Necrum
I AM THE REAL SONIC
- 5,090
- Posts
- 11
- Years
- Portland, OR
- Seen May 2, 2024
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I began writing this short story back in September, on the night of the lunar eclipse and blood moon. It actually came as a surprise to me, as I knew it was coming but hadn't noted the actual date. About halfway through writing it in October, though, my computer failed completely. I have only recently been able to recover the first half and fuse it to what I wrote as the conclusion.
Bear in mind that this is still a first draft, some of the descriptions are a bit clumsy, and I intend to improve upon it in the future. This work is not to be reproduced in any form. It is not a CreepyPasta, so do not copy and paste it to some other website. I only post it here looking for feedback.
Warning: This is a horror story of sorts, and features some disturbing imagery. It is not heavy on violence, but if you don't like freaky demons you might want to stay away.
[/FONT]
Bear in mind that this is still a first draft, some of the descriptions are a bit clumsy, and I intend to improve upon it in the future. This work is not to be reproduced in any form. It is not a CreepyPasta, so do not copy and paste it to some other website. I only post it here looking for feedback.
Warning: This is a horror story of sorts, and features some disturbing imagery. It is not heavy on violence, but if you don't like freaky demons you might want to stay away.
[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Eclipse
I stood in the middle of my gravel driveway, the cool rocks prickling my exposed piggies. I could barely make out the pale, twinkling stars above. Somehow, the absolute darkness of the eclipsed moon extended beyond the grasp of terrestrial soil. A grim shadow hanging over my head, ever hungry to steal the soothing comfort of light. From in this shadow, I was blind to the artifacts of the full moon, only just seen the night before. A single cricket continued its song into the uncouth void. The rest, too fearful of the daemon.
[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]At first I didn't notice him. A black figure against a black air, against a black tree line. My eyes attuned, though, in the attempt to pull stars out of the tar, allowing me a glimpse of his eyes before he turned away, not in shame, but in hiding. I must admit, it was difficult to track the daemon in its patterns, most sporadic. The practice became much simpler, however, the second I realized he was circling me. He would make it halfway around the ring before starting in the other direction, always give or take up to a dozen feet. He shifted back and forth around me for quite some time. Long enough that I almost forgot about the stars. I dared not look away from the daemon.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Without any warning, the daemon stopped, now precisely opposite of his origin, his dubious intentions hiding just behind the great blackness of the night. My throat clenched anxiously, protecting me from my own curiosity. The daemon began to stride through the gravel, his feet, if they were so, disturbing none in their path. As he approached me, I became painfully aware of my miscalculation. When I first saw the daemon, I made the mistake of assuming he was of human height, and for that matter, human proportions. At a distance I could tell he was not a man, but I could not have imagined how chaotic the difference was. He had the staples: two arms, two legs, a head with hair. He was not unlike humans, and yet he was. His fingers were crooked, and variable in size and direction. As if none of them shared the same master. His elbows hanged far behind the connecting wrists. As clichéd as it sounds, the daemon's thighs started forward, before shooting back and forth in a frightful zigzag, like a goat's legs. To my disgust, I managed to distinguish a pair of very human feet, connected to their winding source. The combination of features churned my unspilled gore.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I knew exactly how this would end. I'd seen dozens, if not hundreds of horror films in my lifetime. I was screwed no matter what I did. Stay where I am, the monster would surely eat me. If I run, the monster would chase me on those nauseous legs, whose movements made no noise. I stood there for what felt like a thousand eternities, though I knew better, the moon refused to return. Or perhaps it was that long, and I simply could not track time properly without the aid of the waxing moon.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]The daemon now stood mere inches away from me, his breath filling my lungs with the thick air, the rotten air, an air so vile, no being, alive or dead, on Earth could possibly produce. It was like breathing in the rotting air of beached whales infused with the dense aroma of the New Orleans French Quarter on a miserably hot afternoon. My torso buckled in response to a stabbing burn in my chest, surely a reaction to the foul concoction. All I could hear was the wheezing of my own voice as I struggled to breathe the stifling air.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I tilted my head toward the daemon, cautiously. He towered well above me, as if some force had reverted me to childhood. I had not looked up at anyone since the sixth grade. My P.E. teacher used to look down on me in exactly the same way as he "encouraged" me to work harder. The humiliation ate at me from the inside for the entirety of my summer break, before puberty decided it was my fate to stand among the gods. It seemed now that daemons stood even taller.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Over the daemon's shoulder, I could see it at last. A sliver of silver amongst the inky void. And then it came. The first glimpse of light revealed the daemon's face. A myriad of razor sharp teeth lined the edge of the daemon's eyelids, every blink a sinister, snapping snarl. His pupils slanted like a cat, glowing a deep, blood crimson from the surrounding iris. Of his nose, I can say nothing, for there was little more than a flat surface where you might find one. Numerous lightly colored scales were pulled tight over the structure of the daemon's face, each one more grotesque than the last. His wild, black hair was perhaps the most mundane of his features. It didn't look any more normal than the rest of this fetid abomination, but it was unkempt to the extreme. As if it belonged to metropolis sloth, a low class of human existence, living in their own filth for months. Never bathing. Never thinking. Never-[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Argentum aut anima vestra." The daemon's voice was startlingly deep. A tone almost beyond the range of mortal ears.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"W-what?" It was the only question I could think of. The one word that now consumed my brain's every function. Every facet. Every-[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Sil… ver… or… your… soul." The daemon struggled with the foreign words, its native tongue betrayed by the alien structure of American English. The message made no sense, though. Silver? What use is silver to a daemon so impossible?[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Why silver? Why now? Why-"[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Luna sacrificium postulat." The daemon paused, lines of frustration were clear even on the scaly surface of the daemon's face. "The… Moon… de… mands… sacrifice!" Suddenly, everything clicked in my brain. My subconscious calculation finally reaching the logical conclusion of an illogical situation.
