Chapter 1: Horror From Hatsume
Summary:
Aya’s article on the ‘Horror From Hatsume’ was not warmly received at the time of its publication. Readers dismissed the article as just another of Aya Shameimaru’s sensational news, too bizarre to be taken seriously. Ironically, out of all her writings, it may have been the most thoroughly researched.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Gensokyo has always been a place of intriguing nature. Its wildlife, diverse, filled with both the natural and supernatural alike. Most commonly seen are the mischievous fairies or the unknowing youkai that roam the lands outside of the common men. But rarely does one stumble upon something beyond the boundaries of the known that none of both natural or supernatural things considered a part of this universe. Of the blasphemies committed in the region, most sinful was the child that came from Hatsume (発芽) in the far regions of Gensokyo where no wind came, nor did many travelers visit. Outsiders often shun Hatsume for its sparse resources and unwelcoming terrain. The rocks and cliffs that seemed to have escaped from the earth unnaturally and in dissonance; the rounded tips were somewhat of a queer formation while the roads itself were bare and dilapidated from the ignorant denizens that, though spread out, still lived within the old town through forced inbreeding between one another to keep the bloodline running; regardless of how dirty it became.
The most popular story that came from Hatsume was known as the "Horror From Hatsume", a folklore to many, but the truth to few. To brief on what the story was like, it went like so:
In an unstated century, a mother whose name was Kuronome Hibisuke gave birth to twin brothers. One which she called Adachi Hibisuke, and the other she did not name for his appearance was so gruesome and revolting that the latter would be put inside of a barn where he was fed properly but never shown to the world outside. No one knew who the father was as Kuronome was a widow. Many suspected that the mother remarried, but no man was seen around the house but young Adachi Hibisuke. As a child, Adachi was subjected to his family lineage and the worshiping of a specific entity who was referred as “Ōmagatoki”, although it was never identified whether the thing was youkai or kami. After years of living in Hatsume, it is said Adachi left his hometown in search of his family heirloom, a book of the dead which contained all sorts of advanced spells that not even the most powerful of witches or wizards could fully comprehend. His goal? To summon his father to the realm, his true father. But now, Adachi’s whereabouts remain a mystery. Some claim he exists but remained in a place where no one could see him for who he is, but the consensus was the bastard son was only a coined character for a fairytale to scare the children and teach them about the dangers of Gensokyo.
But perhaps the story was true to an extent. It first came to attention when the fairy Daiyousei approached the miko of the Hakurei Shrine, Reimu, about the matter. She claimed her friend, Cirno, the ice fairy, has been kidnapped or was ambushed by a creature of the woods that lived relatively close to Hatsume. Reimu didn’t believe the fairy at first since she had more important matters to attend to. But Daiyousei only insisted she check out as the fairy grew worried and weary for her friend. Reluctant, Reimu agreed to tag along to help her find her poor ice fairy friend.
On their way, Daiyousei continued to explain to the maiden what had happened. She told her, “Cirno was full of herself again! She recently heard the tales of the Cursed Child from Hatsume and wanted to see if he really existed!”
Of course things like these were unsurprising to Reimu who knew Cirno well from her many encounters with the fairy, but the tale of the 'Horror From Hatsume' was one which the maiden hadn’t heard since she was a young girl. Reimu never once believed Hatsume was a real place and only believed it to be one created for folklore. So hearing the fairy explaining about the solemn, legendary village came as a surprise to Reimu.
When they continued to push through the regions and as the sun peaked at the zenith, the first signs of Hatsume came. Mountains of unnatural formations, rocks of rough hewn columns sat above the highest peak of the cliffs which was shaped eerily like that of a skull being pierced through cranium. There were no villages nor trees in sight for thirty miles, no ravines or mires, no signs of life but the decaying pastures of grass that was somehow still alive. In the distance, Reimu and Daiyousei spotted the ruined village. Entering, the maiden was struck with disbelief and curiosity as the sight was like nothing she had seen in the past. Most similar she can draw similarity to was like seeing a relic of the old centuries. Houses whose roofs pointed high into the stars, people scattered hap hazardously and stayed behind shut doors and barred windows. No one spoke a word nor drew an audible breath. Indeed the place was silent, deafeningly silent. Atop the center of the hill of Hatsume was that barn where Adachi was said to have been born. As they continued walking through the rugged and uneven landscape, a loud plea for help was heard in the distance coming from that very barn.
