The Moon Stares Back

== Chapter 1: The Moon’s Faces ==
I hate the moon. The way it shines upon me with its many faces… it tries to lure me into its malicious void of white fog, and I know why it wants me, but I am not sure if I should go. It was entrancing to look at the moon. I never enjoyed the idea of doing so, and even as I looked into the shining sickle within the sky… I was disgusted. And I had the overwhelming desire to retch and turn away, but I couldn’t. The way the moon spoke to me, the way the moon smiled, cried, and laughed with me. The way it wanted me, like a nagging childhood friend who would call upon me and ask to play on a hot summer's day.
But the moon would often cry, become angry and pull at me even harder. The more I resisted its fiendish pull the angrier it would get, and then use its force to pull me back to stare at it. Forcing me to observe the rough smoothness of the sphere. Scholars and astrologists would often speak of how the moon was nothing more than a chunk of dirt and rock in the sky. But that was a lie. I knew it was something greater.
The hill I sat upon felt warm, even on this winter’s night. The moon and I traded uncomfortable thoughts and stares. It kept pleading for me to come towards it, but I had my wife to attend to, even if she would seldom tolerate my thoughts upon this hateful being. I had my work to bring to the people of Morham and I knew not what would happen if I came to the moon. But I knew it would be great… and awful.
As I had stared at this moon, my eyes unblinking and my face unturning, I had realized my head started to feel like feathers. My head would sway from one side to another, eventually getting heavier and heavier. My limbs would grow rough like rock. My ears would produce a high squeal like the cry of a newborn baby piercing it. The moon seemed to yearn for a mother - but it was time to go. My wife was awaiting me, I did hope. I laughed to myself that she had left me for the sun and moved on my way back to the sleeping city of Morham. The trees that encased me didn’t move as I scurried back to Morham. The whistles of the wind protected me as I tried to avoid the moon’s guilty gaze, like a scolding mother or a desperate friend. Constantly, it stared at with me bulbous eyes, blue the iris seemed to be. A weird infant baby blue were the crying eyes of this celestial being.
I passed through groves that would shroud me from the moon temporarily until I could move to the next grove and through the next orgy of trees that would hide my guilt and my duty. Entering through into a field of barley and sunflowers, I walked swiftly as I tried to avoid the moon’s ego. I would stare into the thick, tall, thrusting fields of food and flower only to look away quickly, and walk almost to the point of running.
Morham slept through the night. Except for a tavern that would always have wench and degenerate stumble though its breaking doors only to laugh and fall in their own filth. I ignored it. Rushing past the Morham University and into my warm two-story house where even the moon could hopefully not penetrate. But I would study this moon, I would overcome its desire and find out what it wants. I promised myself that.
I went to my bedroom where my wife slept soundly. The House of the Seven Gables, which was a strong talk in Morham even with the men, lay at her bedside, almost finished. She slept even with the burns of a thousand suns on her face (acquired when the bakery she used to work in caught fire).
I crept through and snuck under the silk sheets, feeling hot and pressed under them. But it was fine, for the moon could not see me in here.
I went to bed knowing that I would one day own the moon.
==Chapter 2: What the Moon Brings==
I awoke to the regular sounds of young children being pushed, by pony-and-cart through the street. Laughing uncontrollably like I hope my child would one day. But I woke in a cold sweat, hot but not. Wet but dry. I sprung from my bed like a grasshopper only to notice that it was still night time.
I assumed that I had woken from a fever dream - a dream that I could not remember and when I tried, it only gave me head pain and a cold spine. The children outside must be nothing more than undisciplined. So I rushed to window in my fever state to give them a lashing, as my wife and I needed our sleep, and she had seemed to have been woken already as she was absent from our bed.
