The sky was cloudy. I turned around in shock, and amidst the dead I saw strange vapors rise, like smoke from the end of a cigarette. Only this smoke, or vapor, or whatever it was, changed color in the air before my very eyes. From blue gray, it metamorphosed into a light crimson, and began to float towards me. It circled my body, almost as if to get my attention. Soon, other vapors glided towards me, seeping out of the dead flesh around me. These were similar to the first, which had circled me, only these varied in size and color. Green, purple, yellow, brown, blue; all manner of shades drifted from the pulp on the ground. Some were vaguely human in form, and with others it was hard to distinguish one definitive shape at all. Some were wider than a bus, some thinner than a pencil.
A strong breeze with the reek of rotting flesh blew the strange hazes away. They sailed off through the sky, and when they made it to the large pine and maple trees that stood stoically about a mile or so to the left of the large field I stood in, they traveled through them and disappeared from sight.
I turned back to face the miles of butchered men, women, and children, only to find a silhouette on the horizon, roughly half a mile off. It took a few seconds for my eyes to get the person properly into focus. Gradually, the blurriness subsided, and I saw what appeared to be a man with short, gray hair, wearing green and red flannel pajama pants and a white wife-beater.
I yelled towards him, but as I did, I heard him begin to scream. It was the most blood-chilling scream I’ve ever heard, and I hope to Hell I never have to hear one like it again. It conjured up thoughts of men gut shot, dying in utter agony on the battlefield. Thoughts of amputations, and castrations before the days of antibiotics, or anesthetics floated into my psyche. Thoughts of prison rape, torture, and genocide, were all brought to mind with that horrible noise.
It was hard to see clearly, but it looked as if an ink black fog was sizzling out from beneath the man’s clothes. I ran as fast as I could through the gore-soaked ground, but slipped on the blood-slicked grass, and landed hard on my side.
Amid sanity-shattering wails, I saw the man tear his shirt and pants off, in what I assume was a desperate attempt to stop the amorphous black wisps from painfully percolating out of his pores. It was all to no avail, however, as more and more of the smoke escaped his body with each second.
I scrambled, tried to get up to somehow help the poor wretch, though admittedly I was unsure if it was possible. I made it to my feet, and ran to where he lay on the ground. Yet, by the time I reached the stranger he was silent. Wrapped in that silence which we will all know one day; the quiet only death can bring.
I looked a few feet above the man’s corpse, and saw the black fog of his essence. Suddenly, the black, smoky form that had come out of the man’s skin shot straight up into the air. It ascended to greater and greater heights, until it was hard to see. With breakneck speed, it then flew through the air. Behind me, over my shoulder and out of my sight line, in that foreboding, dark sky, the black vapor flew.
An eardrum-piercing howl tore through the air, and in that moment everything inside me tightened up, and went cold.
I began to tremble uncontrollably. Despite my terror, I had an urge to see the thing. I somehow felt it behind me, before I even laid eyes upon it. I shouldn’t have turned to look, but I needed to see. A frantic desire to know what was capable of killing so many filled me, and my wonder momentarily overcame my fear. By the grace of God, I wish I had never been so foolhardy, to let my curiosity damn me so.
I would give anything to forget what I saw in the sky of that nightmare realm. I can barely come to an estimate as to what size the thing was, but it was wide enough that I had to turn my head to see all of its obsidian mass, while I was staring straight at it.
Black clouds, terrible and large, obscured it. Its massive wings were bat like, the only part of the beast that could be seen clearly, outside of the blackness. Each leathery wing had what looked like some kind of dark purple and olive colored gills, attached to where the arm bone would be in a regular bat. Hidden from view by the giant coal black smog, which whipped furiously around it, I could see that the terrible black clouds, which floated around its hulking mass, were being pumped out from the gill-like organs atop the wings.
A fearsome wind blew, and the black clouds parted to allow me a glimpse of the rest of its body. It was easily a hundred feet tall, though its size was hard to pinpoint, as it was in the sky. How to describe that foul leviathan is difficult. Like a giant eel, only it appeared to have thorn like protrusions all along its skin. Its hindquarters consisted of thousands of curly tendrils, which moved in a way I cannot possibly begin to describe. These thin, perhaps fifteen-foot tails, if they could be labeled as such, seemed to move and stay still all at the same moment. Staring at them made an excruciating burning sensation begin in my head, and made my eyes ache.
