User:Mhaille/The Great Aristocratic Old Ones
In eons past there lived a strange and savage Monk. Long he endured and far did he travel, into many unknown lands, his dark eyes witness to all manner of arcane ritual and mysteries. For nine hundred years did he wander, til the forgotten runes that covered the brown parchment of his features and his body began to fade. His once exquisite robes, silks from the Lords of Distant Lands now little more than dirt covered rags, more filthy than the lowliest beggar. But he cared not for such matters, there remained only the quest. Nothing more.
Nine hundred years did the Monk search out the hidden paths throughout the world. His dark eyes saw mighty empires rise and fall, the symbols of their power reduced to dust. Kingdoms came and went. Only the quest remained. Leading ever onward.
The desires of Gods and Men lead to dark horrors, and the Monk would bear witness to some of the greatest depravities of the ages. The untold horror that he viewed over that time remained etched upon the remnants of his soul, but the secret histories would recount of one day beyond all others, the day in which his quest was fulfilled.
Nine long years it took for him to regain the smallest part of his sanity and to return to the Monastery that he left so many years before. Nine long years since the events of that day. As he made his way up the craggy rock footpath upon that desolate mountain the bells began to sound within the Monastery, welcoming his approach, on the day that was foretold. The sons, the grandsons and the descendants of his former companions greeted him solemnly, and led him into the great hall. Time had ruined parts of the structure but much remained familiar to him. For a moment it brought an ease to his heart. The remaining monks gathered and the Monk began to speak.
"I bore witness to such sights that would break the mind of most men without our training, but some were almost too much for me to bear. My travels took me to the City of Rhom, where the Men-Priest would preform their annual buggering festival lasting for seventy-two days and nights. Under the auspices of the Head-Priest they would begin by taking in the male children of the city, with a preference for the youngest and virginal, but as the festival continued would include females, old people, animals, expanding into the surrounding lands, until turning on each other. The festival would conclude with the Great Buggering Rite in which all the Men-Priest would take turns in buggering the Head-Priest until he died of internal hemorrhaging. A new Head-Priest would be chosen for the following year."
"Years later on the Island of the Angs I was present at a fertility rite to the Lords of the Underworld which involved twenty-seven great hounds, a giant with stumps for hands and a large black horse of nine summers. The look of spiritual ecstasy on those young maiden's faces will remain me forever."
The Monk paused and looked around his audience. "Finally, after so many years of searching I witnessed the event which had so long been foretold. It was in the year of the Great Famine, when the drought that had left the land barren and parched saw people migrating to other lands and kingdoms in search of food for their empty bellies. War and conflict followed close behind as those with sought to protect what they held from those without. Blood flowed and evil became common amongst men. The thin veneer of civilisation, that great facade upon the world finally gave way and eyes and minds and deeds turned to the darkness within. Borders moved and changed, placenames were lost and forgotten, so that no map may allow a traveler to know whence they came nor where they were. And that is how I found that hidden location, a long road through rough hills that suddenly dropped down into a circular hollow. As the sun was setting I stood at the end of the road looking down at the assembled priesthood of the Old Ones."
"Their language was unknown to me, their words and gestures without meaning, so I cannot tell of what I heard other than that it chilled my heart. For a moment I was transfixed, before fear overwhelmed me and I sought out a hiding place alongside the road looking down onto the scene. The blood rites continued long after the sun had set, and the cold began to gnaw upon my bones. Animals and men were sacrificed, mutilated and abused in so many unspeakable ways until the entire floor of the pit ran red with blood, lit by the many fires and torches. It was a moment before I became aware that the priesthood had fallen silent and were staring upwards towards the nightsky. I worried that I had been seen but realised they were looking towards a central point above their heads. Suddenly, with a tearing sound a huge crack appeared in the air, dark light flickering along its edges. I tilted my head to make sense of what it was, before understanding it to be a door between our world and another."
"I watched with a mixture of rising horror and increasing excitement as dark shapes began to emerge from the fissure. Hideous creatures, their undulating bodies seamlessly changing from solid flesh to gas to liquid and back, endlessly folding into reality. Moving silently towards the prone figures of the thirteen neophytes I strained to make out the protoplasmic globules with the appearance of great eyes that formed on the surface of their skin. From beneath their bodies sinewy tendrils emerged, spiked with barbs. From my hiding place I viewed the appendages searching out and touching the horrified faces of the neophytes, probing, pushing into nostrils, ears and mouths. The neophytes shook as hooks tore into flesh, pushing deeper, further into their bodies. They were shaking like a child's rag doll as these creatures loomed over them, globular eyes silently observing each movement. With a sudden explosion of blood and guts they ripped their tendrils back turning the neophytes inside out, raw pink and red flesh, white and yellowed bone."
