The monolithic obsidian pillars jutted out of the earth and stretched towards the heavens like the claws of a long forgotten titan. They had stood since time immemorial and the meaning of the strange carvings they bore had been lost aeons before. An impossibly tall man strode through the sand surrounding them. His black robes, tattered and frayed at the edges, wrapped themselves around his spindly frame as the wind howled. What could be seen of his flesh was darker than the void from which he had crawled and his eyes glittered with the light of forgotten stars. These pillars were the last remnants of his once mighty empire, though they had not always been.
Millennia before, when the continents were one, and this black figure, in the form of a monstrous leathery bat, soared high above, these pillars crowned the tops of great mountains. There, Yig, the father of serpents, spent his days winding and twisting his great length around them creating his children. While, deep below the still cooling crust of the planet, Tsathoggua, the Sleeper of N’kai, dug his toad like burrows ever deeper in search of their base. But the never ending obsidian went on far below and he grew slothful in the planet’s heat, and slumbered among their cool subterranean foundations.
As time passed the planet began to stretch and break. The great mountains were swallowed by oceans and the pillars were lost to the surface world, becoming the substructures of the sunken city of R’lyeh, where the writhing tentacles of Cthulhu plagued the minds of men. The dark watcher continued to wait and busied himself by taking the forms of men, becoming their Pharaohs and rulers, their visions and profits. Ever meddling in their world, for he knew it was through the ignorant deeds of these small willed creatures his time would come.
His hoards became countless and as the earth continued to shrug and shift, raising R’lyeh and its lost horrors, he became the Crawling Chaos. A great slathering tongue mounted atop three great hooved legs. His hunger knew no bounds and his will was all. Armies of dog faced ghouls, faceless nightgaunts, and other unfathomably nightmarish creatures swarmed the planet. He crushed and obliterated mankind, defenseless against these otherworldly villains. And as his terrestrial targets decreased his ravenous hunger grew. Razing R’lyeh and laying waste to the Great Old Ones and their hidden races, soon there were no others left and so he turned his malign gaze upon his own, leaving the planet barren and desolate. And so, as his towering form lumbered across the planet’s surface, the remaining Outer Gods, Azathoth and Yog-Sothoth among them, grew to fear his limitless power and fled, leaving him abandoned and alone.
The earth continued to heave and sigh. The stars shifted and aligned, and as Nyarlathotep walked among the pillars, their symbols began to glow and cry out their secret names. Otherworldy gates wrenched open between them and his waiting was at an end.
David Genter lives in a suburb of Chicago, IL, where, just two months ago, he and his husband Eric purchased their first home. David is a jack of all trades, running anywhere from wine making/drinking to soap making/lathering, but he’s always enjoyed writing the most. Unfortunately, David has a hard time finding focus with so many ideas running through his head, so most of them die early on. David isn’t working on any big projects, or websites, but he would like to prove to anyone that submitting stories to these types of challenges is worthwhile, even if your vocabulary runs dry after 150 words. When David started his story for last week’s image of the woman with the fruit, he didn’t think he would submit it. It was something he wrote just to prove to himself that he could. When it was finished, he really liked it, so he submitted it. That was enough to convince him to try again. Seven days later, David found himself writing the beginning, middle, and end of a world… And who knows what he’ll be writing next Thursday. The point is to try. Where’s the harm in it? Just see it through to see where it takes you.
David thanks his friends for pushing him as hard as they did with “Time Immemorial.” Even when he didn’t hear them, they kept on screaming.