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.