Saturday, 9 August 2014


UPDATE: The Disciples Of Zornath will be continued.

It has been a very long time since a new story has been posted. Many readers have probably assumed that this blog has died. Alas, it has. It has gone into a deep slumber for almost two years. I have often pondered this and actually thought of ending the chronicles. I have even posted about it (post taken down). However, the story of Zornath remains untold. Therefore, I will continue the series. There are three stories remaining. Following them will be a 'guide' to the world of Zornath. It will comprise of explanations of the phenomena presented in the 13 stories and their relation to Zornath, as there are no obvious ties at the moment. The secret of the widget on the right side of the page will also become disclosed. So prepare yourselves for some darkened prose!

- Flagellum 

Wednesday, 24 October 2012

Eye Of The Star

It is true that the lush rays of the sun reach into the farthest recesses of the land, seeping into rocky crevices and filling murky caves. Over the waters of the oceans the radiant rays dance gracefully, decorating the smooth face of the water with a hazy shade of a million brilliant colors and illuminating the neat underwater scenery. But there are queer depths beneath that sunlight fails to get into. In those gloomy expanses shadowy beings dwell. In complete blackness they prosper, only venturing out of their unspoken lairs to predate an unfortunate fish that trespasses into their forbidden territory.

The task of discerning the demented nature of those beings is nigh unattainable. Ever since man was introduced to the vastness of the oceans, his quest for unraveling their depths proved unavailing. There always seemed to be a persistent obstacle that thwarted his quest, devastating all his means and methods. Every submarine deployed to unveil the profound waters never came back; only rubble was found on the bed of the ocean. Beneath that rubble lied the mutilated corpses of what was the crew.

However, one crew member at least was able to come back alive after each futile operation, but the task of questioning him was difficult, as his sanity was ravaged by the sinister beings he had faced. In his wake he would whimsically murmur: "Starfish! My vow is unbroken.", and in his deepest slumber, unending shrieks of terror would incessantly reiterate from his dry mouth. After long pondering, scientists would then take those survivors to the analysis facilities, where they are forever bound in the chains of both madness and captivity.

Concerning what ensued, I recall what one of my friends once apprehensively told: "Johan Black, the one and only. The mightiest, wittiest man to ever delve into the depths of the ocean. He was mad. I could hear his shrill screams as they brutally dragged him into that dark room. They set him on the platform and then attached a manifold of tangled cords to his shaved head. After that, they hypnotized him and his voice was no more."

As he opened his mouth to continue, a series of thin, dark lines outlined his forehead. A grim expression appeared on his face. He muttered in a low voice: "The scientist whose assignment was to study Johan went into the control room. A few minutes after the analysis commenced, a horrifying shriek emanated from the control room. I rushed to his aid, but to no avail; he has become another victim like Johan. Searching for any evidence, I quickly scanned the room, but everything in it had begun to malfunction. The screen was blank. I gazed at the scientist. As I studied his forehead, a star appeared on it. It was a starfish, but with an eye at its center. I knew it back then; it was the Eye of the Star, the Herovex. The terrible entity that recurred in many mythologies around the wide world. The theory that most scientists used to refuse, including me. To see the Herovex is a pain unlike any other. I was indeed fortunate to not behold its true form. However, that incident tormented my dreams for days to come." He then forced a fake smile, and continued,"But the morphine saved my mind."

Thursday, 18 October 2012

Mental Funeral Part II

As the malign reptilian commenced to disclose its utter disgust, the putrid stench intensified, thus smothering me and bringing tears to my sullen eyes. However, I could clearly behold the creature marching to my proximity. A painstaking wince numbed my frail arms as they ludicrously trembled, but it wasn't until I saw the queer silhouette of the approaching menace that when my fear became intoxicating, for the sight I beheld was of a repulsive nature.

A pale, dark green painted it's scaly visage, tinting it with a color identical to that of its tendril-like hands. Atop it's hairless, bulging head surged two antenna-like horns, adding to its foreboding queerness, while its eyes, pupil-less and sterile, stared at me horrendously. Below them, a pair of slits resembled the creature's nose, but they were as static and cold as the creature's grim look and its inwards-furling colorless lips. Besides that, the creature was of a small stature, yet it was lethal nevertheless.

Its terrible grimace lingered for a long time, chilling my bones to the marrow. My mental pain was intolerable, and it seemed that I was going to be subdued soon. I felt my rocketing heart ram my ribs as the creature kept its fixed gaze on me. "What if it meant no harm?", I thought for a moment, but in the next I pondered, "No, that can't be. If so, then why am I constrained?".