But it wasn’t just the odd child or two; the street was filled with people. Child on pony-and-cart of course but also men who went about their day, smoking pipe with tobacco, reading the papers and chatting with other men. As to what they talked about? I did not know. My senses were fleeting and as I panicked I could not tell as all the voices merged into one; the women walked with school children and made their chat with other women, laughing and snickering. Trying to ignore anyone beneath their social status. I felt as though they were talking about me. Mocking me for my research and ideas as they often had.
But it was night, the sky was black and vacuous. Except for the moon. The moon was greater than before; it did not appear a small figure in the night’s sky; it was angry because I hadn’t answered it. It came down in an attempt to make me feel shame and regret, now confident and strong enough to call to me directly, angry that I did not answer.
It illuminated the night’s sky, like the gas lights in our streets; it made everything visible in the harrowing darkness. I got dressed hastily in a black suit jacket, striped white pants and rushed downstairs, in order to find my wife who was still absent.
She must have taken to the market to buy meat and milk which was fine; I didn’t need her approval as she would still doubt me even with the proof right in front of her. They all would still doubt me.
My hair was a mess, I still quivered and shivered from the fever dream, my movement slow but like an excited child I ran from my house, slamming the door behind and forgetting my key no less.
But it didn’t matter.
Everything was dark but no-one seemed to notice… everyone went about their day. Wearing thick coats to avoid the winter’s harsh wind. It wasn’t something I could’ve noticed. The moonlight took me by surprise; I had to stop and swallow as this great beast roared over me. Staring like a hungry predator. But the moon seemed absent this time; it was persistent, oh yes, very. Determined but still… I couldn’t tell if its gaze was entirely on me. Or if it had found a new mother - to which it wish to create a new being. I approached a pregnant woman who held three bottles of milk and a crusty piece of sirloin meat. Her face was pus-filled, scarred and tired, short brown hair that was fading with time.
“Do you not see that?” I asked her in a frenzy. “The moon, why is it so big? Why is it so dark? Is it not day or have you taken to your duties at night?”
She did nothing but look me up and down called me a “Hornswoggler” and hurried off.
Ignoring the woman, I approached a group of mustached men, dressed in heavy black suits, faces powdered and chins held high.
“Excuse me, sirs?” They turned to me with disdain, judging my unsuitable appearance. “Do you not see the moon? The size of it? The black of the sky?”
The tallest one snickered before the shortest one retorted. “Do move on sir, or we’ll have to tell the guard that you’ve escaped from Greenwich Asylum.”
They all laughed and a few people walking on the street nearby looked and stared as well. It seemed they could not see the moon as I saw it. Perhaps this was the moon's true presence? And I had been enlightened to it? Are they stuck to view the world as I used to?
The people strolled on the breaking cobble streets ignoring me quickly, only gazing at me to look away as soon as I caught their eyes, not wanting to catch with me as I was standing in a limp almost falling and dripping with cold energy.
“Do move on. You’ve already given Morham a bad name with your papers and rants. Best not to ruin this town’s reputation further by becoming a babbler like those in Maltron. Otherwise…you’ll get removed from this great city - we have no time for your kind.” The men turned and laughed, leaving me to be humiliated in the dark street. I felt hidden but knew I wasn’t as they clearly could not see what I could. The civilians made me shudder and quake more than the moon did. It was like a street party. Ever since Mayor Runswurth had started hosting these and ever since I had posted my paper on the mutagenic properties of the moon, every event had become a myriad of scowls, laughs and discontent.
But through the shallow darkness of the night’s moon my wife came to me.
She held the three bottles of milk she would usually buy, one for me and two for her. She held a fine piece of meat that would come to be our supper for tonight. A great roast of milk and meat. She brought me her terribly burned face that had lost its transcendent locks. Even the moon could not shine brighter than what her use to be.
“What are you doing now?!” she asked as her arms dropped to her side, nearly dropping our food and drink. ​​​​
People started to stare more, some men stopped striding and would lean against house and shops to watch me and my wife argue in the street.
“Why do you not see it!? Why are you trying to pull a joke on me?!”
