In the morning, Sloane and I went to find Guillermo, he advised us
that we had to wait as there was an issue with one of the trucks, something
with the motor. All preparations were
ready, provisions and supplies a plenty, Sloane then loaded his small arsenal in a sealed bag
on the rear of the truck, not willing to show them around town. Thinking himself useful, Sloane began watching and questioning the mechanics
on the truck, an old beat up thing that’s sole purpose was to go along roads,
never in the scrub, yet this looked like it had been all over the jungle. After an hour or so of Spanish and English
exchanges between Sloane and the
mechanics to which Sloane clearly had no
idea, the truck started and we were ready.
Our party consisted of Myself, Sloane , Rigel, Rick Luke, Guillermo,
Pablo and four porters, hopefully enough to complete the task at hand.
After an hour or two of driving, the
truck came to a stop at the edge of the jungle, its waist high grass daunting
as anything could have been lurking feet from us without us being the
wiser. Everyone disembarked, observing
all in our party, Rigel carried very little, his long coat that he never seemed
to be out of concealed all manner of items, weapons, canteen and satchel of who
knows what. Sloane however was the opposite, pistols, shotgun,
rifle and supplies all strapped securely anywhere there was room. Guillermo carried a machete, revolver and
canteen, leaving the rest to the porters.
Rick looked more like a westerner that we did, a pistol strapped to his
chest, his clothes clean and freshly washed, his canteen on his hip and a small
satchel bag containing minimal contents.
Pablo also carried a revolver and basic supplies, leaving most to the
porters in the same way Guillermo had done.
I myself was more cautious, my Webley revolver under my arm, my 1911 on
my waste and my Rifle over my shoulder, my light pack containing water and
food, more than necessary but due to our history, I thought it best to think
ahead.
The porters took the lead, about 15 to
20 meters ahead of us, a path had been cut recently the Jungle had already
started to reclaim it but there was enough to follow, clearly the path of
Dominguez and his expedition. For three
hours we trudged through the dense jungle, a beautiful place from the outside,
its canopy of lush green covering mountains and hills, the sight of small water
ways visible from the hills we had crossed during the drive. Inside the jungle however, such misery, Sloane
was feeling it the worst, the mosquitos
and general sounds of the jungle making him increasingly on edge, he was ready
to go home. Our first stop came and went
briefly, granting us only enough time to drink and catch our breath, the
undergrowth was murderous on our feet, even in good quality gear, this jungle
was not a welcome place.
Our second march took us another three
hours into the jungle, all very much the same, the intense green in all
directions. It was during our search for
a place to stop that we heard the porters yelling up ahead, Rick rushed to the
front to investigate, Sloane and I both
followed with our rifles ready. A tall
stone obelisk stood overgrown along the path.
Rick began hacking the greenery from it to reveal carvings of Mayan
warriors raising decapitated heads of fallen enemies towards the top of the
spire, the apex however had crumbled, a large section of stone missing. I began to search the surrounding jungle
floor for it to no avail. Guillermo told
us that these were just mere pillars constructed centuries ago and that they
were nothing out of the ordinary in the jungle.
Looking closely at the stone, the
carvings were clearly done by skilled hands, the intricate work of snakes and
details were sometimes too small to make out exactly. To me this felt like the markings of a
border, something to mark territory.
Rick showed obvious signs of excitement, convinced we were on the right path.
Pablo on the other hand was shaken, his words with Guillermo fell on deaf ears.
The light was starting to fail, the
night was coming and with it, the likelihood of getting lost unless we set up
camp soon. Rick was insistent of camping
near the pillar, however it was Guillermo who pushed everyone on, within 30
minutes we came across a clearing with obvious signs of former campers. This was the site of the first stop of the
previous expedition, small darked patches where fires had been lit, the jungle
already trying to swallow the small clearing back up.
The porters got to work setting up all
the tents and building small fires to begin cooking. Pablo approached us with a jar containing
some sort of paste to keep the insects away, fowl smelling yet effective, Sloane
lathered himself in it out of sheer frustration. Sleep was as rare as sand in this jungle. I may have had a mere two to three hours,
enough to give me the energy for another day’s slow walk, Sloane however fared no better, his only relief
coming from the insect pate Pablo had offered.