“Cirno!” Daiyousei exclaimed, recognizing that voice and scream as her friends. She quickly rushed towards the barn, opting Reimu to try to catch up with the fairy.
Approaching the barn, Reimu saw clearly its aged wooden walls. Crevices of varying sizes littered throughout each plank and paint that has worn from the ages. The roof, once covered in thatch, was left with the bare frames that had begun to fail. As Daiyousei entered the barn with Reimu catching up, another loud, blood curdling scream emitted from within. The maiden slammed the large doors open and witnessed the harrowing sight; Cirno, tied to an altar with inscriptions that was unfamiliar to her composed of stone decorated with carvings of odd entities unfamiliar to her. Daiyousei was captured in the arms of the half-goat, half-man creature whose eyes were a deep yellow hue with pupils sharp like a snake. his body was filled with scales that were sparsely shared across its rotting skin. Teeth, sharp, and had horns that seemed to curve in and leered out on the edge. Reimu couldn’t believe who she saw, it was the fabled Adachi, son of Ōmagatoki.
“Let them go!” Reimu commanded, lifting her hand and pointing at the creature as she took out her gohei. But the thing simply disregarded the maiden’s claims, drawing blood from the second fairy as he carefully let the blood drip onto the book before him. Realizing the beast as unwilling to comply, the Maiden summoned a flurry of bullets and lasers towards him. The beast dodged the attack and pounced on top of the maiden in retaliation, his face more gruesome up close as traces of an abominable surface composed most of his skin, a surface which was filled with pores of varying sizes that made it seem like a surface of a planet. The beast raised his arm and unleashed his claws, Reimu, acting quick, got the beast off of her and set the two fairies free. She closed the book as the creature mumbled, disoriented from the offense, and took it with her as the three of them made their way out of the barn and back into the dreaded landscape.
Yet things didn’t end there. On their way out, nearly miles away from the village. A wailing, bellowing scream pierced their ears. Reimu and the two fairies looked at the skull mountain and saw a monstrous mass of unfathomable shape. Tentacles sprouted on its head while eyes, red as blood, glowed in the distance. The new creatures leaped from the distance and in front of the trio. Reimu remarked in her testimony when I confronted the maiden about what she had seen that fateful night, she described the thing as, “hideously revolting, composed of a viscous substance that reflected the space; drawing it nearly invisible if not for its unjust texture.”
The creature attacked the fairies and Reimu to retake the book. Neither fairies stood back this time and fought fiercely; unleashing furious spells against the creature while Reimu prepared hers in order to banish the thing from the surface of Gensokyo. The creature, although seemingly foreboding and fierce, was in truth weak and frail, like a new-born child. The maiden took advantage of its struggle against Cirno and Daiyousei, stepping back and prepared a barrier spell against the thing. As it stomped and triumphed on the fairies; pinning them to the ground, the creature shifted its attention to the maiden and saw that she had unleashed her attack that hurled towards the beast. The blast nearly decimated the beast, most of its body was charred and blown off with many of its chunks having imbued itself into the fields of Hatsume. Writhing and dying from significant loss of blood from the devastating attack, Reimu approached the beast who only cried towards the stars, “Yog-Sothoth! Yog-Sothoth!” Before the Horror drew his final breath. Something about the beast, according to the maiden, felt more innocent and mindless than his brother Adachi. Perhaps she had regretted killing the beast in such a painful way, but it wasn’t like she had a choice either way.
As to what happened to Adachi? The bastard son was apprehended and bound to never walk again by the maiden shortly after finishing off his brother. The book too was returned to its rightful owner, Patchouli of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, who had claimed a weird figure that strikingly fits Adachi’s appearance did approach on their doorstep a few weeks before. When asked if the librarian knew anything about the Hatsume and the cult which it followed, Patchouli only explained that the village was infinitely older than Gensokyo or perhaps even Japan itself. No historical record determined the age of Hatsume but her own research through carbon dating the rocks in the surrounding area. She also claimed the origins of “Ōmagatoki” in many other ancient text. She said:
“Many times, when people can't make sense of new archaic discoveries, they tend to tie it to the things they’ve known. 'Horror From Hatsume' came from a prolific pulp fiction writer from the 19th century who heard of the stories that occured Hatsume but knew not of the tongue they spoke. Indeed, Ōmagatoki is only a placeholder name for something far older than what we know. It only makes sense to imbue the unknown with the familiar so people may have a clearer understanding of the tale.”
