An Ancient Darkness

Short story touching on horror crafted by one of the great masters...

                The salty breeze lulled the waves into a flapping froth at the edges of the small dock. Little kept it together; broken wood and fragile hope perhaps. For that was the only escape from his cabin dwelling on the desolate island, surrounded for miles by ocean. And it was the only place to summon the creature...

            Water smacked the rocks hard and the wind was cool on his skin. His lantern kept skipping beats, as his heart would with each dimming of the fiery light held chest-high by his trembling hand. He knew not what he had done, not of the severity of his mistakes. He did as he was compelled, not by his own force now, though an inherent curiosity had grown inside him over the years. Only time would tell of it, as the froth bubbled from deep within the blackest part of the ocean. He finished the final line and gesture of the ancient rite, and looked out into the nothingness, the darkness of a sea that sprawled endlessly out in all directions. He heard the eerie silence amongst the churning water, but worse, he heard the jarring slaps of something stronger perhaps. Was that a moan to his left? A dunk to his right? What primitive ghosts were arising?!

Soon the sounds grew deafening and terrifying, all around him were splashes and crashes and dips and pops! It overwhelmed, swallowed all sanity, and his mind reeled. His lantern hit the ground with a shattering of glass as he clutched his ears, a wide gasping grimace on his face. Inside his brain, he could feel the creature calling as it had before, but more intensely now, crawling up his spine, through his mind, his sanity, while he pulled out strands from his scalp, screaming silently and wordlessly inside of it. The waves swelled with power and force from deep within its center, from a place that had not been touched since before this time existed. The effort it took was enormous, otherworldly, yet simple, rudimentary. The man’s mind was crawling with a thousand whispers, the creature touching and calling him, bending it inside his skull. A seeded thought struck him, flashes of primordial colors and matter. An oozing pit amongst sand and crystal, mud, and far off, celestial bodies that were yet to be such. The ancient images were fathomless and blinded the man, tore his eyes deeper into his sockets and the blackness took him completely, as blood dripped down his pale cheeks. He howled then, a guttural inhuman sound. But this was drowned out by water sputtering, sinking, spitting, clapping. The creeping sighs and thwacks and growls emanating from the rocks, under the dock. Splintered wood flew apart from it then and half was swept across the grass where he stood in agony, the other half swallowed by the sea.

The ocean was deafening now and ceremonial in its rhythmic sound. It bellowed and spat, yowled and gasped, flopping up around him, still holding his head, all feeling lost in his body. He was simply waiting now, waiting for what he had called upon. He had been for what seemed an eternity of study, archaic research, worship, and the gnawing doubt of physical expense as he absorbed this being, this religion into himself for the past twenty years. He was but a loyal vessel. And he was soon to be rewarded. For now was the time of reckoning. And then, out of the tumultuous sea, it arose, with a sound as loud as the water that held it for so many, many centuries. The old man could feel it, sense the coming, like a gravitational pull. He quivered from the mere force of its presence. The ocean heaved in the middle, far off in the distance, as if a tsunami wave was coming. But soon one could tell there was no wave, no water there, as it rose higher up. It was blackness, blacker than the darkest and deepest ocean crevice. The water looked gray next to it, though no light shown anywhere, except from the dying lantern flame, still clinging to its wick in the broken case. It was a blackness only known by the unseen sides of planets and deep space from whence the creature came. Nothing of Earth, and yet, it was of Earth now. Having come for sleep and so much more...

If stars had been in the sky that night, the wall of darkness would have risen to that height. It now towered over the ocean in which it was supreme ruler, from which its depths it had awakened. It blotted out the heavens with its mass and with a colossal gust, spread what seemed like wings over the horizon. A final breath left the man as he collapsed in spasms to the damp ground, blood gurgling from his mouth; blood as red as the two giant eyes above him in the far distance. The creature roared then, shaking the stormy waters which crashed upon the lands nearest by, drowning all in their path with devastating voracity and sound. In all its tremendous glory, the creature stood, fully exposed, eyes gleaming, to look upon this world. And with a last flick and hiss, the lantern dimmed and went out.

Author's Note

This was written at nite, as I sat on a deck overlooking the ocean. Everything in this story I felt at that time, the fear, the creepy popping sounds of the water, the fierce breeze. Quite a place for one's imagination to go wild. Let me know if you can feel it too and if you can understand what's taking place.

Reviews

[Douglas White]

Best time to write horror is alone at night, in the dark. This is a really well written piece of work, with the aura, cruelty, and horror of Old Gods that is strongly reminiscent of Lovecraft. The only critique I can offer is a simple technical one: your paragraphs are a trifle long; breaking them apart and using spacing between actions may very well add intensity.

Other than that, I wouldn't change a word. Excellent story!

[Erica D.]

Thank you so much! Lovecraft's stories are so eerie and imaginative, it seemed only right to pay homage, especially as I sat looking out into the darkness of the ocean. What creatures were out there?! I'm glad you enjoyed and reviewed my piece, and I agree, the spacing does need some work. Thanks again! :-)