by Z. M. Wilmot
The Wolf’s Key
My father had been a professor of history at Tullas University, which was right down the street from where we had lived, for as long as I could remember. I actually lived in that house after I myself graduated from the same university, as my father decided to move out, to a place across town, closer to the its ancient library. My mother had died seven years before that, and now that his only child was self-sufficient, he only had to worry about himself.
Unfortunately, he passed away not five years after my graduation. He left most of his estate to his colleague and greatest friend, Professor Deary, but did leave me with one item. I received said item in the post from Deary himself, the executor of my late father’s will. It came in a large manila envelope. The first thing I saw upon opening it was a sheet of paper, with a note from the still-living professor:
Dear Brockton,
I am sorry to say that your father did not leave this world with much, and he left it with even less to leave to you. He did, however, express a deep desire in his last words to have this key passed on to you after his death. I could not for the life of me determine what the key is supposed to be used for, but it is yours now. My deepest condolences for the passing of your dear father.
Best Wishes,
Jonathan Deary
After reading this, I drew out the second item in the envelope. As had been hinted at in the letter, it was a key. It was six or seven times the size of most keys in this day and age, and looked rather archaic, but other than that it had no features of note. Nonetheless, I inspected it carefully, hoping to glean some information regarding its use.
Five minutes later, I found what I was looking for. I took a magnifying lens from my desk drawer and peered at the bottom left corner of the key’s handle. At that spot, in miniscule writing, was a message in the secret code that my father and I had shared since I was able to read and write, so that we could pass each other messages without my mother knowing what was said. I smiled at the memories of the havoc we had together wreaked upon her as I read the code, written in black ink upon the key’s silver surface.
It was a very simple message. All it said was “Go to the library of your own hometown and open the door on the lowest floor.”
I had the day off, so I decided that I might as well go then. I left the house, locked the door, and walked down to the library. My father had spent a lot of time inside that building when he had been a child; he said it had been one of his favorite places.
I stepped into the lobby and looked around. I had only ventured in here once or twice, not having been particularly fond of books myself, taking after my mother in that regard. Still, it was a pleasant building, and I could see how a man such as my father would have loved it so deeply.
There was a descending staircase on the left side of the room, and I walked towards it and then down. It spiraled downward for longer than I would have expected, and eventually led me to a decently large room. Several rows of long bookshelves greeted my eyes. I advanced down the center row between shelves, trying to be as silent as I could. The atmosphere down there was stifling and ominous; it gave me chills just to be in the room.
The books on the shelves were old, and many looked like they should have been destroyed ages ago. I saw Greek, Latin, and Arabic titles on their spines, but did not pause to peruse them.
I found the door moments later, as the rows of books ended. There were a series of tables set out where the bookshelves ended, all of them placed about twenty feet away from a large silver door. I walked forward and stopped at the edge of the tables. I had no doubt that this was the door that my father had written of. I took the key out of my pocket and glanced at it. It seemed to grow warm in the palm of my hand. My gaze drifted from it back to the door, and I took a step forward. The strange aura of the room intensified as I took that step forward, and I almost immediately stepped back again. I ignored my increasing sense of dread and approached the massive silver door.
The door was exquisitely detailed, covered in all manner of strange symbols and horrific images. With a shock, I realized that the writing on the door was identical to that which my father and I used for our code. I began to tremble as my eyes read fearsome words and dark prophecies, and then moved on to look at the images illustrating these foul divinations. The most striking of these pictures was one of a large wolf-like figure attacking a primitive village. I peered at the clearly carved faces of the people, and drew back in horror when I recognized the image of my father among them, cowering in fear near the back. The wolf-beast appeared to be looking directly at him.
The next shock was even worse, for then I saw the figures on the door begin to move. The human figures began to flee as the wolf leapt forward and attacked, heading directly towards my father, who was running away. A man stepped in front of the monster and waved his hands around, and then I saw the wolf imprisoned in some kind of cube, which sank into the ground.