Now, the book sits within the large libraries of the Scarlet Devil Mansion, untouched by either outside or residents. Remilia herself was baffled at how someone as obvious as Adachi had entered the manor without alerting any of her maids and guards but swore that no one else will lay hands on the cursed text, the Necronomicon, as it would be safer being locked away than to fall into the wrong hands again.
To think that many stories out there have been shunned as mere fairytales is a peculiar thought to struggle with. Most will think nothing out of the mundane, but perhaps if one were to look deeper into the mysteries of the world, the abyss will stare right back into them. I write this under the pretense that nothing is as it seems! Horror often comes in the things we cannot see, not what we can.
– Aya Shameimaru
Notes:
An Adaptation of the "Dunwich Horror", I actually took some of the names from Shigeru Mizuki's own adaptation of the classic Lovecraft Tale, "Footsteps from the Depths of the Earth". Obviously this is a more streamlined and simpler version of the original tale, I wrote this entire thing in a night so it may not be the best (╥﹏╥).
Regardless, I am looking forward to seeing how I could adapt some other tales or perhaps write my own if I am bothered enough. Hope you enjoyed!
Chapter 2: De Profundis
Summary:
Marisa finds herself in a realm unfamiliar to her. Walking through the uncharted region where the bizarre rocks rose from the depths of the soil beneath. She wanders aimlessly, whether dream or not, she did not now. But most horrified she'll become one the magician comes face to face with the horrible figure of the sea.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Under the starry nights she roamed. Marisa Kirisame, the ordinary magician, walked in a world unseen where unnatural rock formations rose and twisted from the soil beneath. The magician was oblivious of her whereabouts and was not familiar with the place she now stood. But with nowhere else to go, she could only push forward on the oddly clear path laid out for her.
It took a while until Marisa arrived at a sharp dead end. Below the cliffside she stood on was a vast ocean that went as far as the eye can see. The air was solemn but the coastal breeze was felt brushing against her smooth skin. The magician sat down as she curiously pondered, “where have I gone?”
Then she recalled the day before her arrival to the surreal, alien realm. She remembered visiting the human village earlier that morning to find more spellbooks or grimoires to further deepen her understanding of magic. When the memory resurfaces, she concludes that the illusion must be caused by one of the many books she read. Whether it was a dream, she did not know. Sincerely, Gensokyo has always been beyond logic. So explaining the world must be possible to an extent.
The magician tracked along the edges of the cliffside, hoping to find a semblance of an exit anywhere near. But miles upon miles passed and nothing of the sort unveiled in the foreseeable distance. Lost, Marisa turned around and traced back into the monumental valley and surreal landscape. She walked further and further, the ground beneath her feet grew unsteady while her legs began to quake by second. Exhaustion grew the longer Marisa went, but she was determined to find a way out that she put aside the weariness.
Yet no matter how long she went, the same cliffs and uneven terrain lingered. Each passing mile is the same as the last. Marisa began to think she was going in an endless circle. Eventually, the magician collapsed underneath the pressure she put on herself. Weariness caught up to Marisa Kirisame and in the last waking moments she had, she saw a large creature emerge from the distance. Its body, Polyphemus-like with skin that glistened and reflected the soft landscape glow. Its head was loathsome with some features that were uncannily similar to the common man. Before she could make out finer details, the young magician succumbed and her vision plunged into darkness.
…
Marisa awoke in her bed, the sickness lighter than it had been the night before. She couldn’t quite recall her dream, though a faint unease lingered in her chest. As she sat up, rubbing her eyes, a knock echoed from the front door. She stumbled to answer it, finding Alice Margatroid waiting, arms crossed, behind the door.
“My, and I thought you wouldn't answer,” Alice muttered. "I thought you died in there."
"Heh, nah, I was just sick." Marisa answered the puppeteer’s concerns, assuring Alice that it was mere exhaustion that brought forth the illness.
But Alice's frown didn't ease. "You've been holed up in there for days. I wouldn't visit if it was just for one, but the past few times I've seen you out, you've been doing nothing but hogging more grimoires, tomes, and other magical artifacts! What the hell are you even doing in there?"
