"Hmm. Do you remember what time it was when you got up?" Dan puffed several times in succession.
"You know, it's strange that I awoke so early. I don't remember seeing the clock."
"I've been to your study, Caven. Why wouldn't you see that oversized grandfather clock in that little museum of yours?"
"I don't know." I scratched my head. I didn't even remember unlocking the door to my study.
"Try to remember. It's important."
"I couldn't see. Now that you mention it—I awoke to that screaming we heard when you dipped that thing in the coffee. That noise was the reason I went downstairs."
"So, the noise and the smell originated from the same place?" Dan leaned in closer, soaking in every word.
"Yes," I said.
"The Nameless Ones. They must have found a way in." He rubbed his beard thoughtfully.
"Dan, what the hell are you talking about?"
"They don't have a name. They existed before names were first recorded. You’re familiar with Sumerian mythology, correct?"
"You know I am." He waited for me to make the connection. "You're telling me these things predate the Ancient Ones? Now I know you’re pulling my leg. That's a good one. Have a laugh on me."
"I'm serious, Caven. You don't understand what this means. They try every year to break through, but now it looks like one of them has succeeded."
"Well, at least an ear, anyway," I muttered.
"This isn't funny. We have to find out how they broke through and stop it before more of them find a way."
"This one didn't make it through." I pointed to the shriveled piece of flesh on the counter.
"Come on. Use some sense. Either it didn't make it all the way through and its ear is missing, or it made it through before its ear did. We need to go to your house quickly. Yule is almost here."
"What does that mean? What are you saying?"
"I'll explain on the drive there. You said you walked here? Let me get the car warmed up and we can leave." Dan leaped into his office, rummaging for who knew what.
"There’s nothing more ancient than Tiamat."
He poked his head out from behind the door. "Are you so foolish as to believe deities didn't exist before them?"
"There’s no proof of any older mythology."
"Where do you go to find proof of an obliterated society?"
I shrugged, leaving him to collect his things. I could only imagine what he was packing together. I had never seen him so stirred-up before. Within fifteen minutes, he had everything packed into a large duffel bag. He looked like a doctor about to make a house call. We squeezed into his old, red, rusted-out Ford and traveled down the road.
His knuckles were bleach-white as he gripped the steering wheel. Dan was incensed. I felt a bit awkward and thought that talking about something, anything, would ease the tension I felt inside his cab.
"What does it matter if it’s Yule, Christmas, or New Year? Dan, you have to start telling me what’s going on or else I’m not letting you inside the house," I yelled over the angry roar of the engine.
"Do you ever wonder why lights are an important part of the holidays, Caven? Halloween, Christmas, Candlemas, Yule, the Winter Solstice, New Years—they all involve lights."
"They also involve parties, alcohol, and bad decisions." I crossed my arms.
"We're not talking about your social life. We're talking about the darkest part of the year."
"I still don't understand what’s gotten you so frightened. I’ve never seen you like this before, not even when that demon tracked us down that alleyway in New Hampshire. To be honest, you're scaring me."
"You have every right to be. Let me try to explain. It I’s common knowledge Samhain is the time of year when the veil between worlds is at its thinnest. At that time the gate is opened and both sides can intermingle. It’s at that time that darkness slowly seeps into our world. The dead can leave this world, and they can enter. We are cast into the shadow emanating from that gate," Dan explained.
"That's ludicrous. The Earth spins on a tilted axis. It's a change in the seasons, not some plot of the dead."
"Coincidence."
"Coincidence? You sound like a madman."
The truck stopped abruptly in front of my house. The chugging of the engine was the only sound perforating the silence between us. He stared at me with searing-cold conviction. "Are you so arrogant as to think the entire universe favors mankind or life in general? The clues are obvious if you look around, Caver! The chances of survival, in all of creation, are almost zero. Somehow, humanity beat the odds. There’s a lot of resentment over this. Every year, they get their chance to correct all that."