“What do you mean?” Her head fell with her eyes, her arms became loose and hung in the air.
“The moon! It’s trying to swallow me! As it’s already swallowed the stars! Is it not dark out?! Is the moon not trying to consume us? If not then why does my vision lie to me?!”
“Because you’re a freak!” the tall man roared and those within earshot laughed softly and meekly at my expense. I didn’t though, not even a good insult or joke.
I looked to the moon once more. My body ached once more. My head swayed like a boat in a storm and my ears screamed so much that the sounds of laughter were almost drowned out.
“You need to come back inside.” Her voice cleared my ears and she rushed to me, leading me back inside, where she set me to bed and told me how she would have to run a message to my work and inform them I would not be coming in.
I could not escape the cold sweat, nor the pure vitality I felt from this discovery. Nor could I hide from the moon. Its inexorable glow invaded my room like an unwelcome intruder.
I stared into the moon and I relished the idea of finally being able to study this beast, to find out what it truly wants and how I might understand it but… I couldn’t help but wonder…
What if I am seen as a laughing stock? As a blind fool, without clarity?
I guess they wouldn’t be wrong. The moon seems to have chosen me, and has inflicted some curse upon me.
Maybe I will wake up to a better world, a better place. One where I don’t feel like this, one where I can smile and be joyous and happy once more. I wonder what that will look like.
Maybe when I own the moon, this would happen.
==Chapter 3: The Moon’s Spirit==
The moon was still there when I woke that morning. It had retreated back into the sky. But not before turning a devil-like red. The moon in the sky had mixed with this red colour to create a deep, red, dark-as-blood avatar, illuminating the clouds into a deep pink and purple satin that showed every single cloud, frozen in their movements, too scared to move, less the moon retaliate.
I awoke from my bed drenched in an unnerving sweat like I had the previous night. The sky did not scare me. I was ready to see what the moon would teach me. I left my bed in a hurry, noticing the absence of my wife once more. I assumed she was out again, with her friends at the women’s club or picking up food for us… again. I had assumed I was in the same state that I had gone to bed in. Or maybe the moon had taught me something and I was in a higher state. The true state. The people were still the same, the men still squalled and smoked, the women still laughed and loved.
But it wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be. In this distance, crawling across the church where I pray every Friday was a great creature. Its limbs seemed to be old and decaying, attached to the church the same way a spider attaches to a wall. Its brown brooding body had seven pointed daggers for legs that seemed pinned into this creature, in inconsistent places, stretching about 15ft wide; it hugged the church with its protruding eyes, sun-like orange were its irises and a deep gray were its sclerae. Its eyes darted like a violent, sprawled across its back. There were five eyes on this one, three of them were large whilst the other two were short and stout. Its skin seemed patchy and rough and like petting a dying dog. White and dying fur with some tendrils or tentacles spewing from the skin that erupted into a mass of patchy blackness that came from various places on its body. It was nameless. I could not name the beast after me if I wanted. It scuttled on the spot, looking for something to maim. It did not scare me the same way a lion might scare me; it would not pierce my body with a large leg but rather tear apart my reality and then eat me.
These spider creatures seemed to be placed everywhere; they hugged the walls of buildings, using a weak network of nets and webbing that a couple of the spiders seemed to cling to. The houses and buildings and the churches and shops that I could see from my second floor window had these spider creatures on them. I had no clue to why; I wondered if one was on my house? But I would’ve heard a creature of that magnitude on top of my house.
…Or would I?
I have no idea how long I’d slept; the passage of time has eluded me so greatly that I had no clue to the time of day. The people moved the same so I must’ve slept for a full day, but that was madness. What an insane thought, to sleep for a full 24 hours?
I ran downstairs, checking for my wife once more before I ran out.
Suddenly, these creatures stared at me. In an instant, they stopped squirming and moving aimlessly but they all stared at me. Even the one far off on the church had moved its gaze to me. They stopped their scuttling as I walked down the street to peer and gaze at me, unflinching and unmoving.