As those musings brushed against the underside of my dying mind, I beheld the fatal scene; the gruesome creature snatched a drill from its pale white robes, and closed in on me. I was dumbstruck with sheer horror. As the creature delicately switched on the electric drill, I wished that I could drown again in my esoteric dreams, that I could vanish from existence. I even wanted to listen to that buzzing sound intently.

But my desperation was interrupted by the racketing noise of the sonic drill. As it spiraled endlessly, the creature agaped its toothless mouth and chuckled hysterically, laughing with manic at my ultimate failure. I was shocked when it growled, "We are the Severed Survivors! IT'S NOW TIME TO SHOW YOU WHAT A MENTAL FUNERAL IS!"

As the riveting drill neared my sweating forehead, meteors of old memories barraged my consciousness. My induction into NASA, my trespassing into the restricted facility and my lunatic idiocy when I summoned the dreadful Severed Survivors. For the honest purpose of science I was going to face a pain a man rarely beheld. Again the creature shrieked, "Like countless ancestors of yours, you shall undergo the Mental Funeral. How do you like every negative thought, memory and emotion in the world ending up in your puny mind? Would you like hell unleashed inside your lame excuse for a brain?"

Its dissonant voice began to fade away as the drill closed in on my head. Its droning sound created a trance that evoked whimsical discordance in my conscience. An excruciating pain burnt my forehead as the drill contacted, but it was so short that I barely felt it. Next all light withdrew. I was floating amidst pitch-black darkness. For a while no emotions disrupted my esoteric reverie, but then I witnessed a speck of light amidst the engulfing blackness. "No!" I panicked, dismal consternation coercing me. Like the creature I abhorred said, it was my fate to receive the agony of the entire universe. It was my fate, my endless fate, for I couldn't die. No one could die in the void.

Thursday, 4 October 2012

Mental Funeral Part I

That uncanny buzzing sound. It kept resonating incessantly in my hazy consciousness. My mind was as blank as the void, and a veil of black stretched before my confounded eyes. In this vortex of confusion, my senses were oblivious to the world. I floated in a wavy sea of absolute darkness, with obscure memories from a distant past seeping into my thoughts frequently. Of those memories I recalled not a single word, but they evoked a state of fearful consternation in my heart.

All of a sudden, an abrupt change altered my esoteric reverie. It was that buzzing sound again, but this time, it awoke me and I regained my consciousness. My blurry vision adapted to the light, and I scrutinized the scenery around me. I didn't really remember where I had been before fainting, but I was sure I had never been in that queer room before. A dim, radiating blue light came from above while the walls, the ceiling and the ground were assembled of a shining titanium-like substance. All over the place there were advanced appliances I have never beheld before. Most of them resembled medical equipment, but scattered across the table were also electrical chainsaws, drills and metallic shock paddles. I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach at the sight of those tools; having been a doctor for more than twenty years, the sight of a chainsaw in a clinic - if it were a clinic - was deeply disturbing. Besides these tools, hundreds of thick cables extended and overlapped all over the ground. Whatever this place was, it simply was a great paragon of advanced technology.

While my interest was intensely directed at my surroundings, I hadn't noticed I was bound to a platform with a rigid, upright stony surface that stood against one wall in the room. A searing pain blazed through my frail limbs, which were firmly held in place by radiating halos that tightly encircled them. This realization, as horrific as it was, failed to provoke any memories in my mind. The recent past was as mysterious and cryptic as the place I was held captive in. The only thing I was absolutely aware of was my maniacal fear. Horror slid its twisted fingers around my heart, and my mind was totally debilitated. In my current miserable state, I couldn't even think of a way to flee.

The reverberating buzz came again, but this time, it repeated monotonously, slowly turning from a distant noise to a maddening racket. Sweat seeped from my forehead, because the mental pain was intolerable. I bellowed a terrific shriek in retaliation to my desperation, but the buzzing noise refused to stop. Like a wailing siren it blurted vehemently, thus crushing my ears. Confusion blended with fear, and their hideous mixture conjured an aberrant hysteria in me. Again, I shrieked deafeningly and felt a tremendous surge of energy blast through my veins.

Silence. The sinister sound had finally receded. I felt weird compulsions of fatigue, which overcame my extreme dismay. My consciousness was again saturated with delusions of darkened emptiness, and my senses failed to successfully perceive the real world. I was waning, slowly getting embraced by the void. No fear, fatigue or pleasure disturbed my feeling-less trance. I was vanishing.