Marisa scratched the back of her neck, "I—I'm studying...?" She responded, hesitantly.
Alice sighed, telling Marisa, “Consuming too much knowledge won't give you the answer you wish for, Kirisame. It's a matter of what you want to learn and how to excel at the subject. Dissociated knowledge often leads to confusion about whatever you’re trying to do. Why don't you lay off the books for today?”
“Not a chance,” Marisa refuted bluntly, slamming the door right in front of Alice.
On the other side, Alice exhaled, muttering, "can't say I didn't try," under her breath as she walked away.
Now alone and sitting in her personal studies, which was filled with piles of books stacked around the messy room. Marisa rested her hand on the table and leaned against her fist and looked down at a grimoire named Liber Ivonis. The book, wrapped in leather whose edges were covered with decorative violet metallic substance accents, was filled with miraculous fables intertwined with cryptic rites and steps to perform advanced magic and spells unheard of in the region. Marisa, certain that the Liber Ivonis has something to do with the illness, proceeded with the dream that haunted her the night before and opened the tome in search of what caused her to see that fantastical sight.
As time passed, the magician once again fell asleep. She'd find herself awakening after a murky, vast black mire. Marisa was covered in the strange, gluey substance. She raised herself from the glutinous mud and stepped onto the uneven expanse of land. The skies were a blend of murky green and a blasted, deep violet. Clouds of unfathomable thickness floated idly, while the distance showed mountains of unchartable height, whose ridges rose high above the heavens.
Marisa examined around the space only to see nothing in the distance but the mountains in the north. A brief breeze of air brought the magician to realize that she had been stripped of her clothes, with only the dreaded Liber Ivonis resting next to her foot. Picking up the book, she began to fear with intrigue what baffling world it had brought her this time.
The magician traversed through the viscous terrain, carrying the grimoire in her hand. She kept going in hopes of reaching the mountains. As she drew closer, the ground became denser, the mud dried, and the surface started to rise ever so slightly. Eventually, Marisa arrived at the foot of the towering mountain. She took a deep breath, intrigued at the fantastical sight before her.
With nowhere else to go, Marisa took on the impossible task and began to climb up the steep, ridged mountains. Every step was hazardous, as rocks and other things fell from the nearest vibration. She raised one hand to grab a heap of land and lifted herself up to the next platform. For hours, she repeated the process for what seemed like an eternity; climbing aimlessly without an end in sight.
As her arms grew weary, a flicker of hope came. Marisa sees that the mountain unexpectedly cuts off in the distance above her. Hoping for it to be a summit, she used her strength to throw herself onto it and landed onto the same rugged, yet larger, terrain where she lay on the surface, exhausted from the long ascension. Thoughts begin to flutter in her mind as she tries to make sense of how she could feel despite being in a dream state. Knowing she’ll get nowhere by lying motionless, Marisa gets up on foot and sees the desolate sight of dead trees that sparsely inhabited the spot. Ahead loomed the ruins of a shrine that was unrecognizable at a distance. Drawn closer, she noticed a half-buried sign in the shallow mud. She lifted it, wiping away the grime, and found its paint chipped and weathered by countless eons. Turning it over, she read the word carved there: “MORIYA.”
Then, the realization befell Marisa, who grew harrowed at the implication of the sight. She dropped the sign back onto the ground and quickly sprinted down the cliff, clinging only to the book. The magician slid down the slopes in a rush, getting rashes and scratches from the uneven hard rocks that filled the mountain.
However, as she continued to descend. A towering creature arose from the mountain’s peaks. Marisa, dreadful, looked above to see that same entity she saw in her previous dream emerging and roared at the barren landscape. Marisa lands at the foot of the mountain and continues to flee from the scene.
Yet regardless of how far she went, the creature, now fully risen from the crumbling mountains that once stood, revealed itself as something horribly fish-like with three sets of appendages on each side that hung from its abdomen and a face so hideous that it churned and shifted depending on what direction Marisa saw it from, pursued the young magician, thundering with every step. Marisa ran past sickly trees, ruined homes, and places she knew that were no longer. The magician could feel the shadow of the creature loom over her as its wet, quenching sounds filled her eardrums.