[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
This was a special daemon. A servant, not of the bowels below the terrestrial crust, but of noble Luna, hanging high in the aethereal void. On this, the night of the eclipse, Luna required something lost in the darkness. Her shine, only returned after claiming the shine of human currency, or the shine of human life. An offering collected by a monster not beyond getting dirt in its ill formed nails. For man is beyond her grasp.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
My fingers moved with the skill and precision their craft demanded. Like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Gene Simmons before me, [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]their musical intricacies[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] was put to use in a different way. They turned their fingers towards the pleasure of women, however. Whereas mine were now turned to scrambling desperately at my pockets, attempting to find something of value the daemon could take in place of my one and only eternal soul. No crevice or fold of the cloth was left unchecked at least three times over. No matter how desperately I searched, the emptiness of my pockets never changed.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
I turned my head back toward the daemon, now seeming only inches from my face. Under the increasing light of the moon, I could finally see it. The one feature I knew had to be there, and yet had eluded me until that point. The daemon had spoken to me. Surely it had a mouth, right? I regret with all of my still heart that I had not been left unaware of its existence. The fearsome maw was filled with the same darkness that had until very recently filled the starlit sky. I could see not tongue, nor gum, nor cheek, nor uvula. All that was was teeth. Horrid, jagged teeth. In every crux and crevice, save the endless pit of shadow it descended into. The servant of Luna was the shadow it cast, this daemon a physical manifestation of the eclipse itself.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
My witness to the shadow had cast both regret and hope in a single moment. This clear contrast to the night sky meant that Luna was regaining strength. If I could just delay the inevitable long enough to allow her full recovery, I might just escape with my life in tact. But I knew far better than that. The daemon was becoming impatient after my aborant display of desperation.[/FONT]
"[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Time… is… up."[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
Panic consumed my very being, allowing me nothing but a shivering convulsion in reaction to the daemon's declared decision. I was dead, and nothing but Heaven above could save me. But Heaven has no sway in the shadows. And Heaven was too far from my reach now. And Heaven was no longer in my heart. And Heaven-[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
The daemon wasted no more time. It seemed I had reached the end of my perceived story. If only I had realized at that time how wrong I was. Perhaps I may then have enjoyed my transition. But I had not. And I did not. The daemon swung his arm with great precision and speed, or at least I think it was speed. Perhaps his fingers had been at my throat the whole time. The first finger penetrated my left jugular, my conscious mind aware of every cell separated in the process. As the finger reached my apple, I the others began to flow through the path cut by the pioneer. The blood began to gush down my sweat shirt, the drain sucking all semblance of heat from my corpse. With every remaining beat of my heart, the splotch became bigger and more crimson. The silver light of the moon had nearly returned to its full glory, and in this revelation, I could see the unending guilt upon the daemon's face as he carved me from ear to ear.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
I didn't feel the rest of the gash. The icy touch of the air on my declining body had made me numb to even the gravel. I thought about all the people who would miss me, I wish now that I could tell them I am always watching. Always leaving a prayer for their hopes, dreams, and wellbeing. If only. If only.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
A drop of warmth? Impossible. I was already dead, and the dead do not feel. In the eternity that had passed those few seconds, I had forgotten how to read my senses properly. [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Warmth? How? Where? [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I could not perceive until another eternity had brought me to realize that my own blood had warmed the piggies. A final solace of a shoeless night, a recovery from cool touch of the gravel. In my final moment, before the daemon took me away, I became aware of every pebble in the girth of my driveway. Every subtle tilt of every subtle shard overloaded my senses with information that until that very moment I had ignored for its lack of relevance.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
The daemon smiled, and I felt comfort.I must have been mad, comfort. I guess I came to understand that the grotesque form was disconnected from the beast's true nature. The last breath of my life released with it a shining light, whose brilliance illuminated every star in the cosmic pit. The last thing I saw before abandoning my body was the absolute beauty of Mother Luna, her embrace sucking from me the light I had just exhumed.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
After that, there was nothing left for my body to see. The darkness seemed to return, only for a minute. When I finally saw once more, I was looking down on Earth, my home of twenty five years. I now help Mother Luna, every night, every day, providing humanity with something greater, something to aspire towards, something to inspire artists, something-[/FONT]
I stood in the middle of my gravel driveway, the cool rocks prickling my exposed piggies. I could barely make out the pale, twinkling stars above. Somehow, the absolute darkness of the eclipsed moon extended beyond the grasp of terrestrial soil. A grim shadow hanging over my head, ever hungry to steal the soothing comfort of light. From in this shadow, I was blind to the artifacts of the full moon, only just seen the night before. A single cricket continued its song into the uncouth void. The rest, too fearful of the daemon.
