| 1.1 I dreamt of darkness; sapient, suffocating darkness, an infinite abyss from times long forgotten. Consciousness so vast and ancient, so inconceivable and alien, that it denied description. I stared into the void and to my horror I felt it stare back at me. My mind was assaulted by an aggressive and unstoppable flood of images: flickering visions of possible futures, pasts, and presents of worlds both alien and familiar, civilizations both known and long forgotten. I felt the meaninglessness of their fleeting existences in the grand scheme of things: their rise soon followed by their inevitable fall; all doomed to be forever lost in time and consumed by the darkness. I watched stars being born and I watched them die. I felt so meaningless and so lonely; I was but an insignificant insect destined to perish under the feet of someone who didn't even realize my existence. I was imprisoned in the void between oceans of shimmering oil beneath me and a swirling, hungering vortex above me. I wanted to cry, for I was abandoned and forgotten by everyone. I had no mouth and yet I screamed, begging for release from my prison in this void. And the darkness listened. From the oily black waters of the alien ocean a thousand tentacles emerged. Some blinking at me with more eyes than any creature should be allowed to have. Others with mouths filled with countless sharp teeth snapping at me, seemingly taking pleasure in the sheer terror they induced in me. I screamed and pleaded, but the darkness didn't care. Its tendrils seized me with no regards for my opinion on the matter and they dragged me towards the oily depths of the dark matter that had spawned them. "Tekeli-li!" Suddenly I was yanked out of my nightmare. My body arched in pain, a reaction to a strange tinkling sense of energy. As a reaction to the horrific events of my dream my hands instinctively lashed out against some non-existing threat, only to hit a solid obstacle mere centimetres above me with a dull, metallic thud. I was trapped in a small, confined space, only marginally larger than an average coffin. Illumination came from a dim, glimmering blue light in front of my eyes. Almost like the display of sorts it shifted casting strange symbols I didn't recognize. I barely paid attention to whatever it tried say and instead focused on finding a way to escape from my confinement. I tried to push the lid open, but the metallic prison firmly resisted my attempts to escape it, regardless of how much strength and growing desperation I put into it. Clinging to a spark of hope that someone outside might hear me and set me free, I yelled out for help, but to no avail. My voice reverberated between the metallic walls of my coffin unable to escape it and fuelling my growing panic and despair. The strange symbols, however, did react: they changed their colour to red and the blinking intensified, becoming even more threatening. I hit the lid several more times and followed up with another desperate plea for help;, this time I received a reaction. "Tekeli-li," suddenly a voice in the back of my head screeched. It was an unpleasant and alien voice that echoed through my entire body in a way that normal sound never could. I wasn't in the right state of mind to ponder on nature of the sound, though. The only thing I thought about was getting out of this small, cramped space and thus did only thing that was logical given the situation: I screamed even louder and more desperate for help. "Tekeli-li!" the voice repeated, as unpleasant as before, but this time in a slightly more familiar tone. Also it felt almost as if the voice was laughing at my dire situation. Meanwhile the red lights were blinking faster and faster. "Tekeli-li!" it repeated a third time. It now felt as if it was screaming back at me, and this time it did so in my own voice. My thoughts were divided between repeating the phrase over and over again and trying to escape from this claustrophobic prison. I paid no attention to anything else. I was slowly and surely losing hope for help from the world outside my small box. I freaked out and in outburst of pure panic I desperately tried to scream, trash, beat, scratch, yell, beg, and cry my way out of the box -- all to no effect. My metallic confinement was merciless in resisting my futile attempts to break free. After what felt like an eternity filled with barely articulate screams my coffin suddenly started to move. The mocking lights changed to green and now showed a different set of symbols. Due to my panic I barely noticed the changes besides the change in color. With a mechanic hum, the box was slowly raised upright which eventually forced me into a standing position. A few seconds later the sarcophagus opened its heavy lid and ejected me. I was still screaming and cursing when I fell down on a dark, cold floor. When I finally realized I was freed from my prison, in pure defiance I let out a pathetic scream and jumped to my feet flailing around trying to fight some non-existent enemy. Only the primal fear of being put back in the prison kept me on my feet. It didn’t take long, though, for me to collapse on the cold, metallic ground once more. No one had reacted to me. No one had approached me. I just lied there and breathed heavily until I had gathered enough strength and presence of mind to simply look around the strange room I had found myself in. The room was as vast and majestic as the inside of the grand cathedral, yet drowned in gloom and shadows, illuminated only by the flickering lights of failing neon tubes. It had Gothic arches, made out of steel, that took the shape of spinal cords rising towards the ceiling. The ceiling itself resembled the thoracic bone of some humongous creature. The walls were covered in a tangled mess of cables, pipes, metal plates, broken computer screens, and flesh, all fused together into an unholy hybrid that transcended the boundaries between life and technology. Everything was only occasionally illuminated by the flickering neon lights. This room breathed malevolence and I felt as if I was suddenly thrown into the twisted fantasies of a madman . A cracking sound caused me to look behind me. There stood a silent row of erected sarcophagi made from black metal and adorned with a threatening imaginary of skulls and muscle patterns. They were held in place by a similar sickening mix of flesh, cables, and hydraulics, as I had seen on the walls. I counted