"And that time is at Yule. That seems a bit random," I said, still unconvinced.
"Yule is the darkest day of the year. It’s when the gate is fully opened. Anything can come through, and not just ghosts. Trust me when I say all the fears you have of the undead on All Hallows Eve are but a joke compared to the primordial powers that can come through. I’m talking about the annihilation of all life, everywhere."
"You mean, Tiamat and the Ancient Ones."
"Oh, they would love that, but they’re held back by Marduk and the Elder Gods. No, these Nameless Ones rival even the Ancient Ones in might. Tiamat and the others were born from the Nameless. It was a mistake, I assure you. The Ancient Ones were forced to flee or they would have been consumed by them. After the battle with the Elder Gods, the Ancient Ones more or less decided to abide with the decision of creation. Not so with the Nameless Ones. What we’re dealing with is terrifying beyond all human comprehension."
"How does light play into all of this?"
"Let's give a look inside first. I might be wrong. At least, I hope I am. Yule starts tonight, and the light is leaving us."
"I don't see why they would choose to start with my house," I muttered as we exited the beat-up Ford and walked up the path to my front door.
"It must be something you have in your collection." Dan adjusted his glasses as I fumbled for the keys.
It struck me how cold it was when we entered the house. It certainly was cold outside, near twenty, but inside, the gauge read below zero. I attempted to turn on the heat. The lights were off on the display. I went to listen at one of the vents. No air pushed out from inside them. The house was silent.
"What's wrong? Forget to pay the light bill?" Dan watched me as I danced about, checking each thing.
"No," I whispered. I went to the hallway lamp and pulled the chain. Nothing. No power at all.
"Can't say I'm surprised. Electricity means light. Heat means warmth. Both things the Nameless Ones despise. Got a flashlight?"
"I think there’s one near the fuse box. Let me go get it." I left him for a moment. The fuse box was near the kitchen. Dan left the door open and refused to move from the fading light from outside.
When I came back, Dan busied himself going through the objects in his bag. "Here we go." I presented the flashlight triumphantly. Dan didn't seem as amused as I was at my attempt to bring levity to the situation.
"Before we go in, click it on." Dan folded his arms behind his back in a gesture indicating he expected what would happen, but waited for confirmation.
I clicked the button on the flashlight. Nothing happened. I clicked it again three more times before adjusting the bulb portion of the flashlight. No light. Not even a flicker. I unscrewed the bottom portion to check on the batteries. Both were in there, snug as could be, and up-to-date. "I don't get it. These are relatively new batteries."
"I imagine that, if you were to check them, you would find they’ve been drained of all power," Dan said authoritatively.
I looked outside. My neighbors were a festive bunch and seemed to celebrate every holiday with a ringlet of lights encircling their entire property. No light could be seen. Not even the light normally shining out from within their home in the evenings.
"The whole block must be without power."
"If so, th
en it’s worse than I thought." Dan held out two lanterns, prepped and ready. He lit both, carefully guarding the flame against any errant wind that might snuff it out. "Let's go."
With lanterns in hand, we walked down the hall and around the corner to my private study. We stopped in front of a bookcase at the end of that hall.
"Honestly, Caver, I have never understood why you insist upon a keypad to gain entrance to your study. You've never been broken into, and no one knows you have half the stuff you do in this cozy little town." Dan scoffed at me in irritation. He was impatient to get inside.
"And you can thank that to the keypad. It runs off power from the solar array on my roof." I punched the last number and hit enter. The door opened its seal with a hiss and moved aside so we could continue onward. "My study doubles as a safe-room. Besides, there's whiskey in here worth more than my entire collection."
"Now might be the time to drink it if you were ever planning to." Dan entered the room ahead of me and walked to the fireplace. "Now, where exactly did you find this?" I walked to the fireplace and pointed at the floor preceding it. "It feels warmer here. I don't blame them. They hate everything the hearth stands for."
"What would they have against a fireplace?” I asked.
