Horror In The Clouds

by Scott Shoyer

“Maybe he’s just over-protective,” Karen suggested. “He is, after all, paid to protect this town.”

  “True,” Damien said, “but there was something about him that was ‘off.’”

  “If you lived in a town of around two-hundred-and-fifty people,” Karen said, “I bet you’d be off too.”

  “You’re both ‘off,’” Brandon said as he yawned. “Can we just get to bed?”

  “That is a fantastic idea,” Karen said as she kissed Brandon goodnight. “We have about another two-hour drive tomorrow before we reach the Grand Canyon.”

  Damien switched off the light next to the bed and settled in. He felt the soft pillow underneath his head and knew he’d be asleep in no time. As he slowly drifted off, his mind wandered back to that moment on the mountain road. He tried to recall every detail. The way the clouds had looked, the odd distance he’d felt between his mind and body.

  The thing he’d seen in the clouds.

  Damien had no doubts that what he’d seen in the clouds was real.

  As Damien tried to focus on even the most minute details, waves of hopelessness washed over him, as though he was buried up to his neck in the sand at the beach during high tide.

  So what if there had been a creature up in those clouds? Damien thought. What am I going to do? Fight it? Damien thought about how powerful such a creature must be—how powerful and alien to this world. If such a creature existed, there wouldn’t be a goddamn thing I could do about it anyway.

  Damien slowly drifted to sleep thinking about the clouds and what might be living within them. He had been more certain than ever that there had indeed been a creature living in the sky, but a voice in the back of his head as he fell into slumber had urged him to leave it alone.

  Nothing good will come of this discovery, the voice echoed in his head. Nothing but madness and death.

  14

  In the comfort of the hotel room in the center of the town of Derleth, he dreamt of an ancient alien world unlike anything he could imagine even in his darkest nightmares. His thoughts felt as though they came from a source beyond his own mind—a spectral wellspring that had remained hidden and secretive. He felt the thick, dank air against his flesh, its foetid odor invading his nostrils. He looked around the alien world and tried to find something that was recognizable—something to anchor him to the reality he knew and understood.

  What he had found was only foreign and alien. The world was alive with sinister shadows and forms that jumped, slithered, and scurried away from his gaze. The elements themselves took on a life of their own. The air was pregnant with intention and wasn't just present, but it felt like it purposefully surrounded him, as though investigating him. The oceans were full of a viscous, noisome fluid that he didn’t believe was water. Waves of that mysterious liquid violently crashed on the black sands of the shore and the rocks as if demanding he acknowledge its existence.

  But it was the sky itself that put the most amount of dread and anxiety in him. Thick, threatening clouds moved across the dawn as if they were patrolling their territory and just waiting for something to invade their space. Each eldritch cloud had its own distinct shape and color. Bluish-green clouds drifted past cadaver-gray clouds, each of which had a particular pattern.

  The elements appeared to be at war with each other and with the world itself, each one not willing to give an inch to the others. In the far distance he saw what looked like a huge volcano. Lava shot from the large crater at the top of the mountain. As he went to blink and turn away, he froze in place. From the corner of his eye he could have sworn the mountainous volcano had moved, but he knew it wasn’t a trick of the eye or some illusion.

  The volcano had moved.

  It moved slowly but steadily to some destination, its intentions unknown.

  He returned his gaze to the fog and clouds in the skies. Their violent movements felt as though they had been guided by something intelligent—by some kind of consciousness.

  The solid earth undulated in a tantric, rhythmic dance, and would’ve been a beautiful, mesmerizing sight if not for the tenebrous horrors that kept erupting out of the ground and attacking the inhabitants of the land.

  All these visions kept him at the edge of madness. He was helpless in his own dream and could do nothing but look on at the sights before him.

  But was it a dream, he wondered? Were the visions, perhaps, of a fevered mind that was projecting such thoughts into his head?