On these creatures I was able to notice an orgy of small mouths on their backs, something I had not noticed before. They were short, with tiny curved teeth like an elephant's tusks. Hundreds (if not what seemed like thousands) of these mouths moved in size, they chomped and ate the same way I would. Chewing… but at what? Nothing was there to satisfy them… maybe they were getting hungry?
The bustle of Morham seemed busy as ever. I seemed to still be prevalent, people still noticed me, sniggering and speaking in whispers (to which I ignored) as they couldn’t notice the great creatures hanging from buildings. They were the idiots now.
I wondered if these were the true gods. And they had chosen me to be their prophet, to bring their divine message to these plebs? And this is why I saw all this. I would be the next Jesus perhaps…
Were they judging me? I wondered as I crept through the plazas of Morham.
I wanted to cry out to the Morham residents, to tell them of these spider creatures so they might join in my fascination with me, and help me to understand what was going on.
But it all looked so unreal behind the red moon and this purple sky but I KNEW this is what the moon wanted from me, THIS is why the moon was so desperate to talk to me. Whatever I had thought the moon wanted from me, was a lie to myself. But soon the moon would show me what it wanted. I walked for a short while, trying to stare back into these creatures' eyes but at the fear of upsetting them. I acted as to ignore their gaze.
I saw cats and dogs that would often roam the streets, and upon them (as I saw on every earthly creature I came upon) would be these small insectoid-like creatures, in a swarm of about thirty to fifty, floating around these animals in a small swarm. As the dog walked: the insects followed, desperately fighting to fly over its back. They were small, numerous and a glowing white that hid their small faces from my gaze.
A small cat I had made friends with in my original realm came up to me, bringing these insects to me. Like a hundred fireflies, they moved themselves to hover over behind the cat’s back, following as it rolled over for me to pet its stomach. I petted the cat with one hand so that it would not flee, and I tried to catch and kill the insects with my other hand, so that I might observe what the moon is showing me and somehow convince someone of this place, whatever it is.
However, as I attempted to grab them, they faded into the air, turning invisible somehow. Only for my hand to be bit from seemingly nowhere before the insect would reform from the air and rush behind the cat’s back once more, ignoring me. I tried this several times before giving up, mainly because an old, haggard woman yelled at me: "Freak!" and then went on to call me a ‘Looney’ and a ‘Pisspot’.
They were insane, for they could not see this.
I went on for several minutes longer; the moon stayed in the sky, the clouds refused to move, the spiders stared and the insects hovered. All in front of this nightmarish sky.
But as I rotated around this circular market street in a casual attempt to find my wife and avoid the spiders' stares, I was happened about by an off creature.
It was hovering at least two feet off the ground. A mass of gray and white tentacles, like an octopus's in the way they were built, but they were without suctions and were mere tentacles. Thick and slimy they were, rubbery and long. These tentacles attempted to outline a body of sorts. One that was hunched and squatted. It had no eyes nor any way to see where they might be. But it had two human arms that sprawled from its side. The arms were cracking and loose but rigid and tough. They were loose and made from the same tentacles that its body was but they were serrated. But they were as stiff as human arms, as it seemed to raise them - pointing them at me, before rushing towards me, hovering on the ground levitating but an unknown source. I scurried to my feet in an unknowing ramble.
The people around me didn’t offer me any help nor offer me the comfort of acknowledging the creature.
It moved to me in that unholy way, showing me its many faces. As I looked desperately and scanned its body for any semblance of eyes, I was at a loss. I couldn't turn away from it. My body grew stiff and numb, my head light and my eyes lost control of themselves. Unlike the spider creatures, who had seemed to have lost interest in me.
