2 - Medusa -Part One
Medusa - Part One
"I felt myself on the edge of the world; peering over the rim into a fathomless chaos of eternal night."
~ H. P. Lovecraft
MY INTRODUCTION TO STEELE'S MANUSCRIPT. ~HS
This was written after what John Steele refers to as 'the occurrence' where he suffered a mental attack from a Chthonic entity. Apparently, John created this record of events during 'The brief period of lucidity' referred to by Dr. West. John penned a few entries in the past tense, most probably when he was lucid and remembered things correctly as previously occurring events.
John scripted most of his entries in the present tense, almost as if he was somehow stuck in that actual moment in time. Did he draft these pieces when he was in the 'fugue' state of mind? Or, after experiencing a 'complete psychotic break?'
~ H. Silberhutte
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From the personal journals of Professor Silberhutte:
"John Steele's battle with the Eternal Prisoner, which I have named Medusa, marks our first encounter with one of their kind. In our ongoing war with the Elder Gods of Chaos, it may become the first of many such conflicts. To defeat these once-human demons, I fear it will become a life-long campaign."
~ H. Silberhutte
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Fragment # One of John Steele's text:
Everything has changed since my last visit to my special museum in Arkham, which was so strange and frightening. There is no longer normal, no boundaries, no restrictions; it is all simply chaos. She has not permitted me to sleep the entire night since that horrific day.
Every night, I awake screaming, trembling, perspiring, shaking like a leaf in the wind. The nightmare of that day's events, of her presence, is relentlessly identical. It is akin to a bizarre video, permanently looping, over and over, entrenched in my fevered brain.
I don't know how much longer I can endure it. If I can't break this circle of madness soon... I'm petrified of what I must do to make this end!
I am experiencing an identical, vivid, terrifying nightmare every single night. In this lurid vision, a prisoner turns the tables on her captors by transforming herself into something 'else.' She accomplishes this transformation with help from those she calls The Old Ones.
In return, she had to pay a terrible price. Be forewarned if you read their names aloud. For these ancient names still hold much power!
~ J. Steele
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Fragment # Two of John Steele's text:
The ill-fated museum expedition began like all the others. Choosing the identical, familiar turns, I unexpectedly discovered myself in a completely unfamiliar section. How could this be? My special museum was as familiar to me as my own home.
Am I lost?
It just wasn't possible. At first, the murky room appeared empty; wait... A dark, human figure is towards the very back of the unfamiliar room.
Was it a room? Or was it... * Fragment # Two is untranslatable from this point forward* ~ H.S.
~ J. Steele
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Fragment # Three of John Steele's text:
The first feature of the sculpture to appear in my focus is a hard woman's face with a wide, gaping mouth. A human couldn't possibly stretch their mouth open that wide, could they? The snarling mouth is the deepest of ebony.
Are those teeth?
Teeth that are long, piercing, sharp fangs? Her face looks angry, permeated with hate. I can perceive her upper torso now, her arms and breasts almost entirely covered with ancient hieroglyphics and glyphs. I can recognize runes from the Egyptian Book of the Dead and older markings from Mesopotamia, Harrapan, Osirian, and others beyond my meager knowledge.
How much I wish my old mentor, Professor Silberhutte, was here. I could use his expertise and his support. I stop my review abruptly because I feel stunned. I recognize one marking as the symbol of the Necronomicon!
Oh my God! What is that?
What a strange shape she is. Below her waist, she doesn't have skin—at least, not normal human-looking skin.
What is she, exactly?
Dark circles of scarves, veils, or scales? The lower part of the carving appears to be circular and coiled. Is it a statue of a woman, an animal, or part of both? It is so lifelike.
Her body is murky and sad, ranging from dark to the darkest blackness—shades of black I have never seen before. She is a shadowy, evil-looking creature.
Why is this corner of the museum so dark?
Such weird colors. What is she made of? Certainly not made of the old common stones. Perhaps some one-of-a-kind multi-colored obsidian?
Where is the museum's standard bronze name plaque to explain this thing? What is her history? What is her origin?
~ J. Steele
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Fragment # Four of John Steele's text:
I feel almost hypnotized. I find myself compelled to take cautious baby steps closer to her. Why do I feel so drawn to this thing? Wait, I can stop myself now, before... before what?
Before it is too late!
Before an inanimate object does what? Comes to life and bites me?
Don't be a fool, John. I am nobody's coward. I am not about to allow this spooky-looking statue to prevent me from enjoying my museum! I am the regular here!
This object, this thing, is the invader, not me. She exudes an overpowering sense of ancientness. If I touched her, I could determine what they carved her from.
I'm nearer to her now. All I need to do is take a few more steps and reach out. No, I am shuddering at the thought. What if she moves? What if the evil of this thing overcomes me? Can an artifact be evil? Yes, I sense it emanating from this dark, shimmering monster.
Why does she frighten me so much? She is not real. She can't be! I am petrified of one thought. What might happen if I take my eyes off her, even momentarily? Would she attack me? Would she overcome and devour me? What is happening here?
Stop this right now, John! Me, a grown man, an educated man, afraid of a museum sculpture?
I tentatively approach nearer to her. I am obsessed with the thought of an even closer look. Simultaneously, I am feeling apprehensive.
Suddenly, the air that borders the dark, ominous shape bites with an icy coldness. This is incredible! I can see my breath in the chilly air directly before me. I feel frigid, frozen, and fearful. Why am I so frightened? I begin to shiver.
My teeth are clacking madly together. I clench my jaw as tightly as I can. Straining to hold it shut, but to no avail. Then I hear a faint hissing sound. I jump, startled and unnerved.
Where is the sound coming from?
Can it be? Are the strange sounds emitted from the statue itself? I strain, trembling, to hear the soft sounds more plainly.
It takes every ounce of courage I possess. I finally force myself nearer to that gaping mouth-hole. I am practically touching her. I can't seem to curb the trembling contortions of my body. Cold as it is, I can still smell my own sweat. I hear a soft wheezing resonance from deep within the shadowy, ominous mouth-pit.
How can sound spew from the mouth of a statue? It is simply not possible. Perhaps something trapped inside is making these noises? Yes, a rodent. Or a small animal, maybe?
Then I hear the vibrating voice, vomit... "Or-ro-bo-ros." Next, I perceive more reverberations. These sounds echo as if they are away in the far distance. It rings much louder than before, like a multitude of voices. That is chanting in unison. "Or-ro-bo-ros, As-mo-de-us, Nyar-lath-o-tep, Mo-loch, Al-as-tor." The chanting stops abruptly.
~ J. Steele
To be continued...
END
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