dozens upon dozens of such small prisons, all identical to one that had held me only minutes ago. They were lined along the walls and were all attached to computer screens that looked like they had died a long time ago, some merely blackened and silent, others cracked and broken. The only exception being a single screen -- probably the one that had belonged to my sarcophagus -- that still blinked at me menacingly for a short while, showing another set of alien symbols. Not long after this mockery of technology and flesh joined its ugly brethren in death with an spectacular outburst of sparks and smoke. Then the room went silent once more, only the occasional sizzling of the few still working neon lights making any sound. Due to the sheer creepiness of this place I hadn't noticed I was completely naked, for there were probably thousands of other things I should worry about at this moment. Being seen without any clothes on wasn't one of them. So far I hadn't seen any life form, at least in the way I would recognize it, except perhaps for the room itself. I wondered if the hall itself might be alive and it filled me with a myriad of unpleasant feelings of which the sensation of being constantly watched was the most dominant one. With no desire to meet the creators of this weird and positively nightmarish place, I tried to stand up, but my legs failed me and I ended back on the floor once again. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself because I didn't feel very well. My skin, never graced with healthiest of tans, was now pallid and appeared totally devoid of life, even though it may be the strange lighting of the place that caused it to look so bleak. The nails on my toes as well as my fingers were now darkened to a purple-black and seemed longer and sharper than they should be. Strangely enough somehow I didn't feel cold. I knew that the floor I was lying on was cold to the touch and the ambient temperature wasn't much better, but I didn't feel it on my skin. This was strange because I hadn't lost my sense of touch. My muscles felt… wrong, for the lack of the better wording. It was as if they were like a liquid and they simply refused to obey my commands. Every attempt to use them was in vain; sending me down on the ground again every time I tried to use them. I struggled to process this strange feeling. It felt weird, it felt alien, but most of all it was scary as hell. The only thing that kept me from panicking again over the state of my body, was the looming dread of things even scarier than these strange sensory inputs, being out there somewhere. The sarcophagus being one of them; I would prefer death over being locked up in that thing again. Which reminded me: I had to get out of this place. I didn't know where to go to, but anywhere sounded a lot better than this place. I looked around me once again and then forced myself into action. I crawled towards something that remotely resembled a computer terminal. For a moment I hesitated to reach it for it. Just above the device there was probably the most malicious animal skull I had ever seen in my life; instead of eyes it had camera-like lenses and there was enough suspicious machinery visible to assume it being capable of extending itself and biting unauthorized users. Luckily for me, it seems to be powered down. After assuring myself that it wasn't going to harm me, I used the construction to pull myself back on my feet. This time I had much more success with standing up than during my previous attempt, only to experience the liquid-like sensation spreading from my legs to my gut. A lump rose in my throat and I vomited. I was absolutely shocked, to see more than just bile coming out. Along with the contents of my stomach I coughed up blood and dark, shriveled, chunks of flesh went bouncing across the floor. My stomach contracted and heaved, and with each convulsion more and more of my innards was expelled from my mouth, each time leaving my girth noticeably smaller. A final great heave literally sucked whatever was left of my internal organs into the void of my abdomen and then expelled them from my body. My bones and muscles popped and cracked and my hips split in half for a moment before reforming itself into a slightly wider configuration. It was as quick as it was painful -- like a seizure -- I had never ever felt so much pain in my live. When the convulsions finally stopped, my knees collapsed once more, sending me sprawling straight into the dark purple mess on the floor. I was gasping for breath and I was shaking. With my eyes wide opened and terrified out of mind I stared into the bloody mess around me, unable to understand why I was still alive. Finally, after what had seemed like the longest seconds of my life, I felt neither pain nor cold any more. I wanted to run away from this place, but no matter how hard I tried I simply couldn't; my strength was gone and slowly my mind was filled with an apathy that dulled even the fear of death. Against all odds -- considering the status of my body -- I reached out and pulled myself across the cold floor towards a spot between the machinery. There I curled up into a pathetic, whimpering ball |
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| Nice to see you got around to start a story on your own :) An unexpected start since I hadn't noticed the F, but it'll be interesting to see what you decide to go with as far as the world, characters and such go, as well as to have another story from a female point of view |
| Yikes. Right out the gate Malise sets a high bar for body horror. I like the imagery in that opening paragraph, and I'm very much a fan of that Harlan Ellison reference. I am intrigued by the heavy use of Lovecraftian tropes, especially in light of the direction that City of Thorns will be taking. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Bam! And the title for The Creepiest Story Opening on this forum goes to Malise! Needless to say that I like it :-) |
MetallumOperaturDec 25, 2015 9:21 AM
| Good so far, look forward to chapter 2! |
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| This is quite different from the other stories seen so far. |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