The people of Morham only gave me mockery and grew angry and confused as I screamed and shouted violently for someone to take this creature, forgetting that this was the moon’s doing. I was trapped by this creature. It was pulling me into the malicious void that was its tendrils. The claws that protruded from the mass of tentacles lifted themselves into the sky, before collapsing down into my chest. I screamed in anticipation of pain but was left with a strange wet feeling as if I had awoken from a fever dream and then been dried from the inside out. Sweat filled my brow and body as the creature filled me with some force that made my eyes heavy and I thought I was dying - it felt like dying. But I was going somewhere amazing.
==Chapter 4: What the Moon Wants==
I woke up on a beach… still sweating even though there seemed to be no air - hot or cold. Nothing stimulated my eyes, no smell wafted to my nose.
I have seemed to woken up at a beachfront. The sand permeated my bare skin as I had appeared to have been stripped of my clothing. I stood up quickly, covering myself and darting my head to see whoever might judge my frail body. I was relieved to see no-one was around, but that was before I realised where I was.
Well actually - in truth, I did not realize where I was.
The first thing I noticed was the complete lack of beach behind me. And instead was a host of nothingness. Sand is all that seemed to stretch in every direction outward just like a desert. But unlike a desert the sand seemed to turn bleak and dull and gray, and fade in obscurity on the seemingly horizon where a empty crescent of a view is all I was allowed to gaze upon. Which led me to view the sky - in which it didn’t seem like a sky at all. Instead it was just...nothing. There was no ordained colour to it, no cloud to draw safety from. It was just an empty colour of white mist and fog that seemed so untouchable and distant. I could fly for eons and still never reach the top of this sky it seemed.
The sea itself was no different from odd happenings. The sea was the same as any sea was. A dark abyssal blue but, it didn’t form waves. It had nothing pushing or pulling it that would make the force against the beachfront. Instead, it stood motionless, not moving or blinking at me. Staying perfectly still, except for the gentle pushing of the waves that would fade into the beach bank into seemingly nothing, evaporating. It was like the throwing off a ball but with no-one to catch it.
I stared into the sky, the empty milk of this place made me feel… unwelcome. I felt that it was pushing away from me. Not pushing me into the sand, but trying to push me away so that it could pull me back.
I hate the sky.
Not long did I stare into the sky and sea before the creature that had took me to this infernal place had come back. But with numbers. Creatures of the same design and horror of the first, came from the sands it seemed. Coming from the sands the same way smoke rises from a flame. Re-evaporating into the air.
In this, I realised that the creature I had seen in Morham had not been a single creature like I had so thought. But more like the spider things that had clutched to the walls, they seemed to be their own species. I wondered why God would make things so horrid? But I was excited, for I was about to find out why.
I felt shunned by my nakedness but knew that something great was coming. I would go back to Morham and prove to all those who doubted me of these creatures and the moon’s power wrong. Then I would be hailed as a scientific hero, a pioneer, like Jesus, bringing this new era down to the Earth.
They moved around me, eight of these creatures created a small, inconsistent circle as if a child had tried to draw a octagon. As they hovered I grew ecstatic over the thought of what these creatures would bring me. Their arms hung heavy from their sides and these horrors did not make me feel unnerved like they had in Morham, but I felt at ease. As they floated and flew, the sand seemed to trail with them. As they would float over the grains of sand in this beach, the sand would attempt to follow them, hovering and flying desperately at the creatures but only to fall and rejoin the beach.
With them, they brought my wife. The same way they evaporated into the air they did so with my wife. I had no clue how long she had been here with me. I did not know if they took her before or after I was taken. I was curious to how long I have been here but also jealous that my disbelieving wife might take part in this.
She was also nude like me, and seemed to be heavily pregnant. Her fragile body had been puffed up like an air balloon. Her stomach seemed so large that it covered her genitals almost. Her skin was white as the misty sky above. On her arms, chest and legs were a myriad of small cuts that let small trickles of pink blood form into the sand.
Two of these tentacle creatures stood by her, clutching her arms with their knife-like arms, cutting her arms slightly as they held her back.