  He wasn’t sick, though. This much he knew. There was no fever in his mind that could be cured with a pill or a damp cloth. Someone—something—had taken his mind and brought him to this place. For what, he did not know.

  As he turned and looked at the horrors around him, he felt his skin react to the air that surrounded him, circulating and penetrating every pore. It wasn’t just curious about his presence-it wanted to know everything about him. His skin was set afire as the air assaulted him. His ears buzzed and began to hurt from the screams of both predators and prey. His eyes were assaulted by the nightmarish visions of the world’s inhabitants being torn apart, and from the visions in the skies and clouds. He tasted the foetid essence of this alien world and didn’t think he would ever forget it.

  All of his senses were on fire due to overstimulation. His brain clamored to make sense of this world—to impose some kind of meaning upon it. Why would such a world exist? What would create such a world?

  But hope and meaning was as absent from this world as logic and reason. Hopelessness was this world’s religion. Meaninglessness was its faith.

  He was at the edge of madness and felt himself creeping closer to the edge.

  Then he saw something that he knew didn’t belong in this accursed world. Something even more alien than the daemonic elements at war with each other.

  An iridescent hole opened in the sky above him. It started as a small pinhole and grew in circumference until it was large enough for a two-story house to fit through. He looked on in awe at the first thing in this world that casted any kind of effulgence. He felt the smile creep across his face as he kept his eye on the hole in the sky.

  But no sooner had thoughts of hope and escape entered his mind did a new horror too. A new kind of blasphemy, even for this world, emerged from the clouds and reached for the iridescent hole, torn in the sky.

  An indescribable, amorphous mass of squirming tentacles of various lengths and sizes emerged from one of the greenish-blue-gray clouds. It moved with precision and determination. It wasn’t being drawn to the hole in the sky like a metal object to a magnet. It was moving toward the strange hole with determination—with intention.

  The unmentionable thing reached the edge of the hole and the beautiful colors that had once emanated its depths turned black. It was as if the colors themselves had died and decomposed within seconds of the hideous thing’s presence.

  Silently, the abomination penetrated the hole. The colors that had remained at the edge of the hole had disappeared, and the hole now joined the other hideous objects of this world. The creature’s tentacle snaked into the hole. He watched as the thing behaved as though it were stuck and couldn’t move into the hole any further.

  Something was blocking the unnatural beast from completely entering the hole. He covered his ears as the beast’s scream tore through the sky. The other stygian clouds—perhaps they too hid their own creatures—kept clear of this swarthy monster. Even he knew that the thing’s cries weren’t from pain, but frustration.

  A new bolt of fear ripped through him and he looked all around himself in a panic. He knew he should run and hide from the thing in the clouds, but in a world where absolutely everything could kill you, where could one find safety?

  He was paralyzed as he felt the Unnamable thing in the clouds look at him. Though it had no eyes, face, or even a discernible head, he knew it was focused on his presence. With half of its amorphous body in the hole and the other half in this ancient, horrible world, the thing from the clouds shot one of its serpentine tentacles towa
rd him. The speed at which the thing moved left him no other choice but to look on in horror. Before the fleshy appendage reached him, he turned to run. He barely took two steps before he heard six words penetrate his head.

  It is you. You have come.

  He jumped out of bed just as the tentacle penetrated his chest. He rubbed his chest after his eyes shot open and still gasped for breath. An overwhelming feeling of hopelessness grabbed ahold of him before he realized he had been dreaming—dreaming the worst nightmare he ever had.

  As he caught his breath and laid back down, he realized that the stench of that alien world was still in his nostrils, and that his skin still stung from the caustic air.

  Before he had a chance to further question what had just happened, he felt a new sleep creep through his mind. Before he could doze off, he looked over at the other bed in the hotel room and saw his mother and father fast asleep.

  As his head sank into the pillow, Brandon was swept away in the waves of a new sleep.

  A more peaceful sleep void of smells and sounds.

