So, kid, you’ve got quite the hangover, eh? Your guts are on fire, right? As if they were eating you from within, as if a pernicious evil emptied you of your strength? That’s why you look like a skeleton, old friend. You’ve only got skin on your bones and, behind your eyes, one can see death dance … you’re not far from the end. I know something about it; you can well imagine! I know that’s me, too … ‘Cancer of the intestine,’ that’s what they say! No cure! It only remains to die slowly ….
Oh, no! Let’s change a little! Obviously, lad, you and the cats, that’s not joy! Vengeance is a plate that’s served cold. These charming animals will look after you. You know, they have a wisdom of many centuries. They were present at the Pharaohs’ sides when the last ones ruled over rich Egypt. Remember Ulthar! They will repast on your flesh! They will make a feast of your entrails. They will delight in your eyes. They will clean your bones until they are as white as ivory ….
Stop it! Change the scene! Lad, here you are now in a good old trench! Ah, listen! It’s the signal to attack! Fix bayonets! You must bring the hill to the enemy! Cannon thunder, balls whistle, shells burst in a marvelous cacophony. Gas alarm! You must put on this devilish mask that makes it difficult to breathe! You have just enough time to see that the sky is grey and as low as if in Hell! Your comrades fall like flies. Some call for their mothers; others hold their entrails in their hands. Are you afraid? You see the one there who is bawling like a baby? And yes! That’s good old Bob the Giant! He’s lost an arm. And wham! This time, it’s for you! Excruciating pain twists your leg. Unbearable, no? A piece of shrapnel tears into your knee.
Accompanied by one of the guides, with whom I has struck up a friendship, I entered a large room located in the cellar of one of the ruined temples. The place had been plunged into shadow and, in order for us to see, we had to burn torches. And there, we were surprised to see our shadows dance on a myriad of multicoloured frescoes! We observed them for a while and the things they represented terrified us. These frescoes evoked pagan scenes with winged monsters, resembling griffons or dragons. Obviously, these creatures of Satan came here to be offered human sacrifices. A diabolical rite of black magic, I don’t know what it was, but I was afraid and crossed myself, repeatedly kissing the crucifix that hung around my neck. In observing attentively every detail of these paintings, my guide fell into a kind of prayer that had been burned several times in these walls. My companion informed me that he was able to decipher the sounds and began to recite the evil verses in a monotone. Evil took him; let God forgive him! I do not know what, exactly, these words triggered, but outside, a great evil befell our men. An odour sharp and mephitic then invaded the atmosphere outside and it seemed that a battle raged. Human cries mixed with the growls of infernal creatures.
The monsters. The monsters had been awakened and massacred my companions to the last man. Paralyzed, the guide and I hid in our hole, praying to escape the griffons and demons.
I lack the words to describe what I heard and even now, my old age does not give me any more courage. Even today, I am still terrified. Even though the inhuman uproar lasted only a few moments.
Many hours later, we made the decision to come out and we discovered that our companions, without exception, had been killed. Their bodies, atrociously mutilated, littered the ground in the middle of immense pools of blood. It was obvious: we were the only two left, the guide and I, in the middle of those accursed ruins. Therefore, we decided to leave that malefic place, to rejoin the civilized world and forget these events.
By the Grace of God, may He be praised, Him and His Most Blessed Mother, we came back to civilization. But being hunted by these baleful memories was not easy. That is why, sometime later, I resigned myself to return for good to our dear Spain. And is there, in my city of Cáceres, that I decided humbly to end my days. Without ever speaking to anyone about this singular adventure.
For my greater sorrow, the words of that satanic prayer remain engraved on my spirit, and I do not know by what witchcraft I could ever get rid of it. So, I have reproduced it verbatim at the bottom of this manuscript. A way to exorcize my anguish. I have never tried to verify if the formula was correct, but I invite those who read my work to greater prudence.
God help you!
My house is in a pitiable state. As if an orangutan had passed through here. Traces of blood maculate my floor. What happened? I find … I search my memories, but … I don’t remember anything … I go outside … There is a cat prowling … I walk straight ahead, without aim …
All is blurred inside my head ... A fog thicker than the London smog … the void … I remember almost nothing. Only images, of which others tell me nothing that helps. Scattered dots, with no lines between them.
It’s the interior chaos. I’m very afraid that I have a failing memory. Why am I in this bar and how could I have landed here?
Good God. I haven’t the faintest idea!
And these men who fix me with an evil eye … I must look awful to get such glances … What could have happened?
Wait … something’s coming back … his head tells me something … I have the impression that he knows me … and … and me him, also, apparently … he’s motioning to me with his hand … one could say that he’s inviting me to sit at his table ….
Meddy Ligner was born in 1974 in Bressuire, a small town in the western part of France. He spent his first 18 years there. He goes back frequently to see his family and to play baseball with the famous Garocheurs. He studied history and afterwards, he taught French abroad in Finland, Russia and China. Since 2003, he has worked as a teacher of history and geography in Poitiers, France, where he lives with his wife, his daughter and his son. His website is: http://meddyligner.blogspot.com
The author speaks: “I discovered Lovecraft late, thanks to one of my roommates during military service. According to him, it was very good. So, I followed his advice and I started with “The Call of Cthulhu”. I liked it and I read other stories. My favourite one is “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward”.
Lovecraft fascinated me through his stories, his mythology, his gods coming from the dawn of time. This whole cosmology is very thrilling. Furthermore, the personality of HPL is mysterious: a hermit living isolated, surrounded by books. He is a kind of accursed writer (Alive, he had no success) and a guru for several generations of authors.
I did not want to write a linear story. I am interested in narrative techniques and I tried to experiment with this text.
Table of Contents
Historical Lovecraft: Tales of Horror Through Time
Table of Contents
Introduction
Ancient History
The God Lurking in Stone
The Seeder From the Stars
Deus ex Machina
If Only to Taste Her Again
Shadows of the Darkest Jade
The Chronicle of Aliyat Son of Aliyat
Middle Ages
Silently, Without Cease
The Good Bishop Pays the Price
The Saga of Hilde Ansgardóttir
An Interrupted Sacrifice
Pralaya: The Disaster
The City of Ropes
Modern Era
Inquisitor
The Far Deep
City of Witches
Ahuizotl
An Idol for Emiko
The Infernal History of the Ivybridge Twins
Black Leaves
The Second Theft of Alhazred’s Manuscript
Ngiri’s Catch
What Hides and What Returns
Black Hill
Amundsen’s Last Run
Red Star, Yellow Sign
Found in a Trunk from Extremadura
friends
Historical Lovecraft: Tales of Horror Through Time Page 34