The new day reflected much of the
same, long walks with short breaks, it was at about 5pm that we reached a
ridgeline, a raised view of what was to come, despite the picturesque canopy
before us, dark storm clouds were brewing in the distance, we knew that we had
to make good time to try and beat the oncoming storm. All was for not within an hour, the rain
began to shower us in a heavy soak. The
water was cold, stinging our exposed skin, visibility reduced to a mere few
meters in front of our faces. Rick Luke, again keen on making camp to get out
of the rain was cast aside by Guillermo who seemed all to insistent to brave
the weather. We came across a fallen
tree that lay across the path we were walking.
We had begun a slow circle around a hill, a mild incline on one side, a
shallow decline on the other, Everyone hopped the tree with ease, all except
myself, my footing gave way and I found myself sliding through the mud down
about 20 meters coming to rest against another strange stone. Sloane called to me and threw a rope down the hill,
beginning his descent to find me. Within
a few minutes, Pablo and Sloane arrived
at my side, somewhat relieved to find me uninjured. We turned out attention to the stone to see
it was another of the obelisks that littered the area, this time, its peak was
intact. Again the severed heads of
warriors being offered to a deity, this one resembled a large toad like
creature, its mouth full of fangs and tentacles protruding from within. This image startled Sloane as the mere mention of a mouth, causing his
stomach to churn. He explained to me how
we would re-join the others, I knew we wouldn’t stray to far as Rigel was under
my instruction to make sure we were found.
Within an hour of following Pablo, we
had reconnected with the train set by the previous expedition, the boot prints
in the mud told us we were a little behind our party. After another hour we came into view of a
small clearing, another former campsite where our porter were completing the
assembly of the tents and tarps in a vein effort to keep us dry. Looking around I noticed something strange,
Guillermo was no where to be seen. After
scouring the area, his boot prints gave away that he had wandered in a
different direction, as we tried to follow them, he appeared ahead of us. Sloane , not one to mince words demanded to
know where he had gone, insisting on finding a place to relieve himself, he
moved past us back to camp. I mentioned
to Rigel to investigate and he did so, moving out of site. We re-joined the others back at camp to find
them huddled around a small fire barely burning, everyone present.
Rigel returned a few minutes later had
handed me a note explaining that there was another set of boot prints out
there. This gave Sloane and I cause for concern, our suspicions were
correct, Guillermo was not to be trusted, I asked Rigel to keep watch of him,
if anyone could handle such a treacherous man, it was Rigel. Sloane insisted on confrontation, however I persuaded
him to wait until the rain slowed and we were in a better condition, the
morning at first light.
The night fell again, dark and wet,
sleep came easier due to our exhaustion, Sloane and I decided to sleep in shifts, this new
information that we were not alone out here giving us reason to stay awake.
I rose to the feeling of Sloane thumping me on the boot, telling me something
or someone is out there, he claimed to have seen the glint of steel against the
fire and a scuffle before the noise disappeared. Armed and ready, we left our tent and began
looking around in the cold rain, Guillermo was gone, so too was Rigel. We followed the source of the noise Sloane had hears, signs of an obvious brawl, no
blood, just mud slides and foot prints leading away. Sloane grabbed the dozing Pablo and we began our
chase, before doing so, I took a quick count of everyone else, all still
sleeping, no one else missing.
Pablo led us on for a short time
before we reached a clearing, the light of our flashlights catching a few
things out of the ordinary, large branches and loose grass in circular
patterns, Sloane was the first to
identify it, a dead fall. Removing the
branches, we found sharpened steaks about 2 feet deep, waiting for the unlucky
beast to fall in. The boot prints we
were following seemed to be random, weaving around several of these traps
before we came across one that was disturbed.
A blood trail followed. Groans
from ahead revealed to us the location of Rigel, there he was crawling after
the boot prints ahead of him. I ran to
his side seeing a puncture through his left leg. Sloane and I argued about Guillermo, do we follow or
do we turn back. We both returned to our
senses and Pablo led us back, Rigel slumped over my shoulder.
Back at Camp I bound Rigel’s leg
tight, the wound was clean, through and through, Rigel insisted on cauterising
it with gunpowder and fire. To my
disgust, I did, strapping it tightly once finished, at least allowing him to
move under his own power. He wrote me
another note, Guillermo had been walking towards our tent with a machete when
Rigel intercepted him, clearly a fighter, Guillermo had broken Rigel’s nose and
cheek before fleeing with Rigel in pursuit.
At the noise being made, Rick Luke
joined us, oblivious to the trouble it seemed.
Having been curious earlier and letting it get to me, I demanded to know
what was in his satchel, it was too light for any kind of supplies. Luke had come across three sticks of
dynamite. Something Sloane found so exciting. Insisting on keeping them, Sloane took comfort knowing that at least someone in
the party had something useful.