| 1.2 Some time passed before I regained my senses. My mind felt fluid - a feeling it shared with my muscles - blissfully dulling my senses and distracting me from the horrors that had brought me into my current state, in favour of some small unimportant things that I noticed without even opening my eyes. My legs for example were quite a bit longer than I remembered them which made it easy to tuck them under my chin. My skin was perfectly smooth and pleasant to touch; the dryness caused regularly having to shave a constantly returning stubble of hairs was gone. My blissful state of denial didn't last long, though. I slowly opened my eyes and blurs became shapes again and revealing the nightmarish scenery that lay before me. And it filled me with dread. I trembled when I looked down on the path of blood and flesh chunks. What once had been my organs was now spread around the floor as a disgusting reminder that I should've been dead a hundred times over. Yet for some reason I wasn't. My dulled and confused senses refusing to work in an ordinary human way saved me from having to smell the disgusting putrid odour it must certainly have been giving off. It was a minor solace, though, because my eyes were in perfect working order, perhaps they even worked a bit too well. And whatever my senses didn’t pick up was quickly filled in by my imagination with terrifying precision. I unfolded from my foetal position and felt the stickiness of the congealing purple gore that covered my front. My hair felt equally tacky and although it was unpleasant I had no interest to check it at this moment. The sight before me was enough to convince me to inspect my body for injuries or any sources of pain. Surprisingly there were none; the pain had almost washed away and all small imperfections that had nagged me since my teenage years had faded into nothingness. My skin was now smooth and my body now had a perfect slim athletic shape without even the slightest hint of fat. While not graced with visible muscles, my body now had a firmness many models and athletes could only dream off. Sadly, it came with a cost I never agreed to pay. Skin gained a cadaverously pale tone unnatural for a human being combined with a splashes of blood left over from the previous, more painful changes serving as a drastic reminder that there was something very, very wrong that otherwise enviably shaped body, and it scared me. Any further thoughts of vanity were quickly and effectively cast away as my stomach churned and bubbled in protest; bringing me back to the dark and gory present. With great effort I forced myself back to my feet using a nearby construction as support. After a single step I lost my balance and lurched forward. I braced myself for another face check of the floor, but this time something in the back of my head clicked: the tension almost immediately washed out of my limbs and it allowed me to make a few quick steps forward, admittedly accompanied with inelegant hand-waving to prevent me from plummeting to the ground again. I almost fell down a few seconds later when a sinister laugher echoed through my head, but there was no one in sight. The laugh had gotten me shaking again. I desperately looked around until my sight set on something I thought were garage-sized doors set in a massive frame on the opposite side of the hall. Albeit closed they offered a glimmer of hope that I might find an escape from this nightmare should I find a way to open them. I tried to run, but my body stubbornly refused to obey that command and my first attempt for fast movement ended up with me falling towards a nearby standing sarcophagus. As I fell, I let out a scared shriek, quickly pushing myself away from the box and back on my feet. Once again a mysterious voice laughed, echoing through my skull like thunderstorm. "Tekeli-li!" I shrieked out in pure shock, unable to fathom the reason why I spoke this word or what it even meant. I shook my head, in attempt to put my shattered mind back together. "Who's there?" I screamed out. My voice reverberated through the hall with a completely different acoustic than the laugher I had heard. There was no response. Again I wanted to run away, but I could barely stand on my feet. While struggling to keep my balance, I made a few uncertain steps towards my destination with the grace of a toddler just learning to walk. I guess it could be unfamiliarity with my new body; almost everything I remembered about myself seemed out of sync with my “new body”, including the length of my limbs and along with that my height. It was almost as if it was unnatural for my body to walk on only two legs. A silent laugher accompanied by myriads of whispers seemed to follow me around, yet each time I looked there was no one there. I shook my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts, silence the whispers, and focus my mind solely on moving forward. I couldn’t help but think about how pathetic I must look right now, limping around with a drunkard’s sway. A sudden surge accompanied by a fountain of sparks from some nearby grotesque machinery reminded me how desperately I wanted to leave this gloomy, unfriendly place and its opened sarcophagi that threatened to swallow me whole. I wearily looked around as I moved forward through the hall. I was on edge and every time I heard the screeching sounds of metal expanding and contracting or the muffled whispers that may or may not have been the part of my imagination I turned to face the direction I thought it came from. The sounds were accompanied by strange shadows that crept along the ornate decoration and felt almost like they tried to reach for me. I had the feeling I was going crazy. That nearly everything in this room had a skull obsessed design made it even worse. As I walked forward the depressing imagery of this place soaked into me, I could feel traces of chaos and destruction all around me. I saw a few plastic containers, some small boxes, and several tubes scattered on the floor, which suggested this place was abandoned with great haste. Scorched traces of fires or explosions covered the walls and the bizarre failing machinery. That what was left of remaining working lights all sizzled and blinked, barely able to keep the room illuminated. Most of the scary sarcophagi lining along one of the walls were opened and empty. Some were notably damaged with their metallic lids blasted away from the hydraulic mechanism that operated them. However a few of them were still closed. I limped through the hall and wondered what would be more terrifying: that there might be someone else imprisoned inside - just like