But after miles of running, Marisa would stub her toe on a small rock and trip onto the ground. The book was thrown out of her hands. The magician turned and saw the monster for herself in its full glory. Gelatinous flesh with luminescent veins glowed faintly from around its vast body. Then, the creature lowered itself in front of Marisa and blew its heavy breath onto the young girl. The magician did not know how to react to the situation; she tried to escape her captivity but found the mud too sticky to release herself from. So, without a choice, Marisa embraced her fate. The creature opened its large, gaping and arthropod-like jaw before the thing consumed Marisa whole.
…
Marisa wakes up again in a cold sweat. Her heart was beating out of her chest as her body was sharp and sensitive to the morning air. Marisa calmed herself, assuring herself it was just a dream, and realized that a blanket was put over her meek body. She turned and saw the Hakurei miko, Reimu, standing behind her looking through the shelves of books that lined her walls.
“Are these all yours?” Reimu said, turning to Marisa, who seemed surprised at her presence. Reimu chuckled, approaching the magician, and kneeled on one leg to see her. “I thought I’d check on you. You’ve been gone for two weeks, and it has started to worry me too much. I guess you just needed a friend, huh?”
“I—I don’t know!” Marisa broke down, distraught, and collapsing from her chair onto Reimu’s arm. “P—please, get rid of that book for me!”
The miko did not know how to respond. So she pulled Marisa closer in her arms, brushing away the tears that clung to her lashes. Then, gently, Reimu asked, “Marisa… tell me. Tell me what you saw in your dreams.”
Marisa tears quieted, but she still did not reply. The two of them lingered on the cold hard floor, Reimu caressing her friend’s blond hair as the night whistled its wistful tune.
Notes:
This story was particularly influenced by H.P. Lovecraft's short story, "Dagon" in many aspects. But as I did with Dunwich horror, and perhaps more clear here, it is not a 1:1 adaptation of the original tale. I took a lot of creative liberties this time around and configured the story to my liking. Personally, as the original story was interpreted as Lovecraft's fear of being stranded at sea, I think this story is more aligned with the Lovecraftian trope of the dangers that comes with madness; partially inspired by the opening lines of "The Call of Cthulhu."
Chapter 3: Dark Side of the Moon
Summary:
Kaguya asks Eirin to tell her a bedtime story for once, wanting to hear of the things she had missed after she was exiled from the Lunar Capital. Hesitant, Eirin told the story of an expedition to the dark side of the moon.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Won't you humor me with a story, Eirin?”
“Only if you promise you'll go to sleep after that.”
“Hm, sure, I will.”
Eirin laughs. “Well then, what do you want to know?”
“What happened when I was exiled from the Capital?”
Eirin pauses; a wave of guilt rushes into her gentle heart. She found it difficult to think about the history of the Lunar Capital in the centuries when the princess was absent knowing in those days she looked back unfondly. Nonetheless, Eirin decided it was best she abided by her wishes and smiled softly while caressing Kaguya's cheeks.
“Alright then,” she said, “it started on the hundredth cycle after your exile. I was amongst a group of scientists that was a division of a larger team to expand Lunar Capital’s territories. Our goal was to gather as many resources that were sustainable to power a city of that scale. I was stationed near the “black,” or what many would refer to as the “dark side of the moon” now. Much of my colleagues believed that the region carried rare resources that we sought after in a pursuit to create cold fusion.”
“Now during the crew’s expedition into the ‘black,’ I stayed in the outpost to monitor the situation from afar, as they were better equipped than I was. I saw through the small cameras lodged into the suits everything that was happening. Each step into the abyss felt like a grueling second as darkness drew closer. I could only helplessly watch as each member was enveloped into the abyss and saw nothing on the receiving end but the muttering of their comms.”
“So? What did you find there?” Kaguya asked, intrigued.
“We found a lot,” she chuckled, getting up from the bed and walking up to the window. “After a few minutes of the pitch-black nothing, a glimmer of light began to seep in. Then, as I was about to lose hope that the far side of the moon held anything… but I was wrong, there was something more… unbelievable as I thought.”
The pharmacist stared out the glass and gazed into the moon above. “We found a marvelous city that has been untouched by time, built before our arrival and before everything on the earth—it was a sight to behold.” She reaches her hand on the glass, muttering, “The gates of Xoth, the first and the last. Large, monumental structures whose pillars were adorned with intricate sculptures of a beast so malignant and hideous one cannot help but stare in awe. In the center was a caricature of an entity I was unfamiliar with. I could only barely recall its detail being amorphous and pulpy, I would say it reassembled something of an octopus in appearance. In its syndactyly hands, it carried a large, stone frame wrapped with veins of alien foliage.”
