Book of the Dead

by Greig Beck

  “Under us?” Matt asked the question, but he already believed her. He also had his gun ready, and now pointed down at the sand. He had felt something under his feet before, and now, when he concentrated, he was certain he could still feel some sort of muscular contractions going on. It was if something was sliding, lengthening and contracting, worm-like, below him – and he didn’t think there was just one of them.

  As from a signal given, more of the long-legged trilobites lifted from the sand and started scuttling toward the dark water. Whatever Adira, Matt and Abrams could feel, the bugs also sensed, and it seemed they were smart enough to get the hell out of there.

  Matt spun at a soft, sticky sound behind him. He was in time to see something rise from the dark sand like a weird plant. It bloomed, opening a bulb-like end. There were no eyes, or any sensory organs he could see, just a puckered hole that was tightly closed.

  Adira fired a quick burst at the thing, and as if on a spring it was quickly pulled back beneath the ground. The same sound came again, repeated from a different position, and more of the worm-like stalks rose slowly around them, like dark blooms opening to an invisible sun, the petals shivering as if tasting the air.

  In front of one of the worm-flowers, a slow trilobite moved quickly around the small forest of stalks. The bloom end slammed down on its back like a hand, and stuck there. Then the hapless creature was dragged, mewling, below the ground.

  “Shit.” Abrams fired on a few of them, but whether he hit them or not wasn’t clear, as they disappeared so quickly it was hard to tell if there was any damage. More of the creatures rose to take their place.

  “Save your ammunition,” Adira said, while keeping her gun up.

  Like rippling waves, Matt saw that the sand was lumping and rolling toward them – they were attracting more and more of the creatures. He turned to Adira. “There’re too many of them and more are coming. We need to be away from here.” When he turned back, it was to stare directly into the face, if that’s what it was, of one of the muscular segmented worms. Once again it bloomed open, the edges of its petals shivering slightly. The puckered hole opened inches from Matt’s nose, and he saw rows of tiny, needle-sharp teeth, all pointed inward and disappearing down into its throat. This was a mouth designed for gripping and holding on, something Matt had no intention of experiencing. He fired point blank.

  He hit it; he had to have at that range. But the thing still shot forward and momentarily gripped his shoulder. The pain was excruciating. He punched at it, and tugged, but the neck was like a cross between leather and rubber, giving a little, but not breaking away. It suddenly let go, and withdrew below the soil, taking with it a small chunk of his flesh.

  “Ah, fuck it!” Matt gripped his upper arm, dripping blood onto the sand. The effect was instantaneous. The ground began to boil beneath him.

  “Run.” Adira charged, putting her shoulder into him, to barge Matt forward. She aimed her gun down at the sand and loosed a dozen rounds into the agitated surface at their feet. She then turned and aimed at a few of the trilobites still making their way back to the water, and fired again, killing some and injuring several who bucked and flipped on the dark grains. The movement was enough to attract the worm-like predators. Adira ran hard, dragging Matt along with her.

  Abrams followed, turning to fire back at the feeding frenzy, and yelling over his shoulder as he pulled the trigger. “This place is a nightmare.”

  “And it will be like this on the Earth’s surface for the next few thousand years unless we send this thing back.”

  As they neared the speck of light, the water beside them at first smoothed and then lumped again – not just in one or two places, but the entire surface became uneven, as if there was something under the water that couldn’t break through. Matt felt his heart race. “I don’t like the look of this.”

  “Forget it,” Abrams yelled. “Unless whatever that is comes out, it’s not our problem.” The major caught up with Matt, shielding him on the water side, with Adira on the other.

  They slowed when the small fire was in sight. “I don’t understand; the red gates should be open if Cthulhu is free. It doesn’t make sense.” Matt turned one way and then the other. There was still no one at the fire.

  He stopped. For the first time he could hear clearly the noise of the waterfall. Underlying the constant splash of liquid was another sound. Matt frowned as he concentrated. He stared for a moment and then backed up a step.

  “Don’t stop; what is it? What do you see?” Abrams stopped with him, looking around.

  “Give me your field glasses.” Matt held out his hand, dread in his gut.