  A sleep void of madness.

  15

  The High One hadn’t slept much over the last few weeks. His skinny frame made him look frail, but he was a strong and resilient man. In his early fifties, Howard Montaigne looked like he was in his late thirties. Time had been kind to him, but over the last several weeks he’d felt as though time had finally caught up. His knees ached, his back was sore, and he even found a few grey hairs hiding within his dark brown head of hair.

  Howard Montaigne sensed a change in the air and felt the restlessness of the Ancient One in the clouds. Something had been happening in the town of Derleth, and whatever it had been was about to get worse before the Ancient One was finished.

  This worried the High One, and the others in The Order of N’Xabez knew he was concerned. All the members of the Order were blood descendants of the founding fathers of Derleth. Now they were being slaughtered one by one, and these weren’t homicides that Sheriff Landry needed to investigate. Everyone in the Order knew what was happening, and they all knew there was nothing that they could do about it.

  But why, the High One thought, is the Ancient One killing those in the Order? For hundreds of years the blood descendants had done everything the Ancient One had decreed. But over the last few weeks, something had changed, and now the High One had been banished from the Ancient One’s mind.

  The High One looked down at his hands and saw that his cigarette had burned down to the filter. His yellowish index and middle fingers felt the heat. He realized he had only taken one drag from the cigarette and reached for his pack as he snuffed out the butt between his fingers. As he lit the new cigarette, he jumped from the banging at his door.

  “Howard!” a voice shouted from the other side of the front door. “Howard! Open the goddamn door! It’s time we talked about what the hell is going on here!”

  Howard, the High One, relaxed as he recognized Sheriff Landry’s voice. He walked quickly to the front door and let Landry in.

  “Are you okay?” Landry asked Howard when he saw the condition of the house.

  “Yeah,” Howard said. “It has been a rough few weeks.”

  “Few weeks?” Landry repeated in shock. “This weird shit has been going on for a few weeks? I only thought it was a few days.”

  “The Ancient One has been restless for almost a month,” Howard explained. “I thought the ceremony the other night would satiate It.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Sheriff Landry asked. “Why is the Ancient One killing off the bloodlines?”

  “I don’t know,” Howard said as he looked to the ground. “It is restless, yet seems to have some sort of plan it is fulfilling.” Howard took a long drag from his cigarette and let the ash fall to the floor. “Whatever It is doing, It is not sharing any visions with me.”

  The two men walked to the kitchen. “Can I get you a beer, Sheriff?” Howard asked.

  “This isn’t a goddamn social call, Howard,” Landry said in a raised voice. “Besides, it’s not even ten A.M.” He watched Howard pour himself a shot of whisky and gulp it down in one swallow. “We need to know what the hell is going on. At this rate, the founding bloodlines will be wiped out within days.”

  “I was expecting you to visit sooner in light of recent events,” Howard said as he sat at the kitchen table, which was littered with overflowing ashtrays, drained beer bottles, and discarded takeout containers. It was obvious that Howard hadn’t been out of his home for quite a while.

  “I’d have been here sooner,” Landry explained, “but a family drove into town late last night and I wanted to meet them.”

  Howard’s hand stopped as he raised it to take another drag from the cigarette. “What?” Howard asked as he looked Landry in the eyes. “There’s a new family in town?”

  “Yeah,” Landry explained. “They’re on their way to the Grand Canyon. They had originally planned to stay at the Hualapai Lodge over in Peach Springs. They didn’t realize they shut down during the off-season.”

  Howard stood and walked around the kitchen.

  “Howard?” Sheriff Landry said. “Howard, are you all right?”

  “So this family just rolls into town last night,” Howard said, more to himself than to Landry. “Which means they’ve been on the road for at least one or two days, which means they’ve had this trip planned for at least a month.”

  “What the hell are you babbling about?” Landry asked. “What does this family have to do with what is going on around here?”

  Ignoring Landry, Howard continued.

