The Emerald Eyes

         I will not try to make you believe me. To wholly believe any of what I am about to tell you, would be impossible. I myself hardly believe what I have seen. The depths that this... discovery, this meeting, have reached, their ice cold grasp upon my soul, will never be seen by any light, they have become tainted by a darkness unsustainable and invisible to mere mortals.

         It began by mere accident; I was only out for the day, wandering the woods behind my ancestral home. As a child I had been endlessly fascinated by those woods, the depth of them, the verdant green prisms of light that filtered through the canopy, the creatures that inhabited it. My only restriction as a child was to stay away during twilight. Full darkness, pure daylight, and crisp dawn, I was allowed to explore to my heart's content. But before twilight, my dear mother, God rest her soul, would call me in, with lures of food, fun, or anything else to spark my fancy. She was careful. She was thoughtful. Protective of me, from darkness even she did not comprehend. Though had she told me before her passing, of the horror of that wooded lair, I would not be writing this. I would not have looked into the Eyes of those woods, and I would have never needed to blink.

         But she did not. And thus, in my naive state, upon my return, I began an inspection of the lands, from which I had been absent, during my timely education at the College. Being this, the first week of my stay, and the week of my mother's funeral, I had decided to roam the grounds, which inevitably brought me to the familiar trail, which led to the woods. Upon entering, being this about mid day, I felt myself at ease, at peace with the lands and world around me. The familiar feeling of a silent peace, an omnipresent watcher, enormous in its scope, came upon me, and as I had been enthralled once as a child, I was once enthralled again. Each leaf, each crack of a twig, buzz of an insect, or song of a lark, brought with it feelings of contentment and amazement, for this lush land through which I traveled.

         As I walked, my watching of the time grew lazy, a trait I have had for some time now, and which had been a pox whilst at the College. Though upon normal circumstances I would eventually check the silver plated watch that sat upon my wrist, this time I never did. Its gentle noise never rose above the woods, never sparking my attention. This nearly doomed my wandering self. As I continued ever deeper, following a path which seemed both wholly unfamiliar, and incredibly inviting, the sounds of nature around me slowly morphed into the sound of a song. A song for which I knew not the words, nor was I able to interpret what exact instruments, but the same effect it had, as a piece of Beethoven upon a concert goer, drawing me forward, comforting me in a familiar feeling of knowledge and excitement.

         I continued on, eventually reaching a fork upon my path, which heretofore I had never met. I dug through my trouser pocket, and removed my Lancer's Pen from College. As the tip was light, I knew it would land, when flipped correctly, randomly to my left or right, and being that it was sturdy, I tossed it, deciding upon whichever direction the tip pointed to be my path. And so I did just that, and the Pen led me on the right side of the path, which I realize now was the wholly wrong decision. Gathering my Pen, I made my way with haste, my mind growing anxious, hurried, excited, though for reasons I could not comprehend. Continuing on, I began noticing the foliage surrounding me taking on a darker pallor that vibrant shade of leaves, simply surrendering to a deeper, churning green, vibrant in itself, yet pallid and resentful, and the sounds of life fading with every step. Had I been concentrating harder, these things would have alarmed me, would have conveyed to me the dire area I was about to enter.

         The path I was on gradually widened out, the ground changing from that of packed and trodden trail, into that of a maintained dirt road. Feeling compelled by this road which I had never observed before, I continued on, without noticing the lengthening day. The canopy stretched above me, late sunlight drifting through its ceiling, creating kaleidoscope patterns where my feet trod. Ahead of me I could see the beginnings of what looked to be an ancient structure of some sort, time washed stones arranged in block patterns, a ditch where once a foundation rested. Further on, the road itself eventually turned into a brick paved lane, the bricks themselves, were falling apart, crumbling with age and erosion. On the sides of this road, rose a small wall, only a foot wide, and perhaps three feet tall at its highest point. This too, was in disrepair, certain parts crumbling, missing entirely, or smashed beyond recognition. Despite a small voice in the back of my mind trying to scream and grab my attention, I continued on, in a bleak stupor, lured forward by the song.