At that point, I believed that I was hallucinating, and that perhaps I had not had enough water earlier that day. But what came next chilled me even more deeply: I heard a voice speak, whispering in my ear. “The time has come, son of he who is not of his own time. My will must be free; let me loose upon the world. All things must end.”
My hand, the one tightly clutching the key, began to move of its own accord. I paled with terror, and struggled to stop the inexorable movement of my hand towards a keyhole design etched into the pattern of the door. The key slid through the solid silver and into the keyhole. A menacing laugh filled my ears as my hand turned the key.
Both the key and the silver before me vanished. My eyes widened and I screamed as I saw a massive form standing in the darkness of the room beyond, throwing off the shackles that had bound it for many dark aeons. It gave a triumphant howl that mingled with the sound of cackling laughter. It regarded me then with bright yellow eyes. “You shall be witness to what will be done to this world, young son. Watch me, and learn.”
With that, the wolf-beast, just like the one depicted on the silver door, leapt through the wall, coating me with dust and covering me with pebbles and rocks as the wall collapsed behind it. I fell onto my back, knocked over as one of its paws sent me flying into a bookshelf. The last thing I remembered before I lapsed into unconsciousness was the thing’s dark laughter, and its darker promise.
“All things shall end, and this world will not be excepted. Watch me, young son, and learn so that you too can become like me.”
Dark Aeons
In the beginning there was darkness
In the middle there was light
And at the end of endings there was eternal night
In the beginning there was darkness
Of utter midnight black
From nothingness it came
To fill the void of light
It seeped into creation
And tainted life’s faint glow
Reminder of the nothingness
Come forth at start of all
It hid in shadows and the night
Ever lurking, ever there
It watched from seas and caverns deep
Ever watching, ever waiting
It darkened stars’ fiery birth
And led them to oblivion
Where they found creation with open maws
Ever hungry, ever greedy
It told of destruction and ultimate end
But waited silently in space between
Letting the song of stars flow through it
Adding their screams into the light
It flitted between the specks of dust
And fled as dust came together as one
Circling the lights that heralded life
And waiting for a chance to grow
It watched from the heavens as fire reigned beneath
On a thousand worlds, on a thousand moons
And the flames of creation subsided and died
Letting cool water do work for it all
It sat idly as tho
ught and life took their forms
It watched and it twisted the figures it saw
Into the grotesque, foetid and macabre
And the nightmares that haunt both our days and our nights
In the middle there was light
As the spirit of darkness was driven far from our selves
And we lived in bliss under the warm rays of our stars
Reveling in the life and the light we had gained
It watched from dark spaces where we dare not look
In the backs of our minds where insanity lurks
We knew it was there but pushed it out of our heads
For fear that its knowledge would doom us all in the end
We built up our temples to our gods and our thoughts
In hopes that the gifts given us would be great
Seeking ever more from our generous creators
Failing to see the lurking darkness within
We ordered ourselves with logic and light
Forgetting the midnight that filled up our past
Instead seeing only the brilliant light of the stars
The darkness without never crossing our minds
Civilization arose and peace rang out true
Except when the darkness came out into light
And the beings of the light became beasts of the darkness
As the forgotten spawn of midnight came out to play
And light did then win and the darkness was banished
Though it lived on in the minds of the poor and the stricken
And those souls untouched by the light’s glowing warmth
Cursed forever to live with the darkness inherent
As time passed us by and our decadence soared
We forgot then completely of what we were born
And denying the darkness that lives in us all
Gave it the power it needed to rise
And so again it appeared, the primordial darkness
Just as the pendulum swings ‘cross the pit
And the wingless bird plummets down to the ground
So did civilization fall to its knees
And all that there was did succumb to the shadows
In the back of the mind, behind the light of the lamp
In the darkest of cellars and the shadiest trees
And we wept as the stars winked out one by one
Light swallowed by darkness that lurked in it all
That consumed all the light and left none for itself
And so did dark aeons come then to pass
To bring everything that ever was to its end
And at the end of endings there was eternal night.