[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]At first I didn't notice him. A black figure against a black air, against a black tree line. My eyes attuned, though, in the attempt to pull stars out of the tar, allowing me a glimpse of his eyes before he turned away, not in shame, but in hiding. I must admit, it was difficult to track the daemon in its patterns, most sporadic. The practice became much simpler, however, the second I realized he was circling me. He would make it halfway around the ring before starting in the other direction, always give or take up to a dozen feet. He shifted back and forth around me for quite some time. Long enough that I almost forgot about the stars. I dared not look away from the daemon.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Without any warning, the daemon stopped, now precisely opposite of his origin, his dubious intentions hiding just behind the great blackness of the night. My throat clenched anxiously, protecting me from my own curiosity. The daemon began to stride through the gravel, his feet, if they were so, disturbing none in their path. As he approached me, I became painfully aware of my miscalculation. When I first saw the daemon, I made the mistake of assuming he was of human height, and for that matter, human proportions. At a distance I could tell he was not a man, but I could not have imagined how chaotic the difference was. He had the staples: two arms, two legs, a head with hair. He was not unlike humans, and yet he was. His fingers were crooked, and variable in size and direction. As if none of them shared the same master. His elbows hanged far behind the connecting wrists. As clichéd as it sounds, the daemon's thighs started forward, before shooting back and forth in a frightful zigzag, like a goat's legs. To my disgust, I managed to distinguish a pair of very human feet, connected to their winding source. The combination of features churned my unspilled gore.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I knew exactly how this would end. I'd seen dozens, if not hundreds of horror films in my lifetime. I was screwed no matter what I did. Stay where I am, the monster would surely eat me. If I run, the monster would chase me on those nauseous legs, whose movements made no noise. I stood there for what felt like a thousand eternities, though I knew better, the moon refused to return. Or perhaps it was that long, and I simply could not track time properly without the aid of the waxing moon.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]The daemon now stood mere inches away from me, his breath filling my lungs with the thick air, the rotten air, an air so vile, no being, alive or dead, on Earth could possibly produce. It was like breathing in the rotting air of beached whales infused with the dense aroma of the New Orleans French Quarter on a miserably hot afternoon. My torso buckled in response to a stabbing burn in my chest, surely a reaction to the foul concoction. All I could hear was the wheezing of my own voice as I struggled to breathe the stifling air.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I tilted my head toward the daemon, cautiously. He towered well above me, as if some force had reverted me to childhood. I had not looked up at anyone since the sixth grade. My P.E. teacher used to look down on me in exactly the same way as he "encouraged" me to work harder. The humiliation ate at me from the inside for the entirety of my summer break, before puberty decided it was my fate to stand among the gods. It seemed now that daemons stood even taller.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Over the daemon's shoulder, I could see it at last. A sliver of silver amongst the inky void. And then it came. The first glimpse of light revealed the daemon's face. A myriad of razor sharp teeth lined the edge of the daemon's eyelids, every blink a sinister, snapping snarl. His pupils slanted like a cat, glowing a deep, blood crimson from the surrounding iris. Of his nose, I can say nothing, for there was little more than a flat surface where you might find one. Numerous lightly colored scales were pulled tight over the structure of the daemon's face, each one more grotesque than the last. His wild, black hair was perhaps the most mundane of his features. It didn't look any more normal than the rest of this fetid abomination, but it was unkempt to the extreme. As if it belonged to metropolis sloth, a low class of human existence, living in their own filth for months. Never bathing. Never thinking. Never-[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Argentum aut anima vestra." The daemon's voice was startlingly deep. A tone almost beyond the range of mortal ears.[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"W-what?" It was the only question I could think of. The one word that now consumed my brain's every function. Every facet. Every-[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Sil… ver… or… your… soul." The daemon struggled with the foreign words, its native tongue betrayed by the alien structure of American English. The message made no sense, though. Silver? What use is silver to a daemon so impossible?[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Why silver? Why now? Why-"[/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]"Luna sacrificium postulat." The daemon paused, lines of frustration were clear even on the scaly surface of the daemon's face. "The… Moon… de… mands… sacrifice!" Suddenly, everything clicked in my brain. My subconscious calculation finally reaching the logical conclusion of an illogical situation.
