A Darkly Dream

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
An account of the narrator who had a very surreal dream, more of a spiritual journey.

Submitted: December 28, 2010

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 28, 2010



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Author’s note: The story is best read when not in rush in order to get the right feel of it. It is also open to interpretation. Any likeness to any other story in any form is coincidental, although inspiration has been drawn from numerous sources, namely Lovecraft's work. However, his mythos has not been utlized as I intend to write my own fiction in a style that resembles Lovecraft's but at the same time different.

A Darkly Dream

Under the darkest of abyss, abound with the oceans of stars that tell tales of aeons past, it beckons to me. That thing in the distance, it calls to me in an unheard voice, pulling me with terror and curiosity. O what a human defect it is to be bound to one’s curiosity, to not know prudence. It’s all sand as far as the eyes can see, never ending, under the pale glow of the waning, winter moon which sends its gloom across the sea of desert. The gentle breeze strokes my skin and my hair so that I never perspire, but my lungs betray me and I collapse every now and then into the cold sands. My strength returns for a while and I strive to reach the thing that summons me. An unearthly glow emanates from the structure of alien construct that reaches into the abyss above, ghostly blue so repulsing but so mesmerizing. I want to turn back, my heart desires so, but my mind swerves not. As I near that foul thing, my body shivers with fear and joy, out of breath and out of strength.

It was a strange, colossal monolith with carvings unknown to this world, etched all over it vertically in columns. I figured they too tell tales of ages ago, but I take refuge in my inability to decipher their content for I do not wish to know that which should not be known. The monolith though perfectly erected, rest of the structure seems to have fallen prey to desolation and dilapidation. As I began to comprehend what lay before me, I saw a gaping black hole amongst the ruin debris of once great structure, with soft gusts of wind whistling through it, carrying aroma of an age long forgotten with passage of time. From the unfathomable depths of blackest blackness, something calls to me. I felt around the hole and discovered that it sloped downward and that I would be able to descend with no trouble. Forgoing my fear I descend into the nameless thing. It seemed like ages and yet I did not hit bottom, the winds continued to blow; the torrents of wind intensifying as I took each fragile step into the darkened depths of the old earth.

I realize I must be nearing the end, and soon after that thought had flicked into my mind, I saw a light at the end of the path. As I made my way into it, it dithered in its intensity and no later it was gone, and so had the winds, as I beheld the sight of sights, awesome in its majesty. Everywhere my eyes wandered there was nothing but the sea of endless stars, some which went astray, and planets pulling me in with allure so potent tears filled my eyes and my heart was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of the cosmic view before me. There were constellations which were not at all familiar to me, bearing shapes of things no human mind can imagine in its limited mental capacity. In the midst of the platform where I found myself stood a stone pedestal with carvings similar to those I saw on the monolith, and on that plinth lay a volume of great size. I approached it with great trepidation.

As I laid my right hand onto its leather binding and I realized it was coated in dust; no hands have beheld it in ages. I gently blew on it and as the cover materialized I saw that it too bore writing alien in origin. As gently as I could, I lifted the cover and gazed upon the first page, and then another and another. The book bore writings and pictures that I assumed told of the forgotten times, when the planet was young and lush with life. There were some illustrations that were quite beautiful, that told of merry times, and some so repulsive that I turned the pages with such impetuosity that I almost tore them off. They seem to depict the lowest point of the planet’s life when the darkness wrought its terrible vengeance upon it. After hours of inspecting the large volume, I finally came upon the pages that seemed to tell of a time yet to pass. Regardless of the incomprehensible writing, an acute feeling of fear and gloom began to creep up on me. There was something in the nature of the writing and illustrations that painted a very bleak portrait of a future that is not yet known to this world. The surmounting despair was too much for my weak mind, and I immediately closed the book of times. As I sat under the gleaming stars and swirling galaxies, I wondered about the meaning of it all, and no sooner had I begun a mist enveloped me and I awoke into the past with a start.

Many years have gone by and that darkly dream had yet not returned to my delight. However, its’ dark, foreboding shadow still lurks in the darkest corner of my mind and I wait with great apprehension of the days that have yet to come, when the terrible future predicted by the dream will come to fruition.

© Copyright 2018 Hawke. All rights reserved.

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