  Abrams handed them over, and then he and Adira, kept watch for any danger while Matt lifted them to his eyes.

  It was as he imagined. No, it was worse than he imagined. The sound they could hear: it wasn’t just some strange noise caused by rushing water or air movement against deep cavern walls. Instead, it was wailing, crying, screams of horror, terror, anguish and hopelessness. The waterfall wasn’t water at all. It was thousands of tumbling bodies, people, falling through space.

  “Cries of the damned.” Matt lowered the glasses. “When the Shoggoth have been herding the people below ground, this is where they have been bringing them.”

  He felt sick to the stomach. A living cascade of people voicing their last screams as they jumped or were pushed from the rim of the giant cave mouth about half a mile up on the cliff wall face.

  Matt could see that there were hundreds of these falls, and he followed the stream of people from one of them down to where they fell to the dark water, and where the thrashing was occurring. Whatever was in that dark ocean was either consuming them or converting them, as no heads bobbed back to the surface. Instead they were totally swallowed up and disappeared. But maybe only vanishing as what they once were ... the lumps Matt had seen before. They couldn’t have been just some freak phenomenon. The dark ocean was coated in protrusions like dark boils trying to burst free– there were thousands of them, hundreds of thousands. Perhaps they would soon be newly birthed as Shoggoths.

  “It’s people,” Matt said softly.

  Adira and Abrams stared.

  “Not an ocean.” Matt staggered back. “And not water at all. That dark mass is part of Cthulhu itself.” Matt felt tears of futility on his cheeks. Perhaps the Shoggoths, monstrous things to us, were just like some sort of tiny symbiote that existed upon the Great Old One. As it woke, so did they, dropping from its huge body like some sort of horrifying lice.

  He felt a building rage in his gut. “A nightmare?” He looked up at Abrams and wiped his face. “No, this truly is Hell.”

  Adira made a noise deep in her throat that sounded like a growl. “I have heard men and women die before. This is what it sounds like.” She turned away from the stream of humans falling to their death. “Don’t look at it. We cannot save them, but perhaps we can stop many more suffering the same fate. Let us finish what we started.”

  But Matt couldn’t tear his eyes away. The people, human beings, the rulers of the world, reduced to little more than a stream of meat for some near immortal beast that lived in this underworld. As he watched he could make out strange creatures like a cross between lizards and spiders, dotted with bulging eyes, enormous in size, crawling along the sheer rock face, and letting long tongues unfurl, dipping them into the falling mass of humanity to lick up some of the bodies and then scuttle back to cling to the rock and digest their easy prize.

  Matt felt the victims’ hopelessness and would have cried out in despair himself but he felt a strong tug at his arm, and so shook his head to clear away the dark thoughts. Adira was right; it was too late now for these people.

  “The doors.” Adira motioned to the massive red granite gates.

  At their base, four figures now stood. One was unmistakably Charles Drummond; a second was easily a foot taller with a cowl pulled over its head; and before them was what looked to be a pair of children.

 
“Come; here is where we settle this.” Adira ran toward the odd group, Matt and Abrams following. The dark sand made a dry squeaking beneath their feet, and Matt breathed hard, working overtime to try and shut out the cacophony of tormented wails that surrounded them.

  Abrams had his gun up, and Adira had the muzzle of her assault rifle pointed dead center at Drummond as they came to within fifty feet of the foursome. Matt still couldn’t make out who or what it was with the cowl up over its head, but the smaller figures were unmistakably girls, no more than ten or eleven, perhaps even twins. They wore matching dirty pyjamas and clung to each other, their faces streaked with tears, and their garments with blood.

  Drummond held up a hand. “Welcome.” He flashed his luminescent smile. “Professor Matthew Kearns, Major Joshua Abrams, and of course, the warrior woman, Captain Adira Senesh. I’m so glad you could all make it…this far.”

  Adira and Abrams spread to either side of the figures. Matt saw the girls’ eyes light up, perhaps with something like hope. One mouthed a word to him – Help.

  Matt stayed stony-faced – he’d heard that plea before, and it hadn’t been from a human.