"No. Not just a fireplace. An altar. Didn't you know that's what they were?"
"No. I sort of just thought it was a place to keep a person warm while they read and sip coffee." I let my indignation form into a spear-point at the end of my sentence.
"You and most of the world, it would seem." Dan prodded the ashes with the poker. "I notice the sulfur smell is gone."
"Does that mean whatever creature left its ear on my floor is gone, too?" I was hoping for a simple solution to this insanity.
I waited patiently as Dan went about his work, and I held the lantern to give him a better view of the tile. I didn't take his silence as reproach. He often became silent when he focused on what he was doing. Every so often, he muttered to himself or cursed as necessary. I grew tired of standing and moved to sit in my favorite leather chair when I noticed something horrible. I ran towards my glass case and opened it.
"My god! Where is it? Someone must have broken in here. See? There was a reason to keep this place under lock and key. I'm calling the police."
"What are you going on about, Caver?" He looked up with annoyance from his stooped position.
"I recently purchased some ancient relics. Well, acquired them for money, but let's not split hairs. They were found during a dig near the city of Ur. It cost me a fortune."
"What were they, exactly?" Dan walked over to me.
"Here, I have pictures from the dig site." I opened the cabinet underneath the pedestal and handed them to him.
He inspected each carefully before handing them back to me. He sighed and adjusted his bifocals once again. "They may have been more costly than you realize. These are the holy vestments of Innana."
"Yes, I know. That was part of the appeal. Once they uncovered more tablets to the story of Gilgamesh, I sent a team of archeologists to uncover more. They found these instead. Each of the ten relics were made of lapis lazuli and, strangely, were completely intact."
"That was what they were after," Dan said. "And now that they have it, there’s no way to stop them. Congratulations, Caver. You and your hobby are responsible for the end of all life."
"Now, wait a minute. I had no idea about any of this."
"You would have if you spent more time studying instead of chasing artifacts and sipping those emasculating coffees."
I closed the case and stood squarely in front of Dan. "There's no way to stop them? I don't understand how a few ancient relics are going to help them destroy creation."
"In order for Inanna to descend into the Underworld, she had to discard one item at each gate. Ten gates in total. Once she received the bread and water of life, she expelled herself upward, taking back each holy relic on the way back. However, this was not enough to satiate her sister's desires. Someone had to take Inanna's place. Someone she cared about. Dumuzid, the Shepherd. This is how they plan to enter our world."
"Well, then, we’re safe. They could never hope to recover the bread and water of life." I sighed with immeasurable relief.
"You fool. Those are the simplest items to acquire! Don't you remember the story of the Last Supper? Yeshua followed the same path of Inanna, descending into Purgatory and bringing back the spirits residing there. He offered wine and bread as his blood and flesh. Wine has always represented life. You must have never sat in at a Communion before. Wine and bread. You can pick it up at any supermarket." He massaged his temples in aggravation.
"So what do we do now? I highly doubt primordial deities are planning on stopping by the local Quik-E-Mart to pick up wine, French bread, and flowers for their date with destiny. What kind of cheese goes with the apocalypse, Dan?" My frustration boiled to the surface. Our usual jovial jabs at each other had become a bit too personal for my liking. His words stung with accusation and anger.
"You stupid son of a bitch. If you had studied for this job instead of using it as a way to payroll your bank account, we wouldn't be in this fucking mess." This was odd. Dan never cursed. It may have been on the edge of his teeth, but he had never used profanity directed at me before. This jarred me out of my anger.
The room was beyond freezing. Our teeth chattered on their own, and we desperately tried to get warm. "It's freezing. We need to leave."
"No, we don't. We need to find a clue. Something we may have missed. We can't let them destroy the world because you’re a gimp."
"We have to get out of here. There’s nothing left we can do here. Somehow, it’s affecting our behavior." I grabbed Dan by his wrist, but he fought me. "Let's go, you old bastard." I might as well put in a few verbal shots while I had an excuse.