         Eventually, this road ran out, and I found myself at the entrance to what must have at one point been some temple of a sort. I grew perplexed, as I had never heard from anyone around of some large ruins residing on this property. In fact, I had never gone this far in the woods, I realized. Coming slightly to my senses, I checked my watch, and realized I had been walking for a good five hours, landing me at this strange place, directly at twilight. A chill ran thick in my bones, as my mother's warning words echoed in my head. Unfortunately, I just pushed them out, considering what I had always been told as a wives tale, a concoction to mess with a young child's brain. Being the scholarly fellow I was, and needing answers to what had brought me here, and to where I actually was, I entered the strange building.

         The roof had caved in, that was readily apparent, with its remains scattered about the floor. Time had done this place no justice, the westerly wall was gaping with a hole, while the other walls looked as though they were also ready to fall apart. Picking my way through the ruins, I noticed what appeared to be a slab, laid with care, upon the floor. Realizing that such a perfect placement, of such a large stone, was quite impossible if it had fallen from the roof, I resolved to determine its use, as an altar in a bygone era, or perhaps a door, sealing a hidden chamber beneath. Scrambling around, I managed to get a firm grip on its side. Hereupon, let me describe you this stone. Its dimensions were as thus, roughly the same length of a fully grown man, its width about half that, and its thickness no more than half a foot. Although it looked to be solid stone, when I found purchase and pushed it with my feet, I found it to actually be quite light. In a matter of only a few harsh pushes, I'd completely moved the stone away, and revealed what looked like a staircase leading into some chamber beneath.

         Deciding that I may never find this place again, I found a large stick, and removed my cheap outer coat, of which I had many, and doused it with high proof moonshine from my pocket flask. Knowing that this would not last forever, I resolved to explore and leave before I was forced to find my way in utter darkness. Exactly what compelled me to stay, and not wait until better light, could only have been the... thing beneath it. Had I been thinking properly, I would have realized that so long as I followed the same path, I would be able to explore this place at my leisure. Alas, I instead remained. Lighting the makeshift torch with my lighter, which I regrettably left behind, I made my way down the ancient stone steps, into the musky and chilled area beneath.

         The steps descended, at an uneven pace, they protruded far too long for someone of my size to proceed easily. Whatever these steps had been made for, had a much longer gait than a human, and more than likely was quite taller, as the ceiling of this staircase was eventually lost beyond my torches glare. I continued descending, counting the stairs for a while, and then giving up on that endeavor entirely as I miscounted or repeated the steps. After what felt like ages, but according to my trusty watch, was only a matter of minutes, I reached the bottom of the stairs.

         The torch light revealed a high ceilinged passageway, around six feet wide, with strange markings papering the walls. I moved my torch nearer them to make out what these markings were, but could not determine if they were a form of writing, or just pictures made by ancient hands. They depicted various creatures, some looking like amassed snakes, coiling in upon themselves, with large eyes protruding over gaping mouths, with thorns for scales. Another depicted a large creature rising from the sea, with the head of an octopus, massive talons for fingers, a huge frame, bat like, yet skeletal. The most striking of these depictions was of the coiled creature, doing what I assumed to be battle with the sea creature. They were locked into one another, fighting tooth and... Tentacle. Others were of things I cannot describe, their complexity and horror too much to describe in simple human words. I was chilled to the bone by these depictions, yet continued on down the passageway, that singular song reverberating through my mind again, drawing me closer like a fish on a hook. Looking back, that's exactly what I was. A lonely fish lured in by the lush surrounding, reeled in beneath this monstrous citadel to these... creatures, caught on one of their hooks.