I was - or that there was no one else at all. The longer I spent in this place the more it seemed a ruin, abandoned by its creators. Considering the fact that coughed up my organs and against all logic I hadn't died yet. I figured that I could've been locked in there screaming for an eternity. The thought of that alone was enough to give me another set of nightmares as if everything I've experienced so far wasn’t enough already. At the end of the hall the massive doors silently awaited my arrival. A horned animal skull engraved on its surface glared at me malevolently, filling me with despair. The doors were made of heavily reinforced steel or a similar looking material. I noticed they were sliding doors that were most likely operated by some kind of powered mechanism, but at first glance I couldn’t find any handles or levers to open them. Even with my near non-existent knowledge on the subject, I knew that these doors were designed to resist attempts of forced entry. It didn't prevent me from banging on the doors before I got the presence of mind to go and look for a switch, lever, or some other means to operate them. There was a screen built into a nearby wall that was accompanied by a similar looking mechanical skull to one I had seen above another terminal. There were no buttons available, so I tapped the screen several times and then hit it when it didn't work, but it was all to no avail. I was quickly running out of options, so I limped back towards the doors and in a desperate attempt tried to pull the doors apart, but again it was absolutely futile. The doors were sealed tight and I nearly broke off the tips of my claws in attempt to dig them into the interstice between the door panels. Claws! I made a step back looking down on what had once been my hands. Instead of my already unnaturally purple-black nails, my fingertips now sprouted beast-like claws of a similar unnatural colour; they were sharp, curved and obviously fitted for tearing things apart. I stared at this new change in shock. I had been unaware when they had grown; I could swear I had dark, but otherwise normally-resembling nails only a minute ago. Before I had time to wonder about this change, the whispering voices returned with more intensity than ever before. Startled I made a quick turn in another vain attempt to find the source of these terrifying echoes. This time I had moved too quickly, I lost my balance and collapsed on the ground once more. I tried to cover my ears, but the voices kept whispering, one over another, again and again, refusing to shut up regardless of how much I begged and screamed for them to stop. I nearly slammed my head into the ground in a desperate attempt to silence this never-ending storm of voices, when they stopped as suddenly as they had started. I raised my head and looked across the hall puzzled, shocked, and terrified out of my mind. Yet, like every time before there was no one to be found; the room looked exactly the same as before. As my eyes scanned the walls I noticed that there were other doors, they were smaller and less noticeable metallic slide doors on the sides of the hall. I hadn’t notices them before because they were hidden behind the sarcophagi that were lined along the walls. The doors to my left looked tightly closed just like the main ones behind my back, but on the right one door was half opened and a column of faintly blinking light came from the opening. I crawled to the door without further thinking and squeezed myself through the opening. The room behind it was much smaller than the hall, but the design of arches resembling spinal bones was similar. Here too most of the lights had failed by now, drowning most of the room in darkness. The only illumination came from one, barely functioning line of small lights at the side of the entrance and some light coming through another opened door across the room. There were two rows of what I identified as lockers, or similar in-build utility containers. True to the design of this place the locker frames were embedded into the floor and adorned with plastic muscle patterns; only the doors themselves were plain and marked with fluorescent green glyphs that didn't resembled any language I could identify. The room was a mess, with items of clothing and other things I didn't even bother to identify scattered all around. Despite my present state of undress, I cared little about picking up a piece of clothing to cover myself. It wasn’t because a lack of inhibition, but rather due to having more pressing matters on my mind. The whispers still echoed though my head, but they sounded distant and slowly faded into a silent, but extremely unsettling hum. I tried to focus on the present again and made way towards the open door. The next room was slightly better lit than the previous one. The obsessive eccentricity of the architecture aside, the room looked like a bathhouse. The configuration of the room was oriental; I distinguished a few showers on one side of the room and a fairly shallow pool on the far end of the room that looked like it still had some water in it. Or at least that was what I hoped it contained, for I couldn't understand what purpose baths would serve next to such a hall filled with horrors. Unconsciously I dreaded the possibility this room had served a darker and more sinister purpose, for the choice of design was enough to drive any sane human being mad. A large mirror build into one of the walls caught my attention, or rather, what I saw in it -- I couldn't recognize myself. After a few steps and with notable effort, I straightened myself up against the mirror and still shaking I stared at my reflection with a mix of shock and disbelief. What I saw in front of me was an complete stranger that lacked any resemblance to the woman I once was. For a moment I forgot everything around me, including the scary and nerve breaking echoes scrambling my mind. Virtually nothing in my reflection matched up with the memories I had of myself. It was enough for me to doubt my own existence or identity. I never had troublesome weight problems, but I never had been interested in sports either. With exception of a few short periods of futile attempts to match other people’s standards during my teenage years, I hadn't been willing to put any serious effort in my appearance with as a result that I had looked rather bland. The woman I saw in the mirror, however, was anything but