I found this when going through old writings. I posted it as is.
The void stares back.
I.
I have stared into the face of madness, and I would say that I wasn't changed by its hideous façade. The gods of old be with us for there is a new evil let loose upon this world. An evil that is unlike any this planet has seen in millions of years. My tale may start here but it is also where it will end. With this gun resting beside me I am ready to take my own life as soon as I have transcribed this warning to you. There is so much to say but with every moment I feel as if death is breathing down my neck. Begging me with its soft sensual voice to raise the gun and eject these memories from my head onto the wall behind me. But I cannot bring myself to doom the human race like that; it is my duty to warn everyone I can of the impending disaster that hides just over the horizon. I guess I should start my story with my trip overseas.
I was forced to go to Iraq for an investigative dig outside the ancient city of Mesopotamia. a group of men found some interesting figurines that matched some I had found on a previous dig closer to the Caucasus Mountains north of the city. Upon getting there I was instantly pulled into the dig site by the crew; apparently they had already discovered something. I carefully crawled into the hole and made my way into what looked to be a burial chamber. The air was stale as I moved deeper into the cavernous temple buried below the ground.
Apparently the Sumerians had erected this temple to honor some unnamed god or so was my thought at the time. I traced my hands across the wall trying to translate the patterns etched up. The cuneiform and hieroglyphics upon the walls told a tale of sacrifice and years of horrible blood shed in the name of an unholy god. As I moved deeper the tale became more elaborate, speaking of how this god's blood lust couldn't be subsided and his insatiable need to kill was wearing thin on the congregation. He was bleeding the population dry with his thirst for death and destruction.
Making my way into the sacrificial chamber I continued to decipher the writings and hieroglyphics that bring the story to its climax. Over time the people, fearing for their lives, revolted against the horrible god and used the temple to capture his essence so that they could be free of his terrible ire. The god cursed the temple with his dying breath speaking of how he would return and lay waste to everything within his path. No human would be free from his wrath as he drowns the world with the blood of his victims.
After finishing the legend I looked around the room. I could see the abattoir in the middle of the room, still and cold. It had a smooth indentation that helped the blood flow in a certain direction where it could be collected into cups for consumption. Etched upon it were elaborate caricatures acting out the sacrificial rites. I shuddered to think of all the blood that had been spilt on that altar. All the lives that had been wasted over the years in pointless sacrifice.
Running my hands along the walls in this room I came across an indention that gave under slight pressure. It was a hidden lock to a yet unfound door; I couldn't help but to become excited. This was such an important discovery that I shook nervously with anticipation. My anticipation mixed with a touch of fear and anxiety started to nip at the back of my neck. I lingered on the thoughts of the god as I looked around the room. The air was still in this room as I searched around trying to find the hidden door I had unlocked. The walls didn't seem to hide anything except the lock and after a quick search it seemed the door had disappeared completely. The room had closed itself up when I hit the switch and now I was locked in. With the thoughts of suffocation running through my head the air became suddenly thick and sweat began to pour from my brow.
Panic rises in my throat and I desperately try to swallow it down before I completely lose my composure. There didn't seem to be a possible escape for me because I couldn't even find the switch that had originally set this trap in motion. I began to lose hope as the room spun around me and I collapsed on to the ground. I became incredibly disoriented and dizzy right before I blacked out.
Upon awakening I could smell what I thought was blood in the air. My head was pounding and I realized that some kind of noxious gas had been released into the room. I guess I didn't die because the potency had decreased over time or maybe it wasn't meant to kill in the first place. Once I got a good look around the room I noticed it had changed again. The abattoir has moved and opened a passageway leading down into the dark decades of the temple. It was the only way out of the room so I decided to descend the stairwell.
As I shined my flashlight over the stairs I could see the rodents run from its torturous touch. These animals obviously hadn't seen such light in a long time; I counted my blessings because I hated rats. I've always hated rats ever since I was a boy and was bitten by one. Still dwelling on the traumatic childhood experience I neglected to notice that I had reached the end of the stairs and was in fact just standing there in a daze. I felt weird like I was inside a dream and I could wake up. Everything around me seemed to breathe and shudder and I began to hear something in the back of my head. It was an inaudible chatting with a hypnotic rhythm.
To my surprise the room at the bottom of the stairs opened up into a large chamber; how large? I cannot say because my attention was immediately drawn to the center of the room where I gazed upon a graven figurine on a pedestal reaching up to the ceiling. This intricate statuette was carved from a light green gem like that of peridot or a fair emerald.
It was obviously put on the towering pedestal so that no one would steal it. I always managed to justify what I did by telling myself "I am not a grave robber, I am a scientist, it's my duty to protect this valuable relic from nature. It has almost become a ritual for me because I've said it the same way every time. Like a mantra that keeps repeating itself over and over again.