The creature twisted, and more of the corporeal part of the thing could be seen, through the dark clouds. What looked like more gills, similar to the ones above the wings, ran down the side of its body.
As I got a better look at these organs on the side of this demon, this hellish storm cloud with wings, I saw that they were sucking the black smog from the air back into its hulking mass.
Rain began to hammer down from the black clouds surrounding the thing; clouds, which had grown in mere minutes to be so colossal, I could no longer see the rest of the sky. It was so large that it must have had its own atmosphere, which is the only explanation I have as to why a torrential downpour fell from the slate murkiness. This nightmare shadowed the land, and everything grew dark.
Another howl vibrated through the air, louder than the first. I went deaf, a loud buzz ringing in my ears, as I stared on in horror at the apocalypse made manifest. My bladder released its contents, and I was so frightened, I barely noticed the warmth, as it trickled down my leg.
Tears streamed down my face, as the thing floated closer. My rain soaked body shivered, as two eyes the brilliant white of lightning, flashed at the end of two impossibly long, gigantic, corresponding onyx antenna-like appendages. They poked out of the clouds; they repulsed me utterly.
I screamed, but could not hear my own shrieks. And then a voice spoke in my head.
At first it was only noises in my head, which I gradually discerned to be some kind of almost unrecognizable language. I can hardly attempt to repeat it, even phonetically. Some of the sounds that echoed through my head, I was confident were never meant for human lips to speak. The tone switched from high pitched, fast screams, to slow, deep rumbling groans. Finally, I heard the voice speak in English.
“Lalpatzik willll trap your spirit for eternity. Join Lalpatziiiiiik, or have your soul and Flesh ripped away. Lalpatzik, spawn of Yog-Sothoth, friend to Shub-Niggurath and the night gaunts, and mi-go’s which fly, the ghhooouuullls which feast on the deaaad in the graveyarddsss. Eitthhher you are agaiiiiinst us, or with us. Remember this, you are one of the choooseeennnnnn, and will be summoned when the greeaaattt exterrrminattioooon begins. Lalpatzik is the spaaaaaaaaark, to light the way for the reeeeeeeeeeest.”
Yet, the thing that sent me here, where I currently reside, in Sunny Hills Asylum, in Grafton Massachusetts, was not the horrible thing, known as Lalpatzik, or its words.
No, the vision that sent me down the hall from the bright room known as sanity, into the darkness of this closet known as madness, was far, far worse. For in the nightmare, after Lalpatzik’s voice screeched and boomed in my mind, some of its black vaporous form snaked downward from the miles above, down my throat. It rushed in before I knew what was happening, and even if I had I doubt I could have stopped it.
As I inhaled the blackness, I saw the future of the world. Saw that Lalpatzik is one of hundreds of other gods, and creatures, that will inhabit the Earth. In the vision the land was dark, possibly shadowed by Lalpatzik, or by one of the other dark gods whose names are hidden throughout the dusty centuries.
Strange plants and creatures filled the land. Only one importa
nt thing was missing from this nightmare within a nightmare. One aspect, that left me shivering with tears streaming down my face when I awoke.
For you see, in the glimpse that Lalpatzik allowed me, I saw many new beings upon the Earth. Animals with colors and limbs unimaginable to those with sanity intact. Dark gods in the seas, and in the sky. Beings hundreds of feet below the ground swimming in lakes of liquid fire. Crustacean looking winged creatures, and humanoid, bat like creatures with no face. Even bipedal creatures about the size of a human, but with a lower torso like a huge snake, with odd lightning colored eyes at the end of leathery, black antenna like appendages.
Yet on all the miles upon miles my spirit floated in the vision, there was one sight I was not afforded. One comfort, which I was not allowed to embrace. One hope that was dashed with the dying of the light.
Mankind was nowhere to be found.
X
Seth O’Malley awoke in Sunny Hills Mental Hospital, and knew what he had to do.