bland. She had an athletic figure easily matching the current tall long-legged beauty standards, complimented with properly shaped curves. Of course, my skin looked anything but normal with its pallid hues and dried blood covering my entire front, which looked more at home in a horror movie, but other than that the girl was everything that I was not. What was even more shocking was that I didn't recognize my face. It was still female face, at the very least, but it was thinner and more elegant; my cheekbones were slightly more prominent; my chin now had an elegant point; all my skin imperfection were gone; my lips now pouted slightly, enough to be called cute or even sensuous, were it not for their deep black coloration. Odd skin colour aside, I looked definitely better, but almost anything that had once defined me was now gone. My once blonde hair also changed, gaining a slightly darker colour with addition of strains of dark violet as part of its unnatural appearance. To make in even worse, they were slick and were mixed with chucks and bits of gore in between. As shocking and disgusting it may have been - especially when it came to the “being in a completely different body” part - things started to get even worse from there. Aside from my skin tone it was still the body of a human, at very least. My eyes, on the other hand, were definitely not human anymore. My once grey irises were now golden yellow and my pupils were slit like those of a cat or a snake and worst of all they now gave out a malevolent, sickly glow that contrasted heavily with the dark shading that surrounded them. I touched my cheeks and lips to acknowledge that I was in fact looking at myself. I had completely forgotten that I now had sharp claws rather than hands. As soon as I noticed it I instinctively pulled my hands -- or claws -- away and unintentionally scratched my lips and cheeks in the process, leaving deep cuts across my face in their wake. I yelped out in both pain and shock. It hurt like hell, but to my surprise the wounds closed in on themselves and melted into the skin in just seconds and with the wounds the pain faded into oblivion as well. Still struggling to grasp what had just transpired, I looked down on my hands pondering about the sharpness of my claws, only to witness another appalling change happening right in front of me: my claws reformed back into normal looking fingers with normal human nails, albeit dark purple colour remained. Needless to say, I was completely shocked. The whispers in my head, however, found my exercise in self-mutilation and self-healing clearly amusing. This experience had heavily strained whatever was left of my mental stability, and when I looked up into the mirror I saw a glimpse of a dark figure just standing just behind my back. I nearly had a heart attack and quickly turned around -- there was no one there. The neon light flickered and sizzled casting creepy, moving shadows, but other than that the room looked exactly the same as it was when I had entered it. The whispers echoed through my head and I was shaking as I balanced on the edge of a complete mental breakdown. Breathing heavily I turned back to the mirror and leaned against the wall when, all of the sudden, a chorus of melodic female voices replaced the storm of whispers, "...is amusing," they said. I yanked out and made another quick turnaround. This time I found myself staring into the completely black eyes of a raven haired woman. She didn’t merely have dark coloured irises, but her whole eyes were nothing less than gaping wells of nothingness. That was the final straw and I lost it completely. I threw myself on the floor in terror. I was screaming and tried to scrabble backwards away from the woman across the room until I was cornered. She had me trapped, and it felt like being in the sarcophagus all over again. The woman slowly walked towards me -- smiling -- her empty eyes looked like black holes swallowing light and time itself, her white dress and raven hair flying in some non-existing wind. Unable to run, I screamed and flailed around like a madman. Suddenly my body decided to take action on its own, damaging my already fleeing sanity beyond repair. I felt as if my muscles suddenly contracted and then my whole lower body reshaped itself into purplish coloured tentacles. They lashed out against the approaching person in act of defence that probably left me more scared than any enemy. One grew a mouth and tried to bite her. Another grew a blade that tried to cut her in half. Others simply flailed at her or hurled random objects found on the floor towards her. All attacks passed through the spectre without so much as scratching her, but visibly trashing the room around. "No. No. NO NO NO!" I screamed hysterically. I covered my eyes in desperate denial over the things that were transpiring. I kept repeating that single word over and over again in an attempt to deny reality; unable to think anything else - or perhaps even think at all. I felt a warm, soothing touch over my face as I kept shaking in both denial and terror. And suddenly a female voice echoed through my head, "Easy now, little one. There are so many things I need you to do." |
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| And still the creepiness intensifies. This is shaping up to be the scariest story in the MSG. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| For someone so reluctant to start writing, this is absolutely exceptional. Not only is it well-written (I didn't really see any mistakes that pulled me out of it), you've managed to convey the sort of malevolence with the environment that would normally require a character vehicle to deliver to such a degree. Creepy is an understatement...but I'm definitely intrigued. I'll definitely be following this to see where things go. |
| Thank you for the praise! I wouldn't do it without MetallumOperatur assistance though |
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| I would probably got nuts as well if my legs would suddenly turn into tentacles. Not so sure about my eyes giving light though, although it would be freaky as hell, it has some strange appeal to it as well, then again slit pupils and yellow irises... :-S |
MetallumOperaturJan 24, 2016 4:19 PM
| On the bright side of things, you are almost save from the one of the most common threats average girl in anime faces as tentacle monsters rarely attack each other. |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