The memory is still fresh on my mind even as I write this. The pedestal towering over my shivering body and the figurine staring me down like it was looking into my soul. You'd understand how strong the stones hold; if you could just witness its beauty and feel its majesty . I'm not exactly sure how long it's been since I was in that temple but I remember it like it was yesterday.
The memory is so vivid it leaves sweat on my brow from the heat inside the chamber. Sometimes sitting in my chair late at night I wonder if I'm still inside that insidious chamber. Still there doing all these things I'm transcribing here for you now and all the things I remember.
Like reading the hieroglyphics of the gods containment, his horrible dismemberment, and then the gruesome beheading that followed. After his limbs were gone the priests say his head still spoke, blessing curses upon any its eyes could see. By the looks of the mummified bodies on the floor I came to the conclusion that those men died in this chamber shortly after cutting out his tongue, disemboweling, and eviscerating the body. These organs were given to other priests to be burned and then molded into these figurines in order to capture the earthly body of evil incarnate.
There is no telling what happened next because the ritual was finished and the temple was closed off. I came to the conclusion that this figurine was actually a fetish created by these primitive people to capture the soul or essence of this evil god. Thus imprisoning him for as long as the stones could be kept apart.
My eyes wandered away from the walls and back to the beautiful fetish. I couldn't keep my eyes away from it and all I wanted to do was touch it. I hadn't realized how strong the compulsion was at the time but now that I'm looking back I remember how it was all I could think about until it was in my hands. I walked up to the pillar and placed my hand upon it to see if I could get enough traction to make it all the way up the pillar. Then suddenly, as my hand rested upon the cold stone surface of the pillar the room around me started to shake. Before my eyes the pillar toppled over spilling forth the wondrous jewel of this long dead god. I rushed to grab it from the floor and I placed it in my bag for safe keeping.
Anxiousness crept over me as I placed the statuette into my bag as if I expected some kind of miraculous event to happen as I gained possession of it. This subsided shortly after that in the face of disappointment. nothing happened at that moment that could have glorified the longing i had for the stone. But the gratification of attaining had been enough to sate me.
I began to look for a way out because what good is a treasure if you die before you can prove its discovery? With the stairwell being the only exit I ascended the staircase back into the sacrificial chamber. I looked and found nothing; I began to think that I might not make it out alive. I sat down and rested for a while and soon I slept.
II.
I awoke to the sound of my crew coming toward me from a door that wasn't there before. Every last second of it had been a dream my crew says but it felt so real. The crew tried to convince me that i had just gotten knocked out from the gas and dreamt about the lower chamber that was now hidden by the abattoir. I placed my hand inside my bag and it rested against the cold surface of my newly gained treasure. I kept my proof from them for unknown reasons. I wanted to share what I had found with them but I was confused by fear. They would want it as badly as I did and I feared what that might bring. I tell myself that it was safest with me all this time. In one of their hands there is no telling what could have happened.
It probably wasn't even my own choice to keep the jewel at that point. It had started to gain a hold of my thoughts long before then. No one would be able to guess what was going on because the temple had covered the tracks. Once the men saw the chamber a little closer the next day. Their suspicion rose and they began to ask questions about my time trapped in the chamber.
As I was trying to explain to them that I had been asleep the entire time, and even if I had walked around I had no memory of it. One of the English speaking interns came to me and brought something very interesting to my attention. He had found the naked footsteps of a clawed foot circling the outside of the room. There had been no one else in the room with me of this I was sure. The only time something could have been in there without my knowing was when I was passed out. This discovery brought a shiver down my spine that almost buckled my knees.
Over the next few weeks many things started to go wrong around the campsite. People started disappearing in the night and many of the native workers complained of demons and ghosts terrorizing the landscape. Many of the men had begun to lose their minds. the men slipping in and out of deep dementia and doing horrible things to each other. They all had to be removed from the camp to keep the workers from getting spooked
The night before I was supposed to leave the dig site for American soil. Many of the amazing occurrences whispered amongst my workers decided to make themselves known to my eyes. It wasn't until then that I truly believed the stories of my interns as well. I was resting in my tent trying to sleep before my long airplane trip back to my home when the winds suddenly started to pick up. The wind blowing was the tent flaps back and forth and the insects were causing a wretched hissing in the night. It was a sound so horrible that my men could only describe it as demonic whisperings in the night's cool breeze.
I was beginning to drift off trying my hardest to ignore the loud roar that had once started as a whisper. My eyes closed for just a moment when I felt a presence inside my tent but when I opened my eyes and stood above me was a man covered in blood looking me in the face. He grins wide and I see a set of perfect teeth that are ivory white compared to his blood soaked skin. Everywhere he's touched in the tent is covered with bloody hand prints.