[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
This was a special daemon. A servant, not of the bowels below the terrestrial crust, but of noble Luna, hanging high in the aethereal void. On this, the night of the eclipse, Luna required something lost in the darkness. Her shine, only returned after claiming the shine of human currency, or the shine of human life. An offering collected by a monster not beyond getting dirt in its ill formed nails. For man is beyond her grasp.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
My fingers moved with the skill and precision their craft demanded. Like Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Gene Simmons before me, [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]their musical intricacies[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif] was put to use in a different way. They turned their fingers towards the pleasure of women, however. Whereas mine were now turned to scrambling desperately at my pockets, attempting to find something of value the daemon could take in place of my one and only eternal soul. No crevice or fold of the cloth was left unchecked at least three times over. No matter how desperately I searched, the emptiness of my pockets never changed.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
I turned my head back toward the daemon, now seeming only inches from my face. Under the increasing light of the moon, I could finally see it. The one feature I knew had to be there, and yet had eluded me until that point. The daemon had spoken to me. Surely it had a mouth, right? I regret with all of my still heart that I had not been left unaware of its existence. The fearsome maw was filled with the same darkness that had until very recently filled the starlit sky. I could see not tongue, nor gum, nor cheek, nor uvula. All that was was teeth. Horrid, jagged teeth. In every crux and crevice, save the endless pit of shadow it descended into. The servant of Luna was the shadow it cast, this daemon a physical manifestation of the eclipse itself.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
My witness to the shadow had cast both regret and hope in a single moment. This clear contrast to the night sky meant that Luna was regaining strength. If I could just delay the inevitable long enough to allow her full recovery, I might just escape with my life in tact. But I knew far better than that. The daemon was becoming impatient after my aborant display of desperation.[/FONT]
"[FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Time… is… up."[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
Panic consumed my very being, allowing me nothing but a shivering convulsion in reaction to the daemon's declared decision. I was dead, and nothing but Heaven above could save me. But Heaven has no sway in the shadows. And Heaven was too far from my reach now. And Heaven was no longer in my heart. And Heaven-[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
The daemon wasted no more time. It seemed I had reached the end of my perceived story. If only I had realized at that time how wrong I was. Perhaps I may then have enjoyed my transition. But I had not. And I did not. The daemon swung his arm with great precision and speed, or at least I think it was speed. Perhaps his fingers had been at my throat the whole time. The first finger penetrated my left jugular, my conscious mind aware of every cell separated in the process. As the finger reached my apple, I the others began to flow through the path cut by the pioneer. The blood began to gush down my sweat shirt, the drain sucking all semblance of heat from my corpse. With every remaining beat of my heart, the splotch became bigger and more crimson. The silver light of the moon had nearly returned to its full glory, and in this revelation, I could see the unending guilt upon the daemon's face as he carved me from ear to ear.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
I didn't feel the rest of the gash. The icy touch of the air on my declining body had made me numb to even the gravel. I thought about all the people who would miss me, I wish now that I could tell them I am always watching. Always leaving a prayer for their hopes, dreams, and wellbeing. If only. If only.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
A drop of warmth? Impossible. I was already dead, and the dead do not feel. In the eternity that had passed those few seconds, I had forgotten how to read my senses properly. [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]Warmth? How? Where? [/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]I could not perceive until another eternity had brought me to realize that my own blood had warmed the piggies. A final solace of a shoeless night, a recovery from cool touch of the gravel. In my final moment, before the daemon took me away, I became aware of every pebble in the girth of my driveway. Every subtle tilt of every subtle shard overloaded my senses with information that until that very moment I had ignored for its lack of relevance.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
The daemon smiled, and I felt comfort.I must have been mad, comfort. I guess I came to understand that the grotesque form was disconnected from the beast's true nature. The last breath of my life released with it a shining light, whose brilliance illuminated every star in the cosmic pit. The last thing I saw before abandoning my body was the absolute beauty of Mother Luna, her embrace sucking from me the light I had just exhumed.[/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman, serif]
After that, there was nothing left for my body to see. The darkness seemed to return, only for a minute. When I finally saw once more, I was looking down on Earth, my home of twenty five years. I now help Mother Luna, every night, every day, providing humanity with something greater, something to aspire towards, something to inspire artists, something-[/FONT]