As morning broke, so did the rain, the
light drizzle barely touching us under the canopy of the jungle. Undeterred, Pablo was now in the lead,
following the path of mud that was rapidly drying. Three hours into our walk, the porters
stopped, turning to face us. As one
began to speak to Luke, a gunshot rang out in the jungle and the porter’s head
exploded in a cloud of red mist.
We all fell to the ground, dozens of
shots echoed through the trees, calling and screaming from uphill to our left
and downhill to our right. Our porters
were in a frenzy, Pablo with them, they took off in multiple directions, Pablo
heading back the way we came, the porters scattering into the jungle. Sloane returned fire, emptying his rifle at where he
thought the shouting was origination.
Laying back down to reload, I took up scanning the surrounds, my rifle
ready, I knew once I fired, my rifle would give me away, no one here carried as
load or as deadly a rifle as mine.
Guillermo’s voice cut through the jungle, that we should go home, Sloane
snorted and stopped reloading his rifle
only to send both barrels of buckshot from his shotgun to where Guillermo’s
voice came from before resuming his reload and calling out profanity.
More shots rang out as Rick, Sloane ,
Rigel and I all decided that we were to make a run for it. Rick and Rigel in the lead covered by Sloane ,
myself in the rear. Rick and Rigel went
first, dashing through the jungle on the path ahead, Gunshots sounded again,
snapping into trees around Rigel as he was the slower of the two, Sloane followed, returning fire as he ran. I watched closely at where the gunshots were
coming from, I drew my Webley and laid it in front of me as I lined up my
rifle. I fired to my left, the roar of
my rifle causing a groan in the distance, I fired again at a separate source to
here what was no doubt a tree being shot and a scream of alarm at how close it
must have been, I then stood, picking up my revolver and emptying it downhill
towards more sources of fire. Again screams of close shots, making the gunmen
take cover.
I took off after Sloane and within a few moments found Rick, Rigel and
Sloane taking cover at the edge of a
large clearing, peering through the trees I was met with a marvellous and
daunting sight. A Pyramid looking Temple
stood across the open ground, about 50 meters ahead. To my left was what looked like two large
stone walls roughly 10 feet tall with an observation area looking over
them. To my right, a raised platform
covered in dozens of pillars not unlike the ones we had seen in the
jungle. We were here, Chichen Xoxul.
Moving on, we moved between the walls,
atop them, jutting out were two large hoops, this was clearly a Mayan game of
some sort, further along between the walls, tents, the first expedition.
Again, moving cautiously, the camp was
dead, no signs of life, all that was left were bodies strewn across the ground,
some suffering the same fate of the corpse outside, other shot dead by arrows
and sliced by steel, however, the disturbing sight saw no body retain its head. Something here was very wrong, Rigel motioned
for me to join him at the storage area, almost all provisions of the party here
had been untouched, they were packed for an extended stay but no sign of
disturbance to the food showed more than a day or two of activity, again, the
bodies seemed preserved. Sloane called for me to look at something a way off
in the long grass, he described to me spines like that you see on the back of a
porcupine, only bigger, I however saw nothing, but did not for one instant
think of accusing him of seeing things, we both were rattled. Rick then pointed in another direction,
exclaiming he saw the familiar tail of a leopard, only larger than normal.
Enough loitering here, We moved to the
pillars, some 60 meters away, the raised platform would give us an eye on the
surroundings and we would see anything that entered the clearing. Rick in the lead again, followed by Sloane and Rigel with me covering the rear. We moved quickly but cautiously, we were all
on edge that we may not be alone in this tall grass.
As my eyes scanned the grass while
moving backwards, something caught my eye, A large beetle of some kind, not
just large, but enormous, the size of a large swine. It resembled that of the Egyptian scarab, its
bold armour plates revealing themselves momentarily above the grass before
flickering a shimmering silver and returning under the grass line. I needed to see it again. I rushed everyone on to the ruins, all of us
taking a knee at various pillars and looking over the grass we had
traversed. Trails like lines in the sand
where we had moved from the walls to the platform where we now resided, behind
the line we had made, a much thicker line, something had followed us, stopping
short of meeting us and vanished, as if the beetle had taken flight without me
seeing it and vanishing into thin air. I
turned my attention to the pillars.
Several feet tall, at their peak, the severed heads of the previous
expedition members, all of them. Turning
my gaze lower, several pillars depicted the same toad like being, others a star
or sun, however not the same as more traditional depiction of the sun known to
me. My eyes however were drawn lower,
men amongst the pillars, Mayan men in traditional dress and armour, flickering
the same way as the beetle I had seen in the grass.