         I continued on, deeper into this place, continually wondering how something of this size had remained hidden all these years, how something so monstrously large has been untouched by science in this exploratory age. I reached a fork in the passage, and decided once again to trust my Pen to direct me onto the right path. Repeating what I had done earlier, the Pen led me onto the right fork. As I continued, I began to notice a breeze, light at first, but the farther I went the more noticeable it became, a flow of cool air, low in the passageway, running back towards from whence I came. I continued on, the flames flickering in the light breeze, my breath calm and steady, my footing solid. In the distance I noticed what looked to be a doorway, and as I reached it, my assumption was confirmed. Something had once stood in for a door, as hinges marred the sides, by gone locks of a bygone era, were lying off to the side.

         Stooping to examine the locks, I was struck by the sheer enoTrmity of them. They would have been inset between two doors, keeping the door from opening outward, towards the hall. The first lock was the size of my skull, with eight prongs evenly spaced on its edges, with a large keyhole in the center. The second lock was much the same, yet instead of a keyhole, a large eye, glistening with an Emerald stone for its iris, decorated this lock. I was mesmerized by the eye; it looked almost real, despite its weathered age, and small crack in the stone. Stepping up, I continued into the room, which seemed to open out into a spacious area, though my torch cast no light at its edges. Pillars, which I assumed supported the room from the collapsing weight of the earth above us. Around six feet high on each pillar, was a sconce for torches, and to my amazement, a torch was there. Realizing my luck, I quickly tipped my torch to the first one, which plumed into a hot, white fire. Moving to the other pillars, which roughly formed a square with dimensions I did not calculate, I quickly had a well-lit area from which to view my surroundings.

         The ceiling was still incredibly tall, hidden from the light, the edges of the room were out of my sight, but before me I saw yet again that eye. It was set into what I can only compare to, as a professors podium. The eye was set upon the top, which was slanted in my direction. I neared it, and that distant song once again caught my ear. But this time, it sounded less like the harmonious music it had been before, and more like a voice, calling out. I spooked myself, and began imagining monsters and the like hiding in the shadows around me. I placed my hands upon this podium, and cleared the years of dust from its face. Using the remains of my torch, and the ambient light from the ones I had lit, I could see marks upon the face of it, set in amongst and beside the eye in the center. At first I could hardly make out the letters, but after adjusting my eyes to the surface, I could read them.

         The words were almost an offshoot of Latin, which I had compulsorily studied in college, much to the chagrin of my French relatives. I'll rewrite here, what I had read there. But heed me! DO NOT, absolutely do not, read these out loud! Read them if you will, write them down for reference, but do not read them out loud.


         Bsetia of wodo, qoud mtrais of viirdis, ciuus eeys vrerimmus cpresuuculm per uqmaum grunas pseretina, nos, secuutus spuurem of Vteus, ooperr lcioer vos adurie nos. Vos es scustitiao, adiuums vsitre cmeran, vsitre vox vcios, is dcio niobs in smouns, nos ekvoe vos. Psuserimm nos amidanrevto vsitre visio, vsitre Oculus, quod psuserimm nos to oedrr ut mriats, quod pius fliius.


         I will not translate this; I'll leave that up to you. I've warned you, and may God have mercy upon you if you do not listen to me. Being the scholar I was, I worked those words out loud, while translating them. When I'd finished, I had placed my hand upon the eye, which lay in the middle, in order to lean and ponder what I'd heard. Unfortunately, that had sealed my fate.

         Upon my finishing of the incantation, for that is what I believe it to have been, the eye beneath my hand flared, surging with a heat I had only experienced while manning my family's fire pits. My palm was directly upon the eye, and it felt as though my palm had been melted to the eye, I could no more move it as I could move the orbit of the earth. During this time, I took to screaming quite loudly, my surprise and pain melding together. After what seemed like hours, but was surely only seconds, the pain left, and I was only left with its memory. My palm no more hurt now, that it had before I'd touched the eye. The air around me was still, the echoes of my scream had faded, only to be replaced with a silence more perfect than anything I have heard before or since. This slowly gave way to the song, this time I was sure that it was a voice, talking to me, calling for something, for someone.