  Drummond waved an arm around. “Don’t be so gloomy. Yes, it is hot, and yes it is dark, and sure, it’s very noisy.” He grinned. “But these are all small prices to pay to be witness to a new dawn…or perhaps a very ancient one. Cthulhu rises, the Great Old One. His physical form is taking shape as we speak. At the peak of the planetary alignment, his physical form will combine with his spiritual essence, and then a page will be turned on this world.” Drummond smiled apologetically. “Humankind’s turn is over.” He shrugged. “And as well as the human sheep, so will go the real sheep, and the cattle, elephants, whales, and just about anything that proves a good meal.” His smile widened.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Matt asked. “You’re one of the sheep. What do you think you’ll get out of this? You’ll be president, king, is that right? That’s your plan, to be king of a graveyard?”

  Drummond’s smile never faltered. “Better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

  “Who the fuck is that?” Abrams pointed his gun at he huge figure in the cowl.

  Drummond looked at the tall being beside him, and then to Abrams. “Please, show some respect. This is the Father; he is the gatekeeper, and a personal attendant to the Great Old One. Some courtesy and deference is in order.”

  “How about we show our respect by putting some holes in him.” Adira raised her gun.

  Drummond reached across and dragged one of the girls in front of himself. “Careful you don’t hit these little beauties.” He stroked the hair of one of them. “I chose them myself. They were going to be a delicacy for the Father here, but I thought they might come in handy during our…discussions.”

  “You want to negotiate?” Matt said. His head throbbed and he couldn’t take his eyes off the tall being beside Drummond. He knew it watched him back just as intently.

  “Negotiate? Does the plankton negotiate with the whale?” He shook his head. “You’re already dead, and just don’t know it.” He grabbed the collar of one of the girls and shook her roughly, causing her to scream and dance like a puppet in his hands. She cried and covered her face. Her sister reached out to her, clinging on, and was also shaken.

  “But if you really want to play a game for the last few minutes of your lives, then so be it. Let’s see, hmm, you can have one of the girls if you give up your guns.” He waited a few seconds, and then shook the child even harder. “Come on, throw them down. It’s a good deal – flesh for steel.”

  “Both girls,” Matt said evenly.

  “Ah, well, for both, I’ll want something else…I want one of you.” He looked directly at Matt. “You.”

  Matt felt his legs go weak.

  Abrams shook his head. “Nope, it’s me or nothing.”

  Drummond grinned. “Ah, the sacrifice of the soldier patriot.” He looked across to the tall figure. No words passed between them, but Matt knew they spoke just the same.

  Drummond shrugged. “Okay, we’ll play…for now. After all, we’ll be having all of you soon anyway.”

  Abrams looked at Adira, who shook her head. Her gun muzzle drifted across to the tall figure, and then travelled down to the girls.

  “Why would we want a pair of your disgusting Shoggoths? We’ve already had the pleasure of their company.” Adira’s eyes carried a challenge. “I killed them both.”

  Drummond’s head rocked back and he roared with laughter. “Oh, you mean Tania?” He laughed even harder, and then he wiped his eyes. “Put on a bit of weight, didn’t she?” He grinned again. “She was a good soldier. Enlisted Mr Andy Bennet…but you know that now.”

  Drummond’s mouth curled in a delighted smile. “I assure you these two are still human.” From behind him the tall figure lifted a hand and ran a talon down the cheek of one of the girls, who screamed in pain and fright. Blood dripped to her chin.

  “Shoggoth don’t bleed, don’t feel pain, don’t feel fear, and only lust for food and to serve the Great Cthulhu. These two are human all right.” He waited, then shook the girl again, treating her like a rag doll, to draw forth another shriek of terror. He looked to Adira. “She’s very frightened.”

  Adira didn’t flinch, her gun pointed directly at the cowled figure. “I don’t care, killing them might be the most humane thing.”

  Drummond’s smile faltered.

  Adira’s gun muzzle edged up toward the dark cowl. “Let’s see what’s under there.”

  Drummond picked the girl up and stepped in front of the tall figure. He used one hand to reach around and grip her throat. He squeezed, hard. She started to choke.