I wanted to check that she was okay, but… it felt right to be here. It felt like if I tried to help her, I would ruin all of this. Whatever this is. It felt like a warm smile was being bestowed onto me and for me to disrupt it would leave me with nothing but an angry, scolding frown.
“Oh God,” she wailed. “I’m so nauseous… Darling. Darling?”
She looked to me through the circle of tentacle beasts who had seemed to have turned onto me, but they were nothing but a mass of tentacles so it was hard to tell. I stared back and tried to give a comforting smile. I tried to pull her to my way of thinking, to accept this. I didn’t want her to hate all of this, but to embrace it, and stare back.
“I knew it. I knew it. I knew you were special. That all your words and talks and dreams and visions weren’t what they claimed it to be. You’re a prophet, aren’t you? And this?” She gestured with her head towards her stomach which seemed almost ready to erupt and spawn forth new horrors.
“This will be the child to save the world? I’m like Mary, right? This child will be the new Jesus. But a better one.” She wailed and pained more. The burns on her face reopened and bled a light lick of pus and blood, an awful mix of blood-tainted swamp water.
She cried again. And again. And again, looking into the deepness of the sky, crying.
“I don’t understand it… but I know you do! And I know you would stop this, if it was wrong! But you’re not!”
She wailed again, looking to me for approval. I stared back, convincing her to smile with my own.
It didn’t take long it seemed, for when she stopped wailing. And her body died, leaving a bloody cathedral on the sands of this beach. The baby started crying.
She had seemed to given birth to a child? The two tentacle creatures that stood beside the corpse of my wife (Who I grieved for, yes - but her death meant NOTHING for what I felt was about to happen).
They picked up this child from the sand, and past the blocking bodies of these floating masses did I spot this horror. It was not like a child from our species, no. Its body was that of a human's though, bearing a naked chest and legs, head and arms, but no genitals.
But it had the long sprawling hair of a man who did not cut his hair for a decade - the sands of the sea tried following the strands of hair the same way the sand followed the tentacles of these creatures.
Its mouth was wider than a human baby's as it seemed to be naturally elongated, leaving a black empty pit that I could spot in between its breaths. Its arms were longer than mine and the skin was tight around them. No blood or muscle seemed to be in the arm, leaving the skin to wrap around the bone instead. It had a mass of hives and honeycomb on its chest, showing the fleshy working of its organs. And even though I was no doctor, they did not seem like a heart, liver or kidney, but rather something indescribable. Weird beating shapes of red and purple blood would be the best way to describe what I saw.
This child was not of my seed but I did not know who it belonged to. My guess, it was one of the tentacle creatures and my wife; with some biological reason why it took such a short period of time for this child to be born and concluded that these tentacle creatures might be some form of intellectual or cultural parasites. Which fascinated me greatly; I’d wonder what we would call them?
After they had picked the child from the sand a new horror came to grace me.
Dropping from the mist in the sky, splitting the sky only for it to reform. This creature was as big as the spider creatures I saw in Morham, if not bigger. A hound in the way it was constructed but not in the way it was built.
It had two front standing legs that had that claws on its toes that stretched longer than my hand. These legs seemed to have ridges that were twenty ridges long and connected to its body, which was fat and heavy like a cake roll but it didn’t get weighed down from this it seemed, as it descended gracefully from the sky. This god’s face seemed to be an orgy of eyes and tentacles. Some tubular veins protruded from its heavy baby blue neck and body outward. They were coloured a raw pink and I had no idea to their function. Between these tentacles seemed to move a complex system of tunnels and veins that moved two green orbs, the same colour of a pine tree’s leaves through them. One hundred tentacles I’d say, at least, that came from this beast's wide body and face.
On its hind legs stood large growths of flesh that were angled in the shape of knives so that it could cut quickly with them (a defense mechanism, it seemed). All in all, the most peculiar thing about this creature was the absence of connection. On its back, facing away from its face were five large, thick tentacles like the ones the tentacle creatures were made from. But these tentacles did not attach to its body and rather lingered closely between the spaces of it, like two magnets not connecting, and as it swayed its body, the tentacles moved with him, like a needy child wanting its mother, holding onto her for dear life.
