Aldedaros Page 2
and chilling with the cold breeze of dawn, but safe, certain that this was just a nightmare. Or the demonic creatures in the reflection of my glass were real, their macabre dance in a rhythm following an unhearable tune as complex and hypnotizing as horrifying.
He told me that I knew of the existence of the Aldedaros, but I had forgotten. That he could give me the numb senses. I felt my bones jitter, my throat drowning an acute chuckle. I remember my parents telling me that when I was a child, they would take me to the temple every year. Something inside me had to be controlled. Something powerful and unknown. I wanted to know, but I was afraid. I remember looking at him, his dark eyes. “There is much to be seen, if you truly wishes to”, he whispered. The light did not reflect on his face. He had no shadow. I agreed.
He took me in the direction of the alley, but the corridor seemed to stretch. No matter how long we walked, the way still seemed distant, each moment darker. The sounds of the lively conversation of the bar becoming far away until they disappeared, being replaced by a grave and monotonous sound of alternating tones. He took me to the center, where the light seemed to converge and suddenly came to a halt. His voice sounded low and barely understandable. “The price of truth is the understanding.” I gathered my courage to reply “Of what?”, my voice came out thin and metallic, already shaking in anticipation. He raised his head, his inexpressive face starting to wither and swell in a measurable movement. The bulbous appendage that was once his face started to rupture and his body moved in a weird way. Something moved inside of him in a grotesque way, tearing flesh and meat that fell to the ground in strips. The aberration inside him rose, stretching its abnormally long arms to its full extent. It towered over me, it's nine feet of dark unshaped matter. Finally he spoke again “Of knowing that all you see is a lie and your life ends now”.
I felt my heart was slow, beating once every three seconds. All light vanished in hiss body. All heat was absorbed. I could barely breathe. The “thing” moved in my direction. I could not scream. Its claw pierced the top of my head, the ethereal fingertips going through my brain. I screamed with no sound and my blood froze in terror. I felt cold and pain. Not the pain that our brain create in response to wounds, no matter how deep or horrid, not this kind of pain. It was a pain inflicted by evil itself. It was the inexistence of death consuming my soul. It was the end. My eyes closed in agony and everything went black.
When I opened them again, I was inside my car and it was still night. I looked at the rearview mirror and my eyes were black and my veins swollen. I felt the sweat running down my neck. The shadows around me seemed to move and I had to get out of the car and into the light of a street lamp to avoid fainting. When I grabbed the light post, I felt the tears streaking through my face. The shadows, they approached, circling the weak globe of light that I held onto. I ran for as long as my lungs could hold.
They were there. Among the people, the tall amorphous shadow creatures like my savior, walking and watching, their bodies pulsating and shifting, curious, as they wandered amongst people unaware of their presence. Sometimes, the creatures would shove them, sometimes they would stand in front of them, who, without knowing why, changed their direction. The ethereal creatures moved them like children play with marionettes. Except that those “people” had souls as tarnished as the bodies of their manipulators. I know, I can see through them.
At first I thought they were humans, so I watched them from afar for a long time, trying to understand their nature. Some of the souls look like animals, with snouts and hair where should be mouth and nose. Others have holes, tentacles and strange organs which utilities I can't imagine. They emit bizarre sounds that torment my senses. The shadow creatures lash them sometimes and remove part of their souls, reseating them in other people. Many times I saw the dark claws dilacerate the demi humans and when the unseen specters choose not to reshape them again, either by the curious drive of their beings or by lack of interest, the creature's souls slowly wither in their claws while they watch the bodies collapse and fall dead.
All the souls I see are tainted by the devils and I wonder if they are the creators of that evil or just consumers of it. Either way, the shadows seems to gather were there are more people, so I have avoided both as much as I could. The thought of going home was soon discarded. I tremble to think at what I would find. Could your soul be as rotten as of my persecutors? Would they wait for me, just to have the satisfaction of hearing my pleas as they deliver a fate worse than death to you and our son? They know who I am. I could not bear the possibility of finding you as one of the demons.
When they notice I'm aware of them, they come to me, emitting their grave and desultory sounds. When they reach me, their icy claws bring the pain of the void while they thrash me. Although they are faceless, I can feel their amusement with my screams and efforts to avoid their touch. No matter how much pain they cause me, no matter how much I scream and beg for the mercy of death, I always wake up, only to be hunted again. I don't know if I'm still on earth or even if I'm still alive. At each passing day, I am less certain of my own sanity.
I wandered for several days trying to find the bar again, but the maze of alleys and damp streets seemed to always take me to the same point. The name Aldedaros burned in my mind.
I had to move to the harbor. They seem to not get close to the sea and that kept me safe for some time. Yesterday, I heard some of them roaming around the docks, their low murmurs kept me awake all night. They have been searching for me and God knows what they will do when they find me. I can't take it anymore. I need to end this today. I'm sorry, Lisa.
Copyright 2013 Mike Brandish