  “First one is for you then.” Adira’s face was like stone.

  “Stop.” Matt held up his hand, and then pushed Adira’s gun up. “We’re better than them.”

  Adira glared, and simply brought the gun around again. “I don’t want the girls; I want the Book.”

  “The Al Azif? You want that…now?” Drummond threw his head back and roared with laughter. “To do what?”

  A sound started up, deep, bubbling, and it took Matt a while to work out what it was. The cowled figure was also laughing. It leaned forward and spoke again to Drummond.

  Drummond cocked his head to listen, but this time Matt heard, and understood, every word.

  The words have already been spoken, and the final seals removed. It is of no use to them now. This amuses me; taunt them.

  Drummond snorted and nodded. “We will consider your offer. Your weapons and the soldier, for the girls and the Book.”

  The cowled figure drew the tome from his robes and held it out. Matt noticed the hand was little more than a slimy flipper that ended in sharp talons. He felt his gorge rise.

  Drummond grinned and took the Book from the flipper, and held it up. “A deal is done.” He shook the girl one-handed; her face was now blue. “The weapons, please…on the ground.” He looked at the child. “Oops, she’s going…going…going…”

  Abrams looked at Adira and nodded. He threw his handgun onto the dark sand. Matt did the same with his. Adira’s fingers looked unwilling to release their grip.

  Matt turned to her. “It’s what we came for. We have to risk it.”

  She growled and then tossed the machine gun onto the sand.

  “And the others, please,” Drummond said softly.

  Adira threw four more guns down.

  Drummond’s eyebrows shot up. “Well, well, you really are a one-woman war, aren’t you?”

  The cowled figure leaned forward again to speak in his strange bubbling tongue. Drummond listened and then threw the girl to the side. Her sister scuttled over to comfort her, and then quickly dragged her away toward the cliff wall.

  Drummond held out the book. “You stupid bugs. What would you do with this anyway? It’s too late: the seals are broken. Where can you go? What can you do? Even if you made it back to th
e surface, the world you know will have ceased to exist. You are not even specks of dust compared to the Old Ones. They have slumbered below the earth and between the slim sheets of reality for nearly as long as this tiny world has existed. They have dined on the massive saurians, the megafauna, and billions of other forms of life who rose to believe they were the rulers of the surface domain.” Drummond’s face was contemptuous. “You are but caretakers, squatters, until the time is right for the Great Cthulhu – and that time is now.”

  He stepped to the side. “Show them, Father. Show them the true face of beauty.”

  Beside him, there came the bubbling viscose sound again, and finally the cowled figure reached up and pulled back the cloth.

  Matt heard Adira draw in a breath at the revelation of the creature’s form. It was the first time he had ever heard the woman issue even the tiniest sound of trepidation.

  Drummond looked over his shoulder, and then back to Matt, Adira and Abrams. His eyes shone with a manic love. “I’m so rude; of course you haven’t been formally introduced. I’d like you all to meet the first Father of us all.” He clasped his hands together like a teenager meeting a pop star, and he beamed up at the thing.

  An octopus, Matt thought. The creature defied reality. It gave the impression of being bipedal with a vaguely humanoid shape, but now that Matt looked closely, he couldn’t actually see where the feet touched the ground, or if there were feet at all. As he stared, the thing actually looked embedded into the dark sand as if it grew up out of it. Upon its shoulders, there sat a bulbous, pulsating sack with two lidless, yellow eyes that stared dispassionately at the three of them. There was no nose: just a couple of slits for air holes. Below that, the real madness began, with a nest of tendrils and suckered tentacles that writhed and squirmed. In among the coiling mess, there was a dark hole that opened wide.

  “Behold the beauty of our kingdom. You will serve us as Shoggoth or your meat will be our food.” It lifted an arm, and at first Matt thought it was going to point back along the way they had come, but instead, the dripping paddle-shaped hand extended long slimy fingers. To his horror, the fingers kept coming, shooting forward, splitting in two, and two again, then thickening to become branches. The first dark branch scooped up their guns and flung them away toward the rock face. Then the other appendages came for Matt.