| Sweet. |
| Nice! I had completely stopped reading stories for a while (or doing anything at all pretty much) and I missed the second chapter of your story, Malise. D: Sorry for that. :/ I have to say I really like the way you write and your story so far, it's quite unique and the characters as well :) I hope you'll continue it :3 |
| 1.3 The transformation was an overwhelming experience, not only because of the shock and terror that came as a natural reaction to this unexplainable metamorphosis into something clearly inhuman, but also because a storm of new, alien sensations that flooded my mind. Despite my furious and desperate denial, I could actually feel my newly formed limbs. I could feel the tentacles. I sensed them moving, swirling, and growing. I felt the impacts as they trashed around in my panic attack. The specter of the woman was merely mildly amused by the whole situation. Unfazed she showed no sign of any worry of being harmed. Intangible she just stood there with a smirk on her face, untouchable and ethereal she could not care less for my rampage. I felt her gaze; I heard her whispers echoing through my mind with the ferocity of a thunderstorm. I didn't want to listen to it. It hurt. It hurt to listen. It hurt to comprehend. I lay on the ground and covered my eyes and ears in a futile attempt to deny what was happening to me and somehow retain what was left of my rapidly vanishing sanity. It didn’t take long for my body to reveal a new horror it was capable of, as one of my tentacles spontaneously grew an eye of its own. Suddenly I could see again, but this time I could not only see the area around me, but also my own body and face, even though my eyes were still closed. My vision shook rapidly as the tentacle started to quickly move around in reaction to my panic. What I was seeing with my tentacle eye combined with the merciless flood of whispers caused a traumatic sensory overload. I let out yet another unarticulated scream and desperately wished for it to end. Driven to desperation I drove one of my tentacles, tipped with a chitinous blade, through my own throat in a suicidal attempt to end this nightmare and abominable existence. My body arched in ineffable pain and my surrounding was sprayed with a dark ichor that vaporized after brief contact with the air. My newly gained eye provided me a front row view of my own suicide. The spectre laughed with a million distorted voices that were as painful to hear as the mortal injury itself. But death, supposed to release me from this endless agony and monstrous body, refused to claim me. The blade withdrew itself from the gaping self-inflicted wound and after what seemed like an eternity of choking on pain, the wound closed in on itself, leaving me as unharmed and healthy as a monster can be. It was the sharp pain from my suicide attempt that helped me to gather my own shattered mind, even though it quickly surrendered to my apparently inevitable fate in apathy. I looked up at the ghostly woman. She still stood here, staring at me with a devilish smile. Her black empty eyes felt like little light devouring abysses, her raven hair and out-of-place white summer dress were gently weaving in a wind that probably didn't even exist. "What is happening to me?" I breathed out. A most obvious question and I felt the mirage of the woman smirking even though I glanced away to avoid meeting her eyes. My mind breaking panic and terror was replaced with shock and apathy. I didn't bother to rise up from the ground and just lay down on the cold floor staring onto the metallic surface. My newly gained limps were spread out on the floor as if I were a dying octopus thrown onto the beach. I shook my head quickly, almost as if I tried to shake my thoughts with it. I couldn't find the strength to do anything else. "I bestowed my blessing on you little one," she announced calmly, with an echo of whispers following her words. She tilted her head, "Rejoice, for you have become the one, my avatar, my ever-chosen." I most certainly didn't felt blessed; I was an abomination with slimy tentacles. If she was indeed the one behind my transformation, then she wasn't someone any sane person would strife to please or serve, considering the amount of suffering she has forced me through. "Who..." I tried to ask, but the woman finished my words for me at the exact moment the words left my mouth, "...are you?" "My name?" She quipped with a smile, visibly amused by the mundane question of her identity, almost as if it was something no one had ever asked her before, "One in all. All in one. There are so many, yet they are all so unimaginative." I didn't say anything – there was only a limited amount of questions my barely coherent mind could produce at the moment, and nearly half of them felt completely pointless in the current situation. So my only reaction was to simply stare down in silent resignation and listen to what spectre wanted to say. "You may call me Gate, if you wish, now that we have a close working relationship”--she suggested with a smile--"I picked you out of thousands, as you will best advance my plans in the future." I didn't wish to have any, let alone a working relation with her. Her bottomless gaze filled me with horror and dread, and her tendency to speak through echoing whispers in my mind was outright maddening. "Please..." For a short moment, I've closed my eyes and silently wished it was all just a cruel nightmare that I could wake up from with a scream, but Gate's voices cut me out before I could speak up my desire aloud. "I will not change you back to the state before my blessing. Neither can I take you home." She said sternly in reaction to my unspoken wish. It triggered another obvious question that, once again, was answered as quickly as it was thought, as if the spectre could read my mind or foresee them, "See, taking you to Earth isn't difficult. Taking you to one you call home however is arduous at the best; my ability to affect the Source Stream beyond some minor changes, like borrowing you for an instance, is limited..." It was puzzling; I hadn’t the faintest idea what the Source Stream was, nor did I understand how it was connected to Gate's powers, and most of all what role insignificant me should fulfil in the grand scheme of things. But I couldn't force myself to ask her these things. Instead my mind wandered off to