         It was at this point that I began losing my sight, or at least I lost the sight of this realm. What happened next will haunt me for the rest of my life, every time I close my eyes or sleep, every time I look into a new place, I will restlessly search for it... The eyes were most striking. The creature I had seen chiseled into the walls along the earlier passageway, this... Thing, was approaching, out of the recesses of my mind. It was not actually with me, not physically at least, but my mind provided a viewing room, and the passageway was through the stone pillar and my hand. How this thing looked, defies any rational description. I can only tell you that the closest approximation is what was drawn upon those passageways. It loomed toward me, this... horror, this beast, this writhing mass of earth and flesh, thousands of coiling tentacles, arms, or what have you, intertwined upon themselves, like so many snakes mating. Upon these arms were thorny protrusions, and near each one were its Emerald eyes', cutting into my soul, its presence causing all my wildest fears, things which I had once laid to rest, to come flying back, I felt both awe and abject dejection, horror and amazement, at this wondrous, stupendous, horrific, and detestable... thing. It grew in size, coming closer and closer, it dwarfed me completely, and I'm sure that if lined up to the towers of a great city, this thing would make them look like toothpicks. It looked down upon me, with its Eyes, calling out with its voice, repulsive and attractive, and I could not help but keep stare at this... God. For that was what it was, a God, from a bygone time, when humans had just learned of the veil beyond, and had tried to make contact with these Gods, to make Faustian deals for power and glory, while the men themselves were used as pawns to footholds back into our world.

         It kept nearing me, getting closer and closer, and I could only stare into its many eyes, while its voice rang around me. After what felt like ages, my entire body nearly convulsed, as the God finally stopped growing in size. At that moment, I felt such an intense fear for my life, for everything I held dear, that for the first time since it had appeared, I blinked, and in that time period, not even a second; I could feel such an intense hatred arise from it, such a fetid collection of anger and putrid loathsomeness. When I opened my eyes, my hand was no longer secured to the eye, and the God had left, which left me feeling so relieved, that when I finally released my pent up breath I nearly collapsed. Wasting no time I left the chamber, not bothering to collect a new torch, not bothering to think or process what I had just seen.

         I'm not sure how much time passed, or exactly how I made my way back, but the next thing I remember was waking up in my bed, in my home, my clothes haphazardly tossed to the floor, my body still sweating. After checking with the servants, I found out that they had heard a baleful screaming coming from the woods, and had been outside by the time I had come running out towards them. They had calmed me enough to slip me some whiskey, and lay me down. The whiskey did not help. I was unfocused, marred with the memory of those damned eyes. According to them, I had fought against them, screaming in a language I had never uttered before, and never uttered since. At some point one of them decided to lay into me, to force me into unconsciousness.

         For the rest of that week, including the meeting with my mother's legal counsel, and the review of her will, which left the estate to me, including those accursed woods, is faint in my mind, as though viewed through a cloudy and scratched pair of glasses. That time in the woods, in that temple of unholy sacrifice and worship, shall never dull. The memory is as clear as though it had happened just an hour ago. My only comfort is the feelings of ominous hatred, and hallowed divinity, have left me. I find myself incredulous at the events, as though they were a crisp dream that I remember more than life. I thank God for that. Nor have I forgotten how at the last second of safety, I had blinked, preventing the creature from fulfilling its purpose, or perhaps I had stopped myself from fulfilling mine. That feeling of hate, that feeling of anger, and terror, and horror, will well up occasionally, and I awake from nightmares with no recollection of what I had seen, all except for one thing. I will never forget those eyes, that brilliant emerald depth of them, the awesome magnitude of them, and the creature that was tethered to them. I will remain haunted for the rest of my life.

         I know you are probably incredulous right now, but given what you have read, that is alright. Take this as you will. I, however, must leave you now. The hour grows near twilight, and on some nights... On some nights I can still hear that song... And see those Emerald Eyes.


DO NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT, REVIEW THIS IN 500 CHARACTERS JUST FOR GP'S.
I NEED ACTUAL CRITICISM.
NOT SOMEBODY MAKING AN ASS OF THEMSELVE