I drew my 1911 and fired at one of
them, collecting the pillar an inch above his head. Sloane , who had decided to liberate the
dynamite from Rick’s satchel as he was clearly in no shape to use it, turned to
me at the sound of my shot just in time to see another Mayan loose an arrow
directly at my chest. It struck me dead
centre, however I did not bleed. A
strange sensation came over me as the arrow passed straight through me, sending
a tingling sensation across my entire body.
Passing through me it hit the pillar a few feet behind me and crashed to
the stone floor. Gripping my chest and
searching for the Mayan’s who had disappeared from view, I made the decision to
move to the temple, somewhere less exposed and defensible against whatever was
out here.
The temple was only a short distance
away, again I took the rear guard as Sloane took the lead this time, it was clear that the
ongoing of this place had shocked Rick into a sheep rather than a shepherd,
blindly following us as his brain took time to process what he was seeing. Our ascent of the temple revealed the
landscape of the grassy courtyard ahead of us.
Vacant and bare, not a sound or sight of life to see. Two thirds of the way up the temple, large
slits, wide enough to crawl through breached the shell of the steps, a room in
the centre of some kind, my passing look was blank, nothing more than something
to look into if we had time and the risk of what was here disappeared. Walking backwards again, my rifle scanning
the grass, I heard screams from both Sloane and Rick, Sloane calling out his target, the giant porcupine,
he fired with his rifle, Rick sighting the leopard, both men fired at the
summit of the structure. I turned on my
heal to see the beetle pacing at the crest of the pyramid, Sloane and Rick both missing their shots, I fired at
it, my shot true and thumping into its chest, it took the bullet and reared up
before disappearing out of view, I turned my gaze back to the grass in case
this giant was merely one of many. Did I
really just do that? Did I just fire on a creature with no logical explanation
of its existence?
We reached the top of the pyramid,
looking about I notices on every corner of the central platform stool statues
of jaguars, all sporting rows of four eyes on each side of their face, a
curious notion, clearly stating that something was very wrong.
Looking to the single doorway leading
into an enclosed room, the apex of the pyramid.
Moving inside, this was a defensible position, one way in, one way
out. Looking around the room, at its
centre, a Mayan alter, however inverted, upside down, wrong. Around the room, carvings of all manner of
man and beast, all worshipping what looked like a sun or moon, however I knew
the symbol for those things, this was different, something foreign, maybe a
different constellation as the carvings were not mistakes, they had been made
this way. Looking at the bade of the
alter, blood grooves littered the floor, the dried blood of ancient men still
stained everything, the dark dried liquid forcing me to rub my hands of each
symbol in search of a meaning. At the
front of the alter, a large square stone depicting the collection place of all
blood drained from those slain on the alter, it depicted a large eye at its
centre, not originally carved, but added later.
The blood grooved disappeared at the corners of the stone and were
replaced by four holes roughly the side of my little finger descended below.
Sloane looked puzzled for a moment before he sprang
into action. He grabbed his canteen and began emptying it into the blood
grooves, explaining he was curious as to the depth of the holes. He then took Rick’s canteen and repeated the process,
thinking his logic was sound, I poured mine also. At the application of the three canteens, the
water filled the holes and a loud crack of stone sounded. The square slab began to move, cracking at
its centre it swung downward to reveal a set of stairs that descended down
roughly five meters.
Rick was the first to move down,
leaping for the stairs, his panic seemed to have subsided at the discovery of
this secret room. Rigel grabbed him,
pushing his against the wall before taking the lead down. It was the first time I had seen Rigel actually
sweating, despite being stabbed through the leg, he seemed physically shaken by
this place. We moved down the stone
steps single file, once at the bottom, looking around the room, the long slits
in the side of the pyramid showed blue sky protruding through the walls, a
lever had also been affixed under the entry way to allow those within to exit. The room itself, an observatory.
The walls of this room were a deep red
stone colour, all etched and carved with what looked like sequences of language
that I could not understand, it was not Mayan, it was no Spanish, but more a
mixture of many dialects and tongues all mixed together. In the corner of the room, Luke was knelt
down next to something, as I approached, I saw the old skeleton of a man wearing
very modern clothing. His bones were
yellow, as if the flash had disappeared centuries ago and these bones would
crack at the slightest gust of wind. A
revolver lay next to the bones, inspecting it, Sloane told me that the chamber was full with only one
shot fired, the hole in the skull evidence of that shot. A leather book also rested next to the
skeleton, I picked it up and began to read the writing of a Mr Alvar Vasquez, a
Mexico City address listed inside the cover of the book.