“Then, one of the members approached the marvelous sight. Inscriptions on the caricature were first difficult to decipher, as they consisted of a largely alien and extinct language—but when I did, I believe it read “Koshulthu.” I knew not of its origin, nor did I bother to do research. But the minerals extracted from the statue were sturdy enough that it was attempted to be replicated for future construction… By now, I have no clue whether they still went on with the plan.”
Then, Eirin paused again, clenching her fists at the moon as she felt something shake her soul. Horrible memories began to shake her, seeping back into her mind where she wanted not for it to return. She lowered her arm and turned to Kaguya who seemed deeply intrigued with the tale. The pharmacist sat on the bed again, putting on another smile, “but that’s enough of that. What about I tell you of the other wonders that happened during those times?” Eirin proceeded, trying to ignore her thoughts and explained all the other things that have happened in Kaguya’s absence—both the intriguing and the mundane. Eventually, the princess would fall asleep from the weariness and slumber peacefully in her bed. Eirin, heartfelt at the sight, tucked Kaguya in her soft blanket and kissed her again on the forehead before she got up and left the bedroom. As the pharmacist slid the door open, she was met with Reisen Udongein leaning against the flower-patterned walls of Eientei, seemingly waiting for her.
“Reisen, fancy seeing you up this late,” Eirin muttered, closing the door behind her.
“You told her the half-truth,” Reisen confronted, tilting her head, “about the moon expedition to the ‘black.’ Why?”
Eirin stared at the rabbit in disbelief that she knew about what happened. She turned to peek through the small crevice between the door and the wall to make sure the princess was fully asleep. Then the pharmacist turned back at Reisen and sighed. “Certainly if you knew what happened, you’d know why I left out details,” she said, crossing her arms. “The horrors that occurred are unimaginable. I saw my own people murdered right before my eyes in the hands of those… things. It was a bloodshed, you know this, lives slaughtered in the name of… what? Curiosity is one thing, Reisen, but the cat should have never opened the box. Who knows if they’d still be alive or not if the gates of Xoth were kept uncovered?”
“True…” the bunny nodded slightly, “but why the need to tell the story if you are just going to lie about it anyways?”
“Well I thought it'd be a nice story to tell Kaguya for the night and... perhaps I desire to let it out of my chest once in a while,” Eirin said, her face cold. “I can’t always harbor my feelings. After all, wouldn’t you have done the same, Udongein?”
So the night grew older. In the distance, stars glimmered across the black skies while the moon shone brightly amongst the sleeping lands of Gensokyo. Eirin, having settled things with the rabbit earlier, resided in her bedroom, asleep with a disturbed dream. She tossed and turned, feeling a burning sensation within her heart that was inescapable. The pharmacist was reminded of the events in Xoth once again and saw herself on the pale, ancient expanse of the rocky surface of the moon. Around her were bodies of the dead, those who challenged the Great Old Ones, three of whom stood before her. She deliberately tried to forget the appearance of the entities, believing the sight of them maddened her enough that it made her restless for many months before she could slumber peacefully once again. But despite the blatant ignorance, she could still recall the vague shape of the octopus species composed of matter widely alien to the known universe. Each of them condescended to the pharmacist; striking red eyes stared deeply into her fragile soul. Then, one of the Great Old Ones began to speak to her in the language she understood. Although in fragments, one stood out different amongst the rest.
“The men you have sent feed his famish as our dead God awaits to be reawakened,” the thing communicated telepathically, which mere remembrance made Eirin’s head pound and rattled in pain. “Know that when He rises from his tomb of R’lyeh, the chain shall start. All things you’ve loved will cease. Why not see your ‘friend’ you’ve long abandoned on the forsaken earth where He is also kept?”
Eirin jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat as the unfathomable guilt quickly rushed into her mind once more. She breathed heavily, eyes shocked by the memory as the lingering horror persisted regardless of how long she went. Realizing the sun had risen in the far horizon, Eirin calmed herself, sighed, and got up to prepare for the day. Although an imperishable, feverish dream haunted her slumber, she knew the days would proceed without a concern of the moment.
