Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Mi Go Cult Fetish

The Tcho-Tcho witch doctor howled his incantations into the night sky and held aloft the disgusting little fetish he had handled with such care we ascended the rugged mountain. He finished the ritual and smiled at me with his filed teeth, "Now you see them, the little mi-go have spirit in it to bring the big mi-go, that is the way of magic. They hear me on the world of black mountains and soon they come. He wrapped the fetish up in a soft leather that reminded me of human skin and said, "Now we wait" then he stood staring at the sky.
Several minutes passed and nothing happened. I felt like laughing, I had been foolish enough to pay this old cannibal $20 for a ridiculous ritual he claimed could summon beings from beyond the stars. I had seen far more convincing magic shows in india and china at half the price. I let my hand rest on my holstered Colt, I planned on getting a refund if something didn't happen soon.
I started to feel dizzy, at first I thought it was the heat and the noxious weeds he was burning but it was not like any drug, it was like something was disconnecting my brain a section at a time. My legs went numb and I fell face first to the ground, completely paralyzed. I heard the sound of giant beating wings and a vibrating drone like a million cicadas. The old cannibal rolled me over on my back and I saw them; three of the things, like bat winged crabs almost as big as a man and covered with a fungus skin, the Mi-go were here just as the witch doctor had said they would be . I tried to scream but no sound came.
 The old cannibal whispered into my ear, "They like you, they gone take you with them, you gone live with them forever inside of a can". They were crawling over me by then and I saw the blades, blood ran into my eyes and suddenly I couldn't see, hear, or feel anything.
I've been here in the dark ever since, I don't know how long. Sometimes I hear voices, sometimes the droning insect voice of those things and sometimes other people. The people say crazy things and some of them just scream, some say we had out brains took out and put in cans and we are in a place called Yuggoth. I wonder where Yuggoth is, I think it may be hell.
(anomalous radio transmission received by Voyager 2 on December 9, 1989 as it passed beyond Neptune)
Tcho-tcho fetish representing the Mi-Go entities.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Worms of the Earth

In 1939 a group of laborers were excavating a new shaft for a coal mine near Arkham Massachusetts when they suddenly fled the job site and made fantastical claims to explain their refusal to continue work on the project. According to the miners they broke into a large cavern and found a "bloodstained stone altar, with carvings of monsters all over it" and a large pile of human bones. As they inspected the cavern they were attacked by dozens of "slimy little snake people" armed with "caveman weapons". The workers fled the shaft and collapsed the entrance. As proof of their tale they presented a primitive looking pick type of weapon that had been stabbed into the thigh of one of the men. The story was reported by national papers as a "labor dispute" and the workers claims derided as a drunken fabrication. The mine was closed and the incident forgotten. The pick weapon ended up at the folklore department at Miskatonic University.

In 1943 Prof. Miles Chambers of Miskatonic began a serious study of the incident, comparing the weapon to similar artifacts found worldwide. He found a possible connection from references in the Necronomicon and Von Juntz's Nameless Cults to subterranean creatures known as "Worms of the Earth" and methods of contacting them. Chambers purchased the abandoned mine in late February 1947 and by the afternoon of March 3 his workers had reopened the shaft where the original incident had occurred. At 5:03 pm he entered the shaft with a photographer. In a stunning coincidence a minor earthquake occurred at 5:41 pm and the entire mine collapsed, the bodies of Prof. Chambers and the photographer were never recovered.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Chronicles of the Sorcerer

A morning came when Ysra the Sorcerer walked away from his tower in the crimson city of Ilek-Vad. He spoke no word to either servant or apprentice as he strode from his gardens to the city gates and towards the blue hills in the distance. The nobles, slaves, and watchmen all wondered at his purpose but none dared to ask, for it was known that Ysra's wizardry could kill with but a word.

  High in the hills Ysra built himself a fire to push the chill from his ancient bones. He sat watching the sun die in the twilight and drew a dagger from his robes. He tested the edge with his thumb and mumbled, "sharp enough". A whisper of wind disturbed his fire and Ysra looked up to see a tall figure obscured in the gloom and a ragged grey cloak.
 The stranger spoke, "Is this the last night of the world?"
"For some", Ysra replied and carefully rolled the sleeves back from his wrists.
 The stranger seated himself across the fire from the sorcerer. His face shown oddly changeable in the glow of the fire, at times it was sharp featured and mask like but at other times the flickering light cast demonic shadows across it.

 "Do you know me, Ysra?"
 "I know not your name, but your eyes I have seen many times before. They are the eyes of rabid hyena as it devours still twitching prey, the eyes of a serpent as it waits for the venom to take hold, the eyes of a shark as it glides among the unwary. You are death, so greedy it lays claim to all in time."
The stranger spoke softly, "When a man takes his first breath he owes a debt...I am merely the collector."
  The sorcerer replied, "Who do you collect for, what god or devil has claim to my soul?"
  The stranger laughed softly, "No god will welcome you to their heaven, your sins and many betrayals have seen to that. And no devil may lay claim to you, your knowledge of their secrets has given you power over them. No Ysra, you alone are an outcast in the afterlife and your shade is mine, it shall dwell with me in the outermost dark where there is nothing but endless waiting."
  They were silent for a while and then the sorcerer spoke, "I could live forever by means of my thaumaturgy, elixirs and potions make me any age I desire."
  The cloaked stranger replied, "It is not lack of the means to live that drives you to your end, it lack of the will to live. I see all this; you have grown bored with sorcery, wars, and women. No enemy yet lives worthy of your attention, and so your race is run. Come now Ysra, have done and finish the game, let me drown your soul in the depths of oblivion."
"You are eager to claim me?" the sorcerer replied, a note of interest in his tone.
"Perhaps I am, you are the first soul vile enough to be rejected by both heaven and hell. It will be a new experience, to share the emptiness with a being so unique."
   Ysra seemed to ponder the notion for a while, then stood and tossed his dagger away, "I think I shall live a bit longer, and perhaps I will seek to redeem the standing of my soul with the gods or devils who preside over such matters." The sorcerer smiled wickedly at death and whispered ,"I would deny you my soul, simply because it is all you might acquire."  Then began the trek back to his tower in Ilek-Vad.
   Death sat staring into the fire for a long time and Ysra swore he saw a single tear roll down the reaper's face when he glanced back. But no one knows if this true, for Ysra the Sorcerer is well known to delight in lies.