After this incident my sleep was restless at best; the entire night I tossed and turned with vague pictures of ancient times and lands far away shifting through my head. I awoke with heavy lids that morning and I can honestly say I have yet to truly awaken from that horrible nightmare world. Everyday since has felt more like a dream than each day before it. As I left my tent to face the burning morning sun I noticed that everyone was gone. I looked around the site all morning scouring the depths of the burial chamber and even the stack of boxes behind the tents where everyone goes to do their illegal drugs.
The camp had been evacuated before I had woken up and I was worried that something terrible had happened while I slept. As if a sense of self preservation kicked in I managed to make it back to the plane and was resting in my seat with my complimentary pack of peanuts before the thought of my missing crew really hit me. That's the last memory I remember having until I found myself sitting in my chair back at the office.
III.
With the idol I had stolen from the cavernous temple in my hand, time seemed to stop. I remember sitting there trying to decide if I was actually going to turn It in to my benefactor or add it to my private collection under the premise that I had found nothing on my journey. This was always really risky because they threatened to take my funding each time but couldn't take my eyes off of it and for the first time I was beginning to notice the inscriptions on it that I had somehow not managed to see before.
Reading the warning that ran up the sides of this idol was intoxicating to decipher. It spoke of dangers and foretold of the evil gods return and his unholy rule upon the earth. I could feel an amount of power flowing through it and into myself and in that moment I was hooked on its unrelenting flow. It seemed to speak to me personally hoping that I would own it and that I would allow it to own me.
Its hypnotic spell was broken when the night guard suddenly stepped in to say hello to me. Jerald was a good man that I had many lengthy conversations with on long nights much like this one; but I had no time for his trespasses tonight. I quickly asked him to leave and he seemed kind of hurt by my demeanor. I realized on my way back to my desk that I hadn't been home to see my family in months. They had become a distant memory in my recollection. one that had been overshadowed by my new found love and passion; the idol. Yet, with their faces still fresh on my memory I had become eager to go home to them. I packed up my bags for my trip home and headed out of the office leaving the idol there for the evening. I was determined to see my family without work being in the way.
As I got home I could see that my wife had been long asleep but was still happy to see me. I checked in on my son to see him resting peacefully before returning to my wife's side. We made love that night with a fiery passion I had almost forgotten existed and we both fell asleep soon after. Even though I slept, my sleep was restless and exhausting because I woke up many times and had many nightmares. I woke up in the middle of the night at one point with cold sweat beading from my forehead and hands. I felt thirsty but I couldn't sate my need for water. After that I got up and nursed cup after cup all night until my wife awoke to find me flipping through late night sitcoms and endless infomercials.
After we had breakfast I managed to find time to have a moment with my son before he left for school and I made my way to the office to study my findings once more. I was in a rush to get back to the statuette yet I hadn't realized it until I dared to take the stairs at a full run instead of waiting for the elevator like I usually do. Out of breath I came in my office door at full speed and managed not to calm down until my satchel was back in my hands. The moment I dug the idol out of it my energy was restored to me like a heroin addict getting his daily fix. I was rejuvenated and happy to be out of my lethargic state that had loomed over me the entire morning.
It seemed like it was trying to teach me something yet I still couldn't manage to bring it home with me at the end of the day. Yet another night of amazing sex and restless sleep wasn't enough to keep me too worried. There had been plenty of times that I had gone without sleep and I was sure that there would be many more. What really bothered me though, was how fresh and alive I felt when I held this odd graven image of a long dead god in my hands.
The moment I began deciphering again my secretary Susan came through the door speaking loudly and panicked about how they had found Jerald downstairs in the boiler room with his skin removed from his body. She was pallid and very faint as she gasped for breath. I helped her out of the building and sat her down on a retaining wall outside of the building. I called her a cab and gave her the rest of the day off. Making my way back to the building I was stopped by police and told to stay clear. I acknowledged and then went around back to climb through the window in the lounge.
They had the building evacuated for the day but I was able to hide in my office until around 6 when a police officer managed to find his way in and asked me to leave. I wasn't happy to leave my work behind but I couldn't see any other choice. At least here I felt it would be safe because I was the only one with a key. Since I wasn't usually expected to be home until way after 10 P.M I decided to go see my mistress for a few hours.
She was happy to see me but things were definitely weird between us; especially after she told me of how she had found someone else. I left that night with a sinking feeling in my gut but managed to fake a smile for my loving wife who had decided to stay up and wait for me. Her newly inspired passion for me must have manifested with that first night of passion because she hadn't stayed up waiting for me in years. There was once a time when we enjoyed long nights together laughing and talking until we exhausted ourselves and then we would sleep for the better part of a day and start it all over again. The times when I asked her to marry me were lighter and more heartfelt then the days that had become our routine over the past few years.