"Watch out!" Dan pointed behind me. I had almost backed into it. I stumbled back to Dan's side when I saw what resided in the doorway.
A creature unlike anything I have ever witnessed stood at the entrance to my study. It was tall, malnourished, and lanky. Somehow, it moved despite its atrophied existence. Its skin was black as tar. Segments of it glowed a dark blue near the gray ridges of its skin. Its head, shaped like a crocodile's, was disproportionately larger than its body. Its needle-like teeth were large and pronounced. The lantern light glistened off its wet, metallic incisors.
It would not move closer to us. Its menacing form avoided the light of our lanterns but fully blocked any route of escape. I didn't relish the idea of getting closer to it, either. If this thing didn't want to get near our lanterns, it would really hate a full-blown fire.
"Quick! I’ll hold it back. There are a few logs and twigs next to the blower. Get a fire going. Now, dammit!"
Dan set his lantern down after recovering from his initial shock and quickly went about the task of lighting a fire. The demon stood as a terrifying witness to the last moments of our survival. I stood between it and Dan, unwavering in my resolve. A string quartet of curses flew from Dan's mouth.
"What's wrong?"
"How am I supposed to light this fire? Where are the matches? Oh, forget it." Dan took his lantern and threw it as hard as he could into the fireplace. The casing to the lantern cracked and kerosene rapidly spread across the kindling and logs. A roaring flame soon danced inside like a ballerina. Heat flooded the room.
A shrill blast of noise pierced our eardrums. It was the same noise I had heard earlier in the bookstore when Dan had placed the ear in my coffee. We covered our ears to block out the searing pain from the noise. The creature retreated a short distance into the hallway.
I realized it wasn't screaming in pain. The noise came from the reaction between the cold of its body and the heat from the fire. It had been in the house the entire time. That's why it had been colder inside than out and why the electricity didn't work. It had waited until the sun had set behind the trees before confronting us. It was the source of our anger. It was prodding us, gett
ing into our heads, to divide us.
I noticed that its ear, if that's what it was, was missing a section the same size as the flesh I had shown Dan earlier. I slammed the thing with the door. It pushed the beast into the hallway. I set the seals and locked it out with the key pad on my side. "I would recite an invocation, but I don't think any would apply here."
"There's no higher power to appeal to. No saving grace against these things. Only human ingenuity and the will to live." Dan heaved with heavy breaths. Soon, my breath left me as well.
"There's no ventilation in here." I coughed virulently. "Quick. Open a window."
Dan did not hesitate to grab the poker and bash out one of my stained-glass windows. The wind rushed in and we could breathe once more. We looked at each other for several moments before speaking.
"We have to make it to town." Dan headed for the broken window.
"What good is that going to do?"
"With any luck, save this town and maybe the world. You coming?"
"Yes, let me just get the whiskey." I grabbed the large ornate bottle from its case.
We walked quickly into town. I took the remaining lantern with me and carried it on a wooden pole I’d found down the road from my house. "No lights anywhere. No movement, either. Where is everyone?"
"Most likely they’ve been transposed with those nameless things. Each of these houses has a demon who exchanged a human for its place in hell. We were next. I'm proud of you. You must have put everything together yourself. You took care of that demon rather well."
"Thank you, but not actually. I understand nothing other than whatever they, are they do not like light or heat. I don't understand anything, really." I scratched my head in confusion.
"They also don't like cheerfulness and compassion, either. You picked up on that before I did. They are creatures of division. They exist in a hollow outside of creation. They serve neither light nor dark, and nor do they hold sway over them. However, even they must yield before certain elements in nature. Light being one of those things.
"When I said the fireplace is an altar, I wasn’t lying. It’s an altar through which, if it remains unoccupied on the days that the gate is at its widest, they will enter. That’s the reason for keeping the lights from Halloween well into the New Year. It’s to keep them at bay.
Festive Frights Page 18