I began to read his notes on the
observatory, he seemed to write like a man in love, his fascination with what
he called the “protective Red Stone” and the carvings within. His notations suggest that this chamber was
some sort of shell, a protected place from the outside surroundings. His writing went on to depict that he knew he
was the last of his expedition alive, he was protected within this
observatory. He makes particular care to
note that this location reminded him of the occult lore surrounding a German by
the name of Magnus Pegel, a name I had heard briefly in passing previously, but
I could not remember where.
Pages upon pages of notes on ways to
manipulate and almost control the observatory, Vasquez’s writing suggesting
that this was a place that could transcend almost to view different places,
however as I read on, his writing became more ramblings that legitimate
research.
His final entries however reflect what
I feared, a man on the edge, his entries reading about something that knows
where he was, how to get to him, followed by pages and pages of the same
phrase, ‘I cannot leave’.
How was this possible, these bones had
been here what looked like centuries, these writings, clothes and appearance
reflect a man who had been here no longer than a month.
Darkness passed over the temple, as if
cloud cover passed by and pulled with it the curtain of night. It was only early afternoon, how was this
so. Voices and chanting began to sound
outside, the beating of drums and the screaming of men. Alarmed I began to crawl up the observatory
window slits, looking out, the world was wrong.
The sky was purple, not dark, but purple, the tars that shone did not
blink or sparkle, they were solid and unmoving.
Peering over the lip of the observatory window, the Jungle across the open
ground was like fire, red and bright, the ground itself covered in a strange
fog and dust of purple, not like the sky, rather softer and shadowy. Looking to the pillars on one side, it was
covered in Mayans deep in prayer, their hands raised to the sky, their tones
low and venomous. The two walls at the
far end were alive with Mayans also, running and playing what appeared to be a
game of some kind.
Across the ground in front of me,
climbing the steps of the pyramid, a Mayan crowd carrying on their shoulders
what appeared to be the armoured warriors known as Conquistadors. Their screams muffled, everything was
muffled, the noise seemed distant, not as close as it should be, looking at the
sky briefly, it made sense, no moon, no sun, but a strange other planetary mass
was wide across the sky, this is what they had been depicting on their carvings. I swallowed hard and watched where they were
carrying the soldiers, my gaze turned upward in horror to see an enormous,
gelatinous looking being, like that of a gigantic toad or frog sitting atop the
pyramid, its mouth sucking on the entrance way we had discovered the alter
in. Its eyes, so many eyes watching
everything and everyone, its teeth biting into the stone. I close my eyes briefly and looked back down
the passage I had crawled up only to see Sloane moving towards the steps and lever.
I released my grip on the wall and
began sliding down, back towards Sloane , calling for him not to touch
anything. I was too late. Sloane had pulled the lever to reveal tentacles
bursting through the opening and wrapping themselves around Rick and Sloane ’s
waists, both men screaming and flailing briefly. One tentacle moved for Rigel, brandishing a
machete he sliced the tentacle in two and it recoiled. As I slid down the window slit I drew my 1911
while watching Sloane grab one of the
stick of Dynamite from inside his coat. I
fired two shots at the tentacle that had latched on to Rick, striking it with
both rounds, causing it to drop Rick to the flor who then ran to the furthest
corner of the room and cowered in fear. Sloane
lit the dynamite and threw it up into
entry way as we braced for the blast I grabbed Sloane s hand and began pulling
him back towards me. The explosion
sounded, everything went dark, inside, outside, I opened my eyes to see the
door at the top of the stairs was shut, there was no sign of what had grabbed Sloane
and no damage from the explosive
blast. I asked Sloane what he saw and without a need for more
information, he simply told me of a mouth.
Sloane also retreated to a corner, burying his head
in his hands and falling to his haunches, we had to get out of this place. I knew what I had to do, I had to do the one
thing that would cause me pain, I would have to use the spell I had learned,
the portal to somewhere else, somewhere safe.
Looking up and out of the long slits,
the sky seemed different, almost normal again, I decided to go and look to see
if the madness I had witnessed had passed.
Reaching the top of the incline I looked to the surrounds. No people, Mayan or otherwise, the jungle was
its normal colour, however it seemed far more overgrown than usual, dismissing
it I turned skyward to see dark clouds brewing, darker than even the most
violent storms. Behind the clouds,
lightning revealed itself, green and black, the lightning was burning in the
sky. Rain began to fall, however this
was not rain, this was red, this was hot.