He pretended to be sluggish, when the orderly, named Henry, opened the door to give him his afternoon medication. Henry was very tall, and his pale face was stern, below his smoothly shaved head.
As soon as Henry was in the room, Seth sprang into action. He grabbed onto Henry, a man twice his size and strength, by the back of the head. What is muscle strength compared to the powerful bursts of adrenaline found in that of the paranoid schizophrenic?
With all his might, Seth smashed the large man’s head into the metal edge of the bed, a bed Seth was very well acquainted with. There was a small amount of padding, placed over the corner of the bed, but it did next to nothing to cushion the blows. He felt the man’s nose crunch, as he raised and lowered Henry’s face onto the sharp metal. When he finally dropped the man to the floor, Henry’s face was nothing more than a bloody, red, pulp.
Seth ran, ran because he knew his true purpose now. Seth was no psychopath; it was the rest of the world that was insane! They had no idea of the vast vistas of time and space that existed beyond the stars! What did they know of ghasts, of the ivory bridges of Teloe, above the golden rivers? What did they know of Cytharion, with its beautiful blossoms? What did they know of any of the dreamlands? What did they know of Kadath?
He made it to the front exit before anyone noticed him. A black man named Jeff, the security guard at the front desk, saw him, and in an instant was up from his plastic chair. Jeff went to his belt, to grab his taser, but Seth knocked the weapon out of his hand first. In a frenzy, Seth grabbed the taser off the ground, and pushed the trigger on the little machine. He pumped electricity into the security guard’s stomach, for a good twenty seconds. The man dropped to the floor, and convulsed.
Seth heard the alarm begin to ring through the cloudy afternoon, as he made his way through the parking lot. He saw some orderlies run outside after him, but he had purpose in his strides.
He was one of the chosen of Lalpatzik. They were nothing, but lowly humans, with no idea of the power within him.
X
Patrick Ganford ran ahead of the other two orderlies on duty that day in Sunny Hills. Patrick ran every day, and he had been the fastest sprinter on his high school track team. Running was just something that the skinny man of thirty, with his freckles and light red hair, was good at.
Dressed in dark blue jeans, with his Sunny Hills staff uniform green polo shirt above it, Patrick ran out of the parking lot, in pursuit of Seth O’Malley, one of the schizophrenic patients from the second floor of the hospital. They called it a hospital, but that was a misnomer; no one was ever really healed in Sunny Hills.
He watched as Seth made his way down the street that led away from Sunny Hills. He increased his clip to try to catch up with Seth, who was still in his white hospital issued pajama bottoms, and white T-shirt. Patrick marveled at how fast Seth was running. While Patrick was used to maintaining his speed, Seth had had no exercise for months, but didn’t seem to falter one bit.
Seth suddenly darted from the road, towards the tree line, along the left side of the empty street. It was a Sunday, so even fewer drivers were about than usual, which was probably a good thing. Patrick would receive all sorts of hell, if a car hit a patient during his shift. He was supposed to be in charge as head orderly. Patrick ignored the stitch that formed in his side, and followed Seth into the trees.
The running got harder once he left the asphalt. Patrick had to navigate branches, and roots along the ground, not to mention rocks. Yet, Seth seemed to have no problem navigating the forest. In fact, if Patrick hadn’t known any better, he could have sworn that this patient had run this exact route before, such was the confidence, and speed, with which Seth traveled through the woods.
A branch hit Patrick in the side, and slowed him down a bit but he continued to run as if his job depended on it, which it very well might. Seth increased the distance between them, ever confident with the terrain. Patrick almost fell when his left foot hit an exposed root that led from a large oak tree.
The trees were thinning out now, and Patrick could see a large field in front of him. Seth ran towards the field, screaming some kind of gibberish Patrick couldn’t make out. Was that even a language that Seth was shouting towards the sky? If so, it wasn’t any language Patrick had ever heard.
The sky grew dark, the closer that Patrick got to the center of the field. He kept his sight on Seth, who, without warning, dropped to his knees mid-field, and began to scream in English.
“Lalpatzik, ruler of the path through dimensions, spawn of Yog-Sothoth! You are the spark, to light the way for the rest! I am your servant eternally! I chose to serve you, during the great extermination! Let me know of the wonders, which you have seen, and the dreamlands, which you come from! Let me meet the other gods that rule the vast darkness of space, beyond the stars!”
