slowly accustom my eyes- I was able to see again. I took a deep breath of relief, but ended up collapsing into a heap and nearly crying from the pain. Why does it hurt to breathe? I asked myself. I gingerly touched my sides and cried out softly. I swore to myself, and lifted up my shirt to see what had happened. I hoped that my ribs were not broken. A loud obscenity passed through my lips when I saw my torso- an extremely large bruise with several scratches stretched from my left side to my right. I jerked my shirt back down and tried to pretend I never saw the injury. What I had seen had just made what happened earlier a frightening reality that I did not want to confront, ever. I shook my head and tried to distract myself by taking a look at my surroundings.
I had been deposited on a stony plateau of sorts, the stone itself was dark and marbled. I concluded that this plateau could not have been naturally made, the angles precise and almost non-euclidean. I continued to look, and saw several more stone pillars, although they all seemed to have been broken and heavily eroded by time. Around the ruins and myself, a vast body of water spread even beyond the horizon. The waters were a tranquil turquoise, with small ripples from an unseen breeze working their way towards their unknown destination. I cannot recall how long I was there, but all I could do was rest due to the injury to my ribs.
Eventually the sky began showing azure traces of twilight; and when I looked up, my voice was caught in my throat. Not only was the sky darkening, as it should have, but the constantly changing multi-hued lines flitting and dancing around the deepening night sky only meant one thing: the Aurora Borealis. But why was it occurring here?
When the sun set, I attempted to stand on my feet. Ignoring the pain from my bruised ribs and lower spine, I was able to stand for a few minutes before I was overwhelmed by agony, and eased myself back into a comfortable position. I slowly moved my way towards the edge of the plateau I was on, and was able to splash a bit of the water on my face. The water was cool and refreshed me quite a bit. I began to wonder how I was going to leave the stone mesa. Maybe, I hoped, I would heal within a few days...but where could I go? I was surrounded by water, and maybe the hideous tentacled beast-thing was down there somewhere, waiting to finish the job. After several hours of thinking and attempted planning, I fell into a fitful slumber. During my small respite, I had several perplexing dreams that mainly focused on the waters next to me, and a wheelchair. I heard the voice of a man calling out, asking for my assistance. “Eva!” he said sharply, and I jerked my head up and gasped. A slight hiss escaped my lips when the strong inhalation jostled my injury. Slowly moving my hand up to my face, I rubbed my eyes and noticed the sun was not up yet. I let out a small sigh, and reclined my head back down onto the hard floor. No matter what, I needed rest. With a clear head I figured I could sort it all out.