COMING ATTRACTIONS: Part Five; Caverns of Disillusion
Depending on one’s resolve, some people might find that after reading this installment, a good view of cartoons are in order. Others might not be affected by it at all. This is however my attempt at true horror-with no punches pulled, and no special effects; just the mind of the reader taking it where it might venture. It is necessary as this is Page 497 in “Darkness Within”, and I needed to make sure that the integrity of the tale remained consistent-if not having more impact than when the story began…~
COMING ATTRACTIONS:
PART FIVE
DARKNESS WITHIN
Caverns of Disillusion
6
The distance from where the group had stood as opposed to the spiral stairway wasn’t far. Only three hundred yards at most—give or take. The stalagmite towered over the throng, a sinister juggernaut, an abominable sentry; it was a tapestry of vile, perverted evil and depravity. And its nature became more and more articulate as the party drew steadily closer to it. The area was no less bizarre and twisted than the environment that the assembly walked through earlier. And the eerie glow of cryptic luminescence given off by the pulsing hearts of the pustulent tumors and goiters was as unwholesome and disquieting as it was creepy and seemingly unnatural. The ground squelched quietly beneath their feet. The whole area emitted an aura of daemonic hostility on the brink of pandemonial madness, which compelled the nerves to shudder with anxiety and unease.
Thoughts became unsettled, and seemed to fragment from one moment to the next in a damnably slow kaleidoscopic pattern of surrealism. Leaving the assembly to wonder if they were hearing the sound of voices, like drowning victims whispering through foam, or calling from a great distance in the dark and outer territories of the mind.
Slowly, and with subtle machinations, and rising above every conceivable impression and sensation, there was the inexorable crawling of dread upon the consciousness.
An acute and unknowing fear that moved in like the deliberation of the tide, and made all the more frightening because you couldn’t discern the source of its origin. It was everywhere. It was everything. It was the ground. It was the sky. It was the air around you… It was the person standing in front of you. Or it was the person following behind you. Or if you were last in line, it was that unnamable thing that you didn’t yet see. Or couldn’t see. Yet you could feel the presence of it, as it drew steadily closer to you, with each hollow beat of your heart, each shallow intake of breath. It was coming for you. And you had no conception of what it was. Only what it wanted. And what it wanted was to hear you scream. Over and over and over again. It wanted to scar your mind; it wanted to scar your body. It wanted to rend your flesh and your soul! For its delight was in your suffering and misery. Its ambrosia was drinking your eventual extinction!
We are all damned…all of us…down here...
(The whispers at the edge of madness.)
The silent cries at the edge of oblivion …
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