what the insidious spectre had mentioned about her taking me from my home, and neither able nor willing to return me back to my close ones. However, before my mind managed to sink down to new depths of hopelessness, Gate came with an offer: "It doesn't have to be this way, though." She said, "If you release me from my shackles and thus allow me to manifest myself in the Source stream, I will return you back to your home as a reward for your effort." "Home..." I whispered as I bitterly realized that people I knew wouldn't recognize me, even without the inhuman shape of my lower body. I had a different face and an unfamiliar body, it would be hard to convince anyone of my identity, not to mention that I would most likely suffer the fate of nearly every movie monster, ending up either dead or locked up in some laboratory. "You will inevitably accept my offer," Gate said coldly, "all possible timelines lead to that conclusion." One of my tentacles -- the one with an eye at the tip -- hovered in front of me, allowing me to see my own face. While it was without a doubt a truly nightmarish experience, it was barely worse than the never ending stream of whispers that echoed through my mind with every word Gate spoke. I tried to cast away the unpleasant feeling of the new eyes and to my surprise, the tentacle tip quickly absorbed the eye into itself and shape-shifted into a generic tip without any unusual appendices to it. I yipped out in shock from yet another sensory change that came with the sudden loss of one angle of vision. Regardless how an unnatural experience it had been, losing it felt like being suddenly blinded, even if I still had my normal eyesight. Gate giggled devilishly in reaction. "But since watching you is still quite amusing I'll give you the chance to reject my offer." She announced, "In that case I'll leave you to roam this dimension for a few centuries. I’m sure that will be enough to make you change your mind." |
|
| Nice chapter. You would say that getting a chitinous blade driven through your head would end the misery, but I guess that Gate's little gift is even more cruel than it initially appeared. I'm curious what option the MC will choose. Seems the options Gate offers are both horrible. Keep up the good work. |
| Yikes! Not even death is a release! And now the MC is faced with the choice of loosing an eldritch terror on the multiverse or a possible eternity alone in a living hell. Just when I think you can't ratchet up the scary any higher, you do. Excellent work! |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Dresses are awesome for fluttering dramatically. |
YummyLunches said: Dresses are awesome for fluttering dramatically. Even Outer Gods appreciate it. :-P |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
| So many different ways this could go. One (or at least THIS one) has to wonder if the MC, once regaining some relative freedom, will decide to aid the Great Old One in (likely) poisoning the source with her oldness and turning the entire multiverse into tentacle time...decisions, decisions... =) |
| 1.4 Faced with a difficult decision where both options presented to me were equally horrible, I opted to remain silent. At the same time thoughts about the hopelessness of my situation and the myriad of sensations that were being fed into my mind from all parts of my “new body” were consuming me. I didn't want to answer Gate. In part because I couldn't find any words that would get me out of this situation, and in part because I was already struggling to keep any coherent thoughts. Gate decided to not press the issue. She was patiently waiting in complete silence; I didn’t know whether this was a good or a bad thing. Her menacing gaze was eating at me, though. She let out a muffled giggle that transformed into a torrent of whispers echoing through my mind, further worsening my already excruciating headache. "I waited longer than you can possibly imagine..." She suddenly said with a smile in reaction to my stalling. I believed her, but still couldn't bring myself to give her an answer. I was aware that even if I miraculously managed to find a way back home, it would only bring more misery because of the monstrous body I now possessed. I closed my eyes and tried to fight the pain that Gate had inflicted upon me by simply speaking. When I opened them again Gate’s manifestation was gone, but the lingering murmur in my skull was all the proof I needed to know that she was still around here somewhere. Nevertheless, it still came as a shock as I heard her speak once again. "There isn't any reason why I should not let you stay a little longer." Startled I looked around, but I couldn’t see her spectre anywhere. Only an echo of whispers that was raging through my mind remained. I was all alone, filthy, naked, scared, and in agony. Hoping to find something that might bring me some much needed relief, my eyes fell upon the shallow pool. I figured that drinking and washing my face would at least provide some temporary relief and might even soothe the pain a little, so I decided to go over there. This decision brought another challenge with it, for I had no idea how to move with all these unfamiliar appendages. With no more pride to uphold I abandoned any notion of walking over there and I simply started to crawl. Crawling came quite naturally with this inhuman body, not that was graceful to behold, but at least it was something. I formed a bowl with my hands and sipped some of the liquid. The water was cold, and although it seemed fresh, at the same time it felt off. I didn’t need to be an expert survivalist to realize that the water might be poisoned or spoiled and unsuitable to drink. There was a glimmer of hope that this water would succeed where stabbing myself did not. I figured that in the worst case nothing would happen, and in the best case my suffering would end. My next sip became a gulp. I paused for a moment, and I attempted to think my situation through, despite the constant whispers in my mind that were now warping the way I perceived the world around me. Finally I concluded that nothing mattered anymore. There was no easy way out of my situation; Gate taught me that much. I didn’t care anymore to save my source of water, so rather than conserving it for later use I decided to go for a bath. Anything for a temporary relief, I though. But aside from crawling even the simplest of tasks had become challenges. I