A thunderous clank of metal grasped my drowsy attention. It had come into earshot from the far side of the room. As I gazed at its source, I discovered something I had overlooked before; in the metal wall there was a little hatch-like door. I watched it keenly as it slowly yet steadily creaked on its glowing hinges. A sudden surge of anxiety disheartened my sullen heart as the door became ajar. A rancid stench streamed into the room, nauseating me within an instant. After that, a vile, reptilian hand with a greenish color and claw-like, black fingernails came over the the side of the hatch. Beholding the hand was enough to devastate any hope I had, for I recalled everything that had happened. Everything made sense then, and the shards of shattered memories were put back into their right place in my mind. Again terror commenced to engulf me, as desperation was at its highest. The sight of the hand made me wish the buzzing noise had never stopped. In a state of agitated hopelessness, I tried choking myself, but I had forgotten that my hands were thoroughly constrained.


Saturday, 8 September 2012

The Hare And The Tiger

Out there over the towering high mountains, the starless sky was shrouded in somber darkness, and the moon was nowhere to be seen. Underneath, the berserk western winds blew mightily, bearing the smothering smell of newly-burnt ashes. Together the smell blended with the sweet aroma of the beautiful juniper trees, and evoked a foreboding atmosphere in the murky forest. It was a deceiving place; the trees would lull wandering travelers in with their fresh scents, but they then would enchain them in their limb-like branches. The trees then used to voraciously infest upon their victims flesh; this seemed to explain the popular fascination that the green of this forest prevailed all year long.

Silence lingered over the grim scenery, but it was soon obliterated by the subtle trot of a little hare. The hare bolted across the clearing and rushed into the dark woods. It seemed that it was being stalked by a ferocious predator, because no living creature would enter the forest if it were unneeded. Following the hare's escape, a deafening roar reverberated intensely. A striped tiger lunged into the clearing, and scanned the area for a trace of the hare. It then stroke the grassy turf with its paw and sounded another vicious roar, for its delicious meal had cunningly fled. The tiger didn't penetrate the grassy hedge that encircled the forest, for the place terrified it and quaked its utter existence. However, it patiently waited for the hare to return.

Again silence reigned, and for the tiger moments drifted away like long hours as it anticipated the success of its trap. It stood its ground, keeping watch for the return of the feeble hare. As it waited, a shriek erupted fiercely, and the tiger winced, turned around hastily and set off into a brisk run. The horrendous shriek exploded again as the hare, or what became of it, emerged from the twisted forest. Its head was swollen and gigantic, but its body was more drastically altered, for it was that of a horse, coated in ensanguined reddish white fur. It had no mane, and from its rear end extended the thin tail of a writhing python. However, the pinnacle of ugliness was the hoofs; the hare-horse had massive, nail-less human feet that produced a loud thud as they continuously slammed the bare turf.

The tiger was already several leagues away, but the hare abomination didn't follow it at all. Its eyes opened wide as it agaped its mouth. From it rushed a fleshy hook reeking filth. The hook covered leagues in seconds as it soared across the clearing, and then it groped the unlucky tiger. With its vile red eyes, the hare beckoned for the hook to return. Again it agaped its mouth and swallowed the trapped tiger as the hook swiftly retreated into the hare's deep bowels. Using its sharp jaws, the hare gnawed and lustfully devoured what once was its predator.

Thursday, 6 September 2012

Sculpting The Monolith

Before the fiery hearth I squatted. The flames danced and crackled as they fed upon the ashen wood, pouring a warm aura that disclosed my pallid face. It was a cold night outside, but the sturdy walls of my ancient hut were to much for the snow to overcome. And so, it was an exceptional winter night, a one suitable for work. My shabby tools lay before me on the creaking wooden planks. I beckoned to the bucket at the corner of the room and it flew gracefully towards me. Soon my work would be done.

I poured the molten flesh out of the bucket. It wobbled as it took its final form. Within moments I began running my frail fingers through it, refining its features. With my knife I cut off the unneeded parts, and soon disposed of them. The flames of the old hearth kept me warm and relaxed, for my business was perilous and difficult; a little mistake could cost me my life. However, I was a master flesh sculptor; for many years I have prevailed and became the rightful king of this peculiar craft.

Great friends were my tools. With their aid, I could masterfully control the flesh and put it under my ultimate command. I would tear apart the puny flesh with my knife and place fire therein. Then I would use my little shovel to flatten the outside of the meat, until the fire took its effect inside. Yes, fire. Fire the savior from plagues. Fire the bringer of strength. Fire the serpent that spews life into the static dead. Fire the essence of mighty Zornath.

My masterpiece was nearing its completion. Never have I carved a sculpture this complex nor have I even thought of accomplishing it. However, I succeeded, and the shattered shards of life were now being recollected and reassembled into a new, lively entity. My sculpture was one of a kind; not only a design of decomposed flesh, but also a creature, a being. But it had no goal, as if it existed without a reason. Its goal in life was my choice only; I could make it a moral prophet for a pound of flesh, but I could also turn it into the vilest monster mankind could ever behold. It was all up to me, and to the divine forces that dwelt in the sky, for I couldn't go against their bidding.