  “So if that family has known for a month that they were coming here, then the Ancient One would’ve known as well,” Howard said. He then stopped and looked straight at Landry. “It is that family. That family has caused this turmoil.”

  “Howard, I think you need to calm down,” Landry said.

  “Damnit, Sheriff!” Howard shouted. “You need to listen to me! All the odd shit that is happening in this town and the sudden change in the Ancient One is caused by the arrival of this new family.” Howard walked to where the sheriff stood and placed both hands on his shoulders. “The Ancient One follows Its own rules, Landry. Your bloodline may not be one of the original founders, but the Landrys have been in Derleth long enough for you to know that something isn’t right here.

  “There is something going on up in those clouds,” Howard continued, “and for some reason It has cut me, The High One, out of the loop. I can no longer tap into Its mind. It wants something, and It will apparently do anything to accomplish Its goal.”

  “But what does It want?” Landry asked.

  “I don’t know, Kane, but I’m betting dollars to donuts that that new family in town has a large role in whatever It is planning.”

  Howard looked into Sheriff Landry’s eyes.

  “Okay, Howard,” Landry finally said. “I’ll go back to the station and run a full background check on the new family. Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah,” Howard said. “I think we need to gather up the bloodlines and have a ceremony tonight. The Ancient One is planning something big and doesn’t seem to need the founding bloodlines to accomplish Its goals. Maybe we can get lucky and tap into the Ancient One tonight and figure out what It wants and if we can help It.”

  “What if The Ancient One doesn’t want our help or if no one in the town can help It?” Sheriff Landry asked.

  Howard stared into Landry’s eyes and crooked his head as he raised his eyebrows-as if to say, you know exactly what will happen.

  A shiver ran up and down Landry’s spine. “I’ll let you know as soon as the background check is done,” Landry said as he walked to the front door.

  “Please hurry,” Howard said. “There’s no telling how much time any of us have left.”

  *****

  Sheriff Landry had known Howard all his life and never knew the man to be afraid of the unknown. Howard was, after all, the High One and had a unique relationship w
ith the Ancient One that was determined by blood hundreds of years ago. The High One doesn’t scare easily, but what Landry saw when he looked into the man’s eyes was nothing but pure fear.

  16

  The Squires slept in until eleven in the morning. None of them realized just how tired they were from the long drive.

  Damien was the first one to wake up. He laid in bed not wanting to wake the others, and thought back to what he’d seen—or thought he’d seen—on the mountain pass road on the way to Derleth. The experience was fresh in his mind, but he couldn’t seem to focus enough to conjure the image of what he’d seen in his head. He remembered that the clouds had looked alive and that something menacing had been lurking just behind them, but he couldn’t remember the image of exactly what it was that he had seen in the clouds.

  Kate shifted her position and started to wake up. Whatever was on that mountain road and in those clouds was now gone—at least from Damien’s mind.

  Soon after Kate began to wake, Damien heard Brandon tossing around in his bed.

  “Morning everyone,” Damien said. “We all slept in a lot longer than I wanted us to.”

  “We’re on vacation, hon,” Kate said. “Besides-we needed the rest. Yesterday was a long day.”

  “How’d you sleep over there, Brandon?” Damien called to his son. “I thought I heard you tossing and turning a lot last night.”

  “I think I had a nightmare,” Brandon responded, “but I can’t remember anything about it.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you two,” Damien said, “but I’m starving. Let’s get down to the diner, grab some breakfast, and then decide on the rest of the day.”

  “This is such an old, charming town,” Kate said as she stood and stretched. “I wouldn’t mind spending the day here sightseeing and looking around. This town is older than Arizona itself and probably has a lot of historical sights.”

  “I’m game for that,” Brandon said.

  Damien was just about to agree with his wife and son when what felt like a cold pocket of air passed right through him. He shivered and immediately looked around, expecting to see some spectral presence in the room.