The sun sets and as it descends the shaded landscape starts to change; the forest darkens and as the darkness endows it with shadows its countenance grows colder. I felt as if I were in a landscape made of phantoms; mist and apparitions, even the castle itself seemed Kafkaesque; the shedding trees like sad whispering shadows, elongated fingers that were grasping at the sleeping land. And with it will come these inklings of evil; then a prescience of terror; it may be in bitter little increments-but I know it will grow, and grow exponentially, if not checked-and it’s right behind the twilight. Now the horror was on, and I’ll get on with the horror; descend into a separate realm of hell; into the ways of chaos; dip into the abyss, an abyss of apparitions, where I will conjure up some monsters. It’s a bitter litany-and, if I slip, I may be next on this agenda, where mere death would be a blessing. Then there she is, their demon priestess, in all her savage “majesty”-but to me she is a moving effluvium, a pestilence that must 140 be ended; something foul and unnatural-and the devil is its mentor. Like some kind of dark messiah, whose following is upon us. And then there’s that terrible essence, which I can only describe as malevolenceand then my life is like a mad, rushing nightmare as I descend into the abyss again, that separate realm of hell, which are the ways of darkness-from which even my prayers for protection will seem to ascend on the wings of the darkest gossamer. But the most dangerous aspect of this “prey” is that it can be a prescient malevolence, an evil which foresees things, and therefore at times it can be forewarned of anything that may be in its midst; anything that may be encroaching on its dark abode; strange existence this, where such monsters can run amok in it. A full moon rose above the castle’s battlements, illuminating its ancient ruins, giving it the appearance, as I grew near, of a massive apparition, and its presence almost overwhelmed me as I moved into its shadow. It was like stepping across the threshold of a dream-or, better yet, a nightmare, a nightmare blended with a prescience of what lay ahead; a harbinger of the horror that awaited me in its remains; of the monsters in its midst 141 But the feeling when they’re defeated is indescribable. It was to be immersed in ether; a dark, cool hallucination that was measured out in dream time. Ecstasy, passion, and pain were one. It was to be both liberated and enslaved in one eternal instant. I was almost at the castle, and as I made my way into its massive shade, there was a brutal sense of déjà vu. And there is no egress from these deeds, this self-inflicted emptiness, from which there is no redemption. It’s like being lifted from an abyss in increments-one long torturous step at a time. And then there’s that terrible resurrection, that nexus to malevolence, which I will sever, and I will step into their realm again-go hard into the darkness, but this time it’s even deeper. It may have taken a miracle to save me, but I sprang into action anyway. These apocalyptic leanings were getting mean-so there’s no room for miscalculation, for any inescapable mistakes. And as I descend into its depths its essence intensifies. 142 The terror is overwhelming, the madness of it too fantastic-and as it gets more intense, it intoxicates as well as terrifies, delights as well as frightens-and it’s this delight that frightens me even more than all the rest. I check for any unexpected presence before I take another step, before I garner them from the darkness; then I’ll descend into that terrible place again-that place of malevolence and madness-this unmitigated nightmare with no end. Then the darkness comes, and it will descend on me like a nightmare, my own separate realm of hell, as if I were a part of the darkness, irretrievably and forever there, inextricably linked with it. More signs that they’d arrived, that they’d come out of the shadows now; emerged out of their hellish realms to thrust themselves upon us. And I am operating in the dark-but I am used to going it alone; I try to find help-but it’s like trying to find help in hell. But I’ll step into it again, to where they are sequestered in their fetid realm, waiting to emerge from them like a dreadful 143 recrudescence-and its essence is intense. But I had a sort of prescience about these things, and when they were at the height of their excitement, in one of their dreadful frenzies, and I couldn’t go it alone, I just knew it, and I withdrew. Even the darkness seems to harden as I step more deeply into it. They are getting ready to become as a recrudescence, and as the malevolence enters them, I can readily sense its presence.
Posted on: Fri, 15 Nov 2013 13:12:19 +0000
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