There is little that I can honestly remember since my trip to Iran but the look on my wife's face when she placed that morning's paper down on top of my breakfast that I was promptly eating left scars in my recollection. She looked as pallid as a corpse and as terrified as a sheep caught in the jaws of the hungry wolf. Before my eyes was the cover story that absolutely took my breath away and left a bad taste in my mouth for many weeks after. This morning's cover story was about the grizzly murder of my very own mistress and the time of death was right before I left her house.
IV.
I started living at my office to keep from exposing my wife and kid to the horrors that now haunt my mind while I sleep. Vivid pictures of torture and violence fill my dreams and cause my unrest. I've tried everything I could to escape the torment of sleep and many things have worked for awhile. Speed worked the best but caffeine pills, intense exercise, masturbation, television, and other illegal drugs were used in my effort to hold back the tides of my dreams.
Nothing worked for long though and I was forced back into the turbulent waters of my subconscious. Creatures spoke to me and offered my wildest desires to me on platters of gold and platinum. We would partake in wild orgies where they would put their hands within my flesh while bringing me ecstatic pleasure. It was a demonic paradise fueled by decadent sexual exploration and grandiose parties that never seemed to stop. I know this all sounds unbelievably wonderful; but the twisted images became even more warped and the pleasure turned to immense pain. I struggled for my own freedom each night until the morning came to rescue me.
I was safe outside my nightmare but I was always forced to return. My restless nights started to affect my waking hours as I found myself more and more tired as each day went on. I would find myself waking up in strange places sleepwalking miles from the comforts of my own home. And every morning someone else I knew would be found dead and end up on the front page of my daily paper. I was sure that each day I went on was the day I would meet my incarceration for the murders of my friends. Yet the police have yet to come looking for me, it makes me wonder if I have been protected by some outside force.
It pains me to mention the names of my friends so I have chosen to walk away from it as it hadn't happened. My own denial was beneath me yet I couldn't bring myself to face the horrible truth of my own becoming. I was losing my mind and the only peace I could ever find was when I was holding the idol in my hands, it brought me comfort and allowed me a moment's rest from the stress that now built up relentlessly. The demon that followed me leaving his footsteps in the sand behind me had yet to show me its face at this time but I assure you he was there for every step.
He was whispering in my ear on every murder that took place and as I grew more and more conscious of my actions I began to crave my nightly bloodlust. Feeding a demon that offered me powers beyond my wildest dreams was powerful to me. All he asked was that I be his vessel until he was powerful enough to no longer need mine. He told me his name but it was jumbled and in a language I've never encountered before.
My mind had lost all ability for reason and compassion, and as I murdered the ones I loved around me I lost more and more of my humanity. My body was no longer mine once the sun went down; and all I could do was watch as I committed these heinous murders one by one. Flesh and blood caking my fingers as I'd watch myself eviscerate each one and remove their organs. displaying them around the corpse ritualistically.
My stomach still churns when I think about the heart. I think about the way they felt in my hands and the panic that ensued as my own hand brought it up to my mouth. I still remember how the blood juiced down my chin like I was eating an orange or peach. The horror wasn't in the act itself but in my impotence to stop it.
V.
Last night was the first night I brought the idol into my house and the effects were astonishing. As I brought it onto my property I was suddenly back in my own right mind. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest and my back and I was able to move on my own accord once more. I knew instantly that it had to be in possession because the land my house was built on had been consecrated while it was still a church.
Obviously the evil worked its will through the idol and into me. It used my vanity and perverted lust to capture my mind and hold me hostage in my own body. There were times that I can now remember clearly; times when my body was acting and I could see what it was doing and yet do nothing to stop it. I couldn't even weep for the people I loved as I slaughtered them one by one with blunt and sharp instrument alike He had stolen everything from me and now I am going to steal back what I have given to him. With the demon's power withdrawn I am now free to end this all right now before he can take them from me.
I will not allow this final sacrament to take place, the things I've witnessed and my own upbringing will not allow me to sit idly by while this monster bathes this planet in blood. This is why I have chosen to end my life and is also the reason I am writing this tale down. I want my child who will never know his father to understand why I had to take my own life. I want my wife to forgive me for what I must do because I am doing it for her safety as well.
So many things I wanted to do and say. Yet I was too blinded by my own shortcomings to see the truth of my own will. I have become an aberration that is trapped by his moral shackles just as much as his physical ones. Now I must say my goodbyes to the ones I love as I ready my gun and put down my pen. This is my punishment for the blight I've caused in the eyes of God and I readily accept this punishment with open arms.