slid into the pool, or rather clumsily fell face first straight into it after misjudging the center of mass of my body. The pool was shallow, as it was a wading pool more than anything else. I had suffered my whole life of a pathological fear of drowning, and the sudden shock of breathing in water was enough for my instincts to override everything, even my desire to just die. I felt my body shift as I immediately started trashed around in panic. I tried to get back up in an attempt to escape both the pool itself, as well as the most horrible and fearsome sensation I had ever experienced. I clang to the side of the pool and held fearful of falling back into it. I was coughing and gasped for breath. At the same time my tentacles had now formed toothed maws and were snapping into the air, as if they were gasping for breath as well. I tried my best to calm myself. Even a mundane task as cleaning my body had become an uphill battle as my body kept shifting and changing reacting only to my subconscious. I tried to slowly lower one of my maw equipped limbs under water, only to find that my fear of drowning immediately resurged as soon as it went under the water surface. I screamed in shock as my body immediately tried to compensate by growing a few new appendages that shouldn’t exist on just a single creature. In a panic I lunged from the pool back on the floor. I spent a couple of seconds just writhing about and trying to cast out the voices that were screaming in my head. I raised my hands in a futile attempt to fend off the voices. Eventually I had calmed down enough to open my eyes again. The first thing I saw was that my hands were now webbed as if I were an amphibian. Perhaps I shouldn't have been surprised, but immediately I could feel another panic attack rising. I closed my eyes and began repeatedly saying out loud, "Calm down!" like a mantra. This had effect and I could feel the panic attack subside. At the same time an itchy tingling feeling began to spread through my whole body. I opened my eyes and I saw that my hands looked normal again. I saw the tentacles retracting back into my lower body. I could barely believe that I was regaining a human-like body again. I know I should have been happy for these changes, but seeing the tentacles being absorbed back into me was just as freaky as seeing them grow. Before I realized it, the panic overtook me again. Immediately a single massive tentacle sprouted out from my lower body. Again I began trashing around in another tantrum. I don't exactly remember how long I've been writhing in shock over the physical changes that overtook my body. I was completely overwhelmed by the sensation of new organs and limbs being formed and absorbed back into me again, only for another terrifying form to emerge. Eventually I calmed down enough to consciously register what was happening. I stopped moving and just laid there panting heavily in exhaustion. While most of the changes didn't hurt, the shock from the uncontrolled mutations taking control over my body for a short duration were equally taxing as any physical agony. I wanted to cry, but I had run out of tears, nor had I the energy to do so. I simply laid there paralyzed and vulnerable. The worst part was that, although I could not see her, I felt Gate watching me with amazement and curiosity, most likely reveling in my misfortune. After a few more minutes I slowly started to register more of my surroundings and I noticed something that I had missed before. Almost indistinguishable from the bizarre architecture of this place, among the intricate pattern of blackened muscle like tissue fused with metal plates and rows of insulated wiring, hidden between the arches of metallic support beams, there was a series of small metallic vents that opened and closed regularly. Each time a waft of cold fresh air was released. And with fresh air, came the promise of freedom. Somehow all my frustration, disgust, and fear were molded into a blind rage against the mechanism that could be nothing more than a mere air conditioning. With an uncontrolled fury I was snapping and pounding against the cover of the vent. I didn't even notice that I was now standing over two meters tall, just to be able to reach that hated vent. Thrusting my tentacles through the gaps between the moving slits was rewarded with painful pinches. My savage swings to bend and break the metal hurt like hell and showed the durability of the mechanism; It seemed to be designed to resist forceful entry, especially when done without any thought behind it, but it eventually succumbed. My changing monster body decided to grow chitinous hooks in the tips of the tentacles that used to be my arms. I latched onto the open gap and tried to lift myself up, leaving me hanging from the ceiling. A split second later the metal I had hooked onto bended and broke under my own weight. I ended up crashing to the ground, screaming in immerse pain as I had accidentally impaled myself on a piece of metal I had just torn out. My hand was shaking as it reformed itself once again. I ripped the metal out of my body, and the agony that it caused felt endless and paralyzing, but in the end it was as ephemeral as with my suicide attempt. It took a while but the wound regenerated, even my mind seemed to clear save for perhaps the never truly silenced whispers. However, I was welcomed to a new form of suffering - hunger. Barely able to move I lied, with spread limbs, on the floor staring at the ceiling where there was now a large hole in the ventilation shaft. |
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| I like your writing, it's very nice to read. :) The details of your thinking and panic were quite well done, in particular. |
| Well you already gotten my feedback through PM, but I'll drop a comment here as well. I like the gritty dark atmosphere. It seems that with every chapter your MC ends worse off than at the beginning of the chapter. How far will she be cast down, before something good happens to her? Or will it only keep getting worse? Either way I'm sure it's going to be an interesting read. |
| I guess u are quite unique in going in different direction than most of the msgf stories. Mdude went against everything in msgc, but no one tried to do it in the setting that was free to go as author pleased. |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
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