"The fissure crackled and grew larger, revealing strange and unknown stars. With each pulse the tear increased in size and the lights of the fires and torches dimmed. A deathly unnatural silence descended on the scene as I struggled to see into darkness. As I stared by eyes were suddenly drawn back along the road I had travelled to a single lamp moving towards the clearing. It seemed to take an age before I was able to discern the huddled figures of a family, refugees attempting to flee the war in the east. The father led the way, lighting the path with his lamp, followed by the mother, his son and daughter. Behind them, wagging it's eager tail, came a small dog. For a moment I silently laughed, forgetting the horror I had just witnessed. The moment passed."
"Unaware of the scene that would be revealed to them, the family made their way passed my hiding place and descended slowly into the pit. For a while I lost sight of them within the gloom, but then saw their shapes illuminated by a faint green light. The brightness increased until I was drawn to a brilliant green star, dark and terrible, that descended from the fissure. As it reached the ground the light dissipated and the fires and torches began to burn once again. Where the green star had been now stood a tall and beautiful man. Before him, frozen in terror amid a sea of blood, body parts and monstrous creatures stood the family of refugees."
"He spoke in an unknown language but somehow my mind knew that he said the words 'Come child'. The daughter of the family silently approached him, she appeared to be without will as if under a spell. The tall man kissed her on the forehead and whispered something into her ear. After a moments hesitation she turned and walked back towards her family, her face an expressionless mask. I felt from my vantage point that her eyes had a slight green glow to them. On reaching her family she leaned forward and whispered something in her father's ear as he hunched over to hear her words. I shifted my position to be able to see the event better and in doing so noticed that her hand had crept beneath his tattered robes. The man remained in a hunched position but seemed initially unable to move. With a flick of her wrist his daughter swept to one side his robes revealing his swollen member, gorged and red in her tight fist. His eyes were wide and he began to trust his hips in time to some internal rhythm."
"The mother of the family spoke but was silenced with a glance from her daughter, no sound could be heard but for the heavy breathing of the father, his prick was now the purple of the robes of the Sea People as his daughter jerked it violently. Time passed and the action became more and more extreme, the father began to moan and grunt like a rutting beast. Finally he reached his climax and he splurted out his seed covering both his son and wife. The dog began to yap excitedly and lick it up from their skin and clothing. The father smiled and his eyes too glowed green. Again the mother attempted to speak but the daughter having released her grip on her father's cock reached across and taking her head whispered in her mother's ear. Without another word the mother removed her ragged clothing and discarded them, standing naked before all. She leaned and began to cover herself with the blood and torn flesh until she was red from head to foot. Taking a thick wooden torch from a stand she thrust it into her womanly parts, extinguishing the flame with her own flesh. Throwing herself backwards against the altar stone she continued to push the torch further and further into herself a look of wild abandonment on her face. The father smiled and standing atop the altar lowered himself over her face, his still limp prick slapping her. Pushing down he began to empty his bowels into her waiting and eager mouth.
"The daughter swept across to where he brother sat, his eyes wide at the spectacle before him. She kissed him on the lips and whispered into his ear. Casting aside his clothing, he picked up two body parts from the bloody mess at his feet, a matching pair of arms. Bending the outstretched fingers over into a fist he dipped both into the blood before pushing one into his fathers rectum and the other into his mothers. His green glowing eyes flickered with energy as he thrust in and out, deeper and deep, in no time at all reaching the elbow before shifting position to push the entirety of the arms into his parents. Soon his own arms holding the limbs were buried in his parents up to the shoulder. His sister crouched behind him and flicked her tongue in and out of his anus and she stretched his member in her vice-like grip."
"The father now erect again jumped down from the altar and inserted his length into his daughter, stabbing wildly into each available orifice. The mother, her face still caked in blood and excrement pulled the splintered torch out of her decimated cunt, thick red blood running down the inside of her thighs. With a laugh she grabbed hold of the yapping dog and inserted it whole into her gaping hole. I continued to watch each new and depraved act and my own excitement rose. By the time I'd witnessed the son pushing his head into his mother's vagina, the sound of her pelvic bone shattering, whilst the father mopped up splooge and shit from his daughter's ass and cunt using the dead remains of the dog before shoving the whole thing down her throat, I wondered if I could find a more sublime sense of spiritual and sexual bliss. But that was before the Bhole-worms arrived, those huge, slimy monstrosities, followed by those unspeakable and unnameable horrors from the cold depths of hell. There are no words to describe that which I witnessed next...."
His voice broke off for a while and silence filled the Monastery Hall. The Monk closed his eyes as if trying to both recall and to blot out the memories at the same time.
Finally a small voice spoke up from the back of the Hall, a novice monk not yet fully trained, "But who, h-h-h-who were they?"
The Monk's eyes flickered open, shining with a verdant glow, and he smiled a smile that was somehow beautiful and profane at the same moment. "That's simple, my child," and his smile grew until it unnerved all who could view it, "They are the Great Aristocratic Old Ones...."