The creature landed on the beach with me, ignoring me, however, and turning its focus onto the baby that my wife had birthed. It moved the baby with its front legs, turning it over and violently pushing it across the sand before the tentacles from (what I assume was its face) elongated and stretched and grabbed this baby, tossing and turning it within the air before they wrapped around it…
The tentacles suddenly pulled in every direction. Snapping the baby’s body into pieces, not leaving it to rot on the floor. It consumed every inch of flesh my wife had produced. Every tentacle that grabbed and ate this baby seemed to choke on each of its pieces, for they spasmed violently after consuming one. Quickly did its tentacles fill up with the purple-red muck of the horror’s blood. And as it relaxed its tentacles, they spilt its blood onto the sand, almost changing its colour.
Once the baby had died, the wailing had stopped. This great god still yearned for me. One of the tentacle creatures moved over and picked up to be what seemed like an umbilical cord from the feet of where my wife had given birth. It was not a pink tube of blood that human babies had but it was a black mass of muck that seemed to blink and stare into me. It was black and unnerving. A large wet stick populated with pestilent holes, one thousand at least and it curved and crawled like a defensive millipede.
The tentacle creature moved to me, hovering over the sand, passing through the bodies of tentacle creatures that formed around me the same way a human could pass their hands through the air. I was curious if I could do the same? But I’d best not risk trying.
It handed me the umbilical cord. It was slimy and twitching. It seemed to beat like that of a human heart, but I was not cursed to hold this thing for long as it dissipated and faded into my arms like falling sand, fading into a black shadowy mist that now pulsated through my arms.
I had felt weak again, my limbs started to stiffen, my head started to grow light, my ears starting to burst once more. The tentacle creatures screeched a most terrifying screech one of which could only be found in the deepest pits of hell. When these creatures screeched they left into the same sand that they emerged from. When they left they took my wife, dragging her into the fading gray sand like a mirage, leaving me with this god which was not a mirage.
It had turned its attention to me. From what I assumed was its face was now staring at me, pulling at me. The blood from the infant seemed to shine on me, but I wasn’t scared. Not anymore.
I felt safe with this beast. I was in the void and I knew I would soon embrace the moon. I knew what it was going to do! I knew it! I had told people for decades I had told them my dreams were not off fiction but a foretelling of what was to come. I did not feel scared, for the first time in a long time. I was only angry at myself for not figuring it out sooner. If I had only stared back… this would’ve all happened sooner.
I smiled and cried and laughed with this god. It approached me, every step twisted and slow. Its arms bent weirdly, and it had to lift its legs high before it could reach the apex of its step and therefore took wide steps where it would stand in the air slightly. Almost like the creature was not meant to walk. Being forced to stand like some circus bear.
It came face to face with me. I tried to hold my stomach by focusing on the green orb that still traveled between the beast’s tentacles (as it was the least horrific thing I could look at). It took a short while before I felt the pain again. The screeching in my ear that made liquid dribble from it, the lightness of my head that nearly took my consciousness. And stiffness in my limbs that made me collapse from an unknowing weight.
But I was not afraid, and I did not fall crying nor kicking, but smiling.
And as God looked over me, its tentacles spurted out once more, seeking me. But I was not afraid, for I knew this would happen.
The tentacles moved onto me, latching like leeches. But they did not take anything. In that moment I knew everything.
The secrets to the Universe, what laid beyond that deep void of darkness in the sky. The creatures that inhabited the dimensions inside and outside our Universe. The rules and laws of these places and creatures. It all became clear to me.
I had become the moon, I had become the horror that stares into the eyes of gods and men.
For I stared into the moon, and the moon stared back.
Category:Lovecraftian
Category:Dismemberment
Category:Reality
Category:Beings