“What the fuck are you talking about Seth?” Patrick said, grasping Seth by the shoulders. “We need to get you back to the hospital! You really hurt Henry, and he’ll probably be in a coma or something from that little stunt you pulled! Not to mention what you did to Jeff! Do you hear me?”
Patrick turned Seth’s face to look into his own then let out a shocked gasp. Seth’s eyes looked like they were filled with electric current. They were the blinding, brilliant white light of lightning. The man no longer had any pupils, or corneas. Both of his eyes were simply filled with that electric, white light.
It grew pitch black, and Patrick saw Seth turn his face once again to the sky. Patrick looked up, and saw something that made him release his bowels into his jeans. He dropped to the ground, and began to shake uncontrollably. He screamed, and blood burst from his mouth, a fountain of blood, which soaked the grass, and covered his jeans. Patrick saw a red vapor rise out of his skin which burned terribly as it made its way out of his body.
In seconds, Patrick’s eyes burst in their sockets, as the electric current sizzled through him.
The last thing he heard, before his eardrums exploded, was an inhuman wail from above. Then, his soul traveled up into the elder god.
X
Greg and Tim, two other orderlies at Sunny Hills, finally reached the field about forty seconds later. What they saw that afternoon turned their hair white, and in an ironic twist of fate, changed them from orderlies of Sunny Hills to patients.
Seth O’Malley was floating upwards, towards a gigantic black cloud in the sky. Seth’s whole body appeared to be surging with electric current. His hospital issue pants, and white cotton T-shirt singed away, and left Seth naked, as he sizzled in the sky.
But somehow, the man’s flesh wasn’t burning. Perhaps, the craziest part of all, Greg and Tim heard Seth laughing maniacally as he rose. Then they heard something huge inside of the black cloud. It was a sound that shook the field underneath their feet. And it was in a rhythm that was unmistakable.
It sounded like thunder, laughing.
X
On Sunday night, May 20, 2011, Seth O’Malley assaulted one of the orderlies, Henry, and beat him
into a coma. Patient then grabbed the taser from Jeff, the security guard at the front desk, and incapacitated him.
O’Malley then escaped the hospital grounds. He ran into the woods, just off of hospital property, on the Grafton town line, which borders the town of Dunwich.
The patient killed the head orderly, Patrick Ganford, and attempts to apprehend the patient by two other orderlies, Greg Umbridge and Tim Founman, failed. These two men are now in a profound state of catatonia. Neither has spoken since the incident occurred. Sunny Hills has made sure each man will receive a full recovery, free of charge. We take care of our own here.
A manhunt is currently underway for O’Malley. Patient is twenty-eight year old, five foot four inches tall Caucasian male, with light brown hair cut short, and grey eyes
If you have any information about the whereabouts of Mr. O’Malley, please contact the Grafton police at 978-555-9110.
A reward of $15,000 is available to anyone who can alert the police to Mr. O’Malley’s whereabouts. Take no chances approaching the patient: he has extremely aggressive tendencies, and is a paranoid schizophrenic.
Thank you all for your cooperation, in this time of tragedy here at Sunny Hills.
Sincerely,
Dr. Gerald Thomas
Head Psychiatrist and Director of Sunny Hills
When he had finished typing up the email, Dr. Thomas sent it to the rest of the staff at Sunny Hills. Once that was done, he printed out ten copies of it. He grabbed his black pea coat from the hook on the coat rack, which sat beside his office door. Then, he grabbed his cane, which rested underneath the coat rack, leaning against the wall. It was a stick of solid mahogany; his father had willed it to him, after his passing the previous year.
He walked down the hall, and passed the room in which Tim Founman had stayed since the incident with Seth O’Malley. Dr. Thomas looked into the room, through the glass, that had crisscrossing metal bars inside it. Tim was sitting up in bed, staring straight ahead of him. The doctor waved to the man, and though the man was facing him, not so much as a flicker of recognition passed across his face. Founman was still in a deep catatonic state.
New Tales of the Old Ones Page 21