Still, the feeling of dread followed her every waking hour as the warning from the Great Old Ones will forever continue to linger in her heart. She recalled the mission being called back after the massacre in the gates of Xoth, the various leaders of the Lunar Capital deciding it was best if they kept what they had instead of touching on something far more than they were. Despite considering themselves as gods, there are many things that are beyond their already rich understanding of the universe.
Further than the dust clouds and galaxies afar, in a world untouched by neither men nor creatures… There lies the horrible, hostile things that lurk in the shadows, waiting for the day when the stars will align and their leader will rise from His watery grave to reclaim the earth once more.
Notes:
This one is relatively short and written in under a day but I think it's my favorite one out of the three I have released thus far. I was listening to Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" while writing this which did help with influence the process a little bit.
On another note, this one is less personal compared to the last two stories as I try to fully indulge on the "Cosmic Horror" aspect of the premise a little bit more without going too all out... yet.
Chapter 4: Shadow of Carcosa
Summary:
Maribel has been having strange dreams about a vivid world that was unfamiliar to her. She questions her friend, Renko, if she knew anything about it to which her friend showed a painting from an art exhibition she visited earlier that day...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
" Oh, thou who burn'st in heart for those who burn
In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn;
How long be crying— 'Mercy on them, God!'
Why, who art thou to teach and He to learn? "
The night was solemn and quaint. The soft glow of the moon shone through the window and illuminated the small, dim flat. When the dreams first occurred, the blond girl did not know.
Constantly the girl dreamt of that same, mysterious world. In them, the girl would see herself in a dark, brooding forest where a lake lay before her, large and widely still, unmoved by the natural wind that blew from the west. The tall, foreboding tree rustled to the rhythm as it shook and shed its golden-tinted leaves on the soft meadows below. Behind the lake Hali, she caught a glimpse of a tower that condescended to the trees that surrounded the girl. She saw the yellow spirals that wrapped around the archaic structure. Placed on brief pedestals that extruded once every fifteen bricks that composed the tower were caricatures of a horrible entity who was foreboding and wrapped in linen colored similarly to the yellow-hued tints that were present in almost every aspect of her dream.
Then the blond girl saw the phantasmagoric space that was beyond everything else. She saw the tower hide behind the same iridescent moon that stood behind her apartment window. Alongside the moon in the void were the black stars whose rims glimmered brightly against the deep cosmos, which surrounded the forest. But most remarkable was how she realized that all things danced so fluently and rhythmically, each fluttering serenely together in what seemed like the fantastical tattered robes of the King in Yellow.
In the Hifuu club, it was not unusual to examine the many strange vistas of reality often shunned by the common man. Maribel Hearn, who was the blond girl, and her friend, Renko Usami—the only two members of the small club—were indeed fascinated by the boundaries and gaps that the world harbored underneath the naked eye.
While Maribel’s dreams of glamorous Carcosa could simply be a figment of her imagination, she did not think so. The dreams had a sensation that was too real for it to be a mere conjuring of the mind. In truth, the girl felt the brush of the wind on her fair skin and the little prickles of grass touch her bare feet. She heard the sounds of crows crying from the dense forest around and the deep bellows of strange beasts that roamed the uncharted lands.
…
“Merry, does this look familiar to your dreams?”
The next day followed. Maribel and Renku met in the small room in their university, which they had refurbished for their little club. Renku showed Maribel a photo on her phone; it was a painting that roughly illustrated a large, black landscape that inhabited similar tall trees and the ruined tower, which stood high above the grove. The skies—although different from the one that Maribel dreamt of—provoked the same dreary atmosphere she recognized from the visions.
“Where did you get this?”
“I took it at the art exhibition in Miyako Messe; one of the artists there was fond of the weird. He claims he painted it based on the dreams he has been receiving.”
“And who must this person be?” Maribel asked—again.
“Look below the painting."
Maribel's eyes gazed below the frame, following the words of her friend. There, carved onto a silver plaque, was the name “ROBERT PICKMAN.”
Maribel was familiar with the name of the Bostonian artist but had not seen many of his works personally. She knew he was renowned for his morbid artworks that depicted the macabre, amongst other ghoulish depictions of dreams, and she’d find it rather unsettling how coincidental the painting was to the moment the dreams struck the blond girl. Believing that the visions of Carcosa must be something more than a simple feverish fantasy, wonder began to fill her thoughts.