Looking over the grass of the landscape before me, everything the rain
touched began to burn, this was not a reprieve, this was somewhere else again.
Sliding back down to the centre of the
room I began working and carving the symbols I had been memorising into the
stone table in the centre of the room. I
felt a thud on my shoulder as Rigel stared at me with enraged eyes. I explained to him what outside looked like
and promised him not to continue until he had seen for himself, I explained
this was the only way to get us out of here.
Rigel began to climb the slits, honouring my word, I turned from the
spell and began taking another look at the carvings on the walls of the
observatory. As I walked around the room
the sky began to darken again, more clouds passed over head and the sound of
Rigel sliding back down the stone made me anxious to continue the spell.
Rigel had slid most of the way down,
his feet visible to me, he was still looking at something, I called to him only
to see him unmoving, I grabbed his foot and pulled him down. To my horror, only his legs appeared, from his
stomach up, he was gone, not bitten, just gone, a clean scorched amputation,
Rigel was gone. I fell to my knees and
began to pray, how much must I endure before I can be done with this, it has
taken too much from me already.
Sloane , seeing my discovery of Rigel,
picked me up and dragged me to the base of the stairs, slapping my face and
demanding I get us out of here. His
faith in me seemed to be the only thing keeping him upright.
At that moment, the door above us
flung open to reveal to us a great eye gazing at us. In that eye I saw the horrors of the world,
indescribable evils and cruelty, death and pestilence, violence and pain. A pain shot through my body as if struck by
lightning, everything went white.
A voice sounded in the bright light,
Loud as thunder, yet calm as a mother to their child. It asked me what I feared. It asked me who I was. It asked me why I was here. It asked me question I did not expect.
I could hear Sloane ’s voice too, only
distant, as if a wall of water stood between myself and him. He was answering the question and asking some
of his own. I had no choice, there was
nothing, only white light, was I dead, was this my mind’s doing, who was I
talking to.
I spoke of my past to the voice, my
pains, my fears, my loves, my mission, my loyalty. As the voice continued to probe with
questions, it felt like Sloane and I
were getting closer together, his voice becoming louder.
We enquired of the voice together, was
this the liar, no, the voice identified itself as Golgoroth. It explained that the liar had stolen its name
for its own purposes. I told us of the
history of this place, Golgoroth, once worshipped by the Mayans, no forgotten
to time, no one to worship it anymore, no power greater than that of
malevolence. The voice continued to
retort our responses to its questions, we were here to stop the evil, to kill
the liar. Amused by this, Golgoroth
clearly saw as nothing more than insects threatening planets. Insignificant.
It was Sloane ’s voice that stopped
Golgoroth from devouring us, his screams of the names, the Prisoner of Glaaki,
gave Golgoroth pause.
That is the liar, The prisoner of
Glaaki, the one who stole the name of Golgoroth, that is the liar.
‘Y’golonac’, Golgoroth spoke, the name
of the liar. The prisoner of Glaaki.
Insisting that Sloane and I battle
this Prisoner and that was the reason for us to be here, a long silence hung in
the air before the voice spoke simple words.
“We, battle the liar.” The emphasis on “WE”.
If we wanted to get out of this place
alive, Sloane and I knew that we had no
choice, unless we wanted to perish here and now, our work far from done.
Sloane and I both agreed, the blinding light began to
fade as I closed my eyes. The pain was
agony. A searing pain through my head
forced me to the floor, knowledge, knowledge being burned into my head,
knowledge of Golgoroth. Knowledge of
this temple, knowledge of who I had now pledged allegiance.
This temple was a shrine that stands through time and space, the things I have seen, the different times and places, this place is a mirror to all. As the darkness would decent, the reality of the time takes control, the only safe place, the observatory. Rigel, his torso out of the slits as the darkness came, half of him remained with us, the other half remained to be burned by the rain of fire. The monsters Sloan, Rick and I had seen, known as the daughters of Golgoroth, there are four of them, these beasts reveal themselves different to every person, what I saw did not match Sloane.
This place was a void, a rip in reality, do I now question the world in its entirety? Do I fight on and risk falling deeper into the rabbit hole?
I opened my eyes to find myself looking on the world as I knew it, the jungle was the same, the grass, the shy, all back to what I can only assume is my reality. Sloane looked at me as if he had been hit by a bus, we both felt the same, twisted, violated, alone.
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