Three hours passed. The monolith took its new devastating form; a fleshy humanoid being, but it was so gigantic in proportions that it was crammed in my hut. Hastily, I led the monolith outside. My plan had been accomplished. One thing remained though. I closed in on the monolith and with a firm tone I uttered, "I have carved thee from raw flesh, and fire has given thee one life". In response to my speech, the massive monolith agaped its mouth and growled maniacally. As it did that, I slipped a rolled parchment of paper through its mouth into its deep bowels. On the parchment I had written "DEVASTATE MANKIND AND PLEASE LORD ZORNATH".

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Rituals Of Flesh And Blood

The newly-ignited firewood crackled softly, obliterating the silence that reigned over the grave, dark forest. The night sky overhead was pitch-black and completely starless. Once in a while, a fiery meteor would blaze throughout the somber sky, leaving a flickering aura in its path. Then it would burst to rocky rubble as it exploded intensely. A blinding flash would ensue, only to be followed by a monolithic, earth-shaking bang. The protective halo of the planet was too hard for one meteor to pierce, but together the group of barraging meteors would batter the halo and easily smash the planet.

Below the celestial encounter, the sound of briskly-walking footsteps and the cracking leaves underneath resonated in the forest. An obscure figure emerged from beneath the murky trees into the clearing illuminated by the sparkling flames of the firewood. The figure was humanoid and tall, but his head was shrouded with a black hood. Besides that, nothing could be made of the figure, and even with the aid of the gleaming fire, for he was extremely dark. He stood grimly in the middle of the clearing, his head levitated and fixed at the ongoing explosions in the sky. Suddenly, he raised his right arm high and delicately swung it to the left. Within moments a rain of meteors crashed down on the defensive halo, shattering it at many locations. The crashing meteors painted the sky with bedazzling colors, and even the grim figure pulled his hands to his veiled ears when the sound of the explosions reverberated. As soon as the shrill noise faded, the figure's arms sprung towards the sky and he sounded a maniacal laugh. 

And as if an answer to the wicked chuckles, an object tumbled down hastily from the sky. The figure ferociously lunged and groped the object before it impacted with the hard floor of the forest. It was an altar; a stone altar emblazoned with delicately-carved runes, but it seemed that the years have taken a heavy toll on it, for it was damaged and wrecked at many of its corners. It also had a perfectly round top, apparently for sacrificing. The figure stroked the altar and then set it on the ground in front of it. He brought out a candle from his cloak and magically lighted it. Following that, he pressed the flame of the candle against the altar and then he extinguished it. A red, incandescent glow emanated from the top of the altar and washed against the pallid face of the figure. The glow betrayed the darkness and disclosed the horrific design of the figure's face. It wasn't a human; its body resembled that of a tall, slouchy man, but its face drastically differed. For instance , a long, yellow-tinted bird beak protruded like a mountain from its grey, feather-covered face. Over the beak two bead-like, pupil-less eyes loomed cruelly. The hood concealed what remained of the hideous creature's twisted face. Its hands were also clad in leather gloves.

The bird-faced man bellowed a shrill, ear-ripping shriek. He then drew his gloved hands to his beak and he forcefully agaped it. After that, a low growl reverberated from his bowels as his stomach began to expand, as if he had eaten a gigantic object. The object inside him began to slowly move inside his body, and so his stomach returned to its normal size and now it was his chest that was swollen and large. The creature growled ear-splittingly again. The growl squeezed the object out of the creature's chest; it was now crammed in his beak. A third vile growl followed. With a torrent of blood and vomit the object was thrust outside the creature's beak.

The object wasn't technically an object; it was a human's charred remains, a mutilated cadaver. The bird-faced man heaved the repulsively-rotten corpse and softly set it on the altar. Carefully, he poured blood on the corpse from a flask he had with him. Again he lighted his coarse candle and this time he malevolently scorched the human remains. As the flames fed upon the body, the bird-faced man burst into hysterical laughter as if he accomplished his ultimate goal.

A solemn expression returned to the creature's grotesque face as the ashen smoke rose in tendrils from the desecrated corpse. The creature moved its arms in intricate shapes, as if performing an esoteric ritual. It abruptly stopped and set off swiftly into the murky woods. A minute later, two sounds came into earshot: the first was that of creaking and the second was of glass breaking. Massive shards of glass were tumbling from the sky; the planet's protective halo had been devastated.