“We must question Pickman further on the painting, Renku.”
“Impossible! We are not of importance to him; what makes you think he’d answer our questions?”
The blond girl found no fault in her friend's argument. Indeed, what she had said was true; Pickman was what many would consider a celebrity. Why bother with such inept girls who only try to understand her queer dreams?
So the two thought in that small room, contemplating the choices they had. “Perhaps we can see if his other paintings presented the same vivid landscape,” Maribel thought, “but a lot of them must be stored in his home all the way in Boston. Perhaps…”
The blond girl turned back to her friend. She asked, “Did you see if he displayed any of his other paintings in the convention?”
“Actually, yes. But none matched your visions. Take a look.”
Renku showed Maribel more pictures that she snapped in that exhibition. Maribel hunched from her chair to get a clearer look at each one.
From the ghoulish, earthly, red-eyed, and vaguely humanoid canines to the entrancingly eldritch realm where rocks of varying forms floated idly amidst the white abyss that enveloped the piece, none of them truly captured Maribel’s dreams of Carcosa the same way the painter’s latest work did.
Disappointed, Maribel did not want to give up there—not yet. The blond girl stood up, gently placing her finger on her chin; she looked out the window and wondered. Renku clicked her phone off and slid it in her pocket; she got up and approached her friend from behind. The two stared out together, witnessing the breathtaking vista of the Japanese countryside, where the trees blossomed freely without a single building or skyscraper in sight.
“Every time I see the sun, I remember Carcosa,” she muttered, pointing at the dimming star sinking further behind the lands, “the beauty, bright, inescapable. There has to be a way to answer these questions, no?”
Renku knew not what to say. Her eyes were dazed, bathing in the flashy evening sky. A sudden memory resurfaced from that fateful morning when she visited the exhibition. She remembered talking to Pickman about the matter. She told the painter of the dreams Maribel had been seeing that she simply described it as an “awe-inspiring” sight. Pickman—who seemed rather suave in his words—told the girl:
“Now all my works are conjured from my everlasting longing for Carcosa. The place I dreamt of when I was younger—as magnificent as it was—I could never find it. But perhaps if one dared to look into the skies, they may find the lost kingdom that awaited to be found.”
Memory in hand, Renku quickly took out her phone once more and opened up the gallery to find that picture. Maribel seemed confused by her fast notions of swiping until she stopped and zoomed into the intricately painted skies in his “Ghoul” artwork. There, she spots a cluster of stars that were more detailed than the rest of the cosmos at large in the piece: the constellation of Taurus, where a “V” cluster was seen with the brightest being on one of its “horns.”
“That's it!”
Excitedly, Renku showed her discovery to Maribel, who seemed confused at what she was trying to show. Renku zoomed in at the star cluster, hoping her friend would have a clearer image of what it was.
“Look at the star clusters; see how detailed they are compared to the rest of the background? That is ‘Hyades,’ a part of the constellation Taurus. If it were like finding the entrance to the Netherworld, then the path to Carcosa may be hidden in the seasons in which Hyades is most visible. But where? Now we must find it.”
“You always had a way to connect the most sublime of things together. Creepy.”
“That is the magic of celestial investigation! Now, let's try to figure out where to go next before the season ends…”
Notes:
I coined up this chapter during class since I've been reading into Hifuu Club recently and thought it'd be an... 'interesting' plot to develop.
The reason as to why it ends in a cliffhanger. I intend this chapter as a first part to an overarching story rather than being a one-shot like the rest (or being loosely connected). My plan is to release the 'prologue' here and, MAYBE, if my plans do fall through, I'll post up a new work develop Maribel and Renko's journey to Carcosa as I intend.
As for now, I'll proceed with the usual anthology structure of current work, and perhaps revisit this concept some other time when I've figured the entire plot line out.
Chapter 5: UNMALLEABLE
Summary:
Shameimaru Aya searches for something to write about for her newspaper. She eventually hears talk of a Shining Trapezohedron.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
A struggling writer trying to make ends meet, Aya Shameimaru indeed traveled throughout Gensokyo to pick up on the latest story and whatever interesting events were happening to stir up her papers. But to her dismay, it seems none specifically really caught onto her criteria. No massive “incidents”, no… nothing! Just both humans and youkai living their own lives; minding their simple minded business.
But that didn’t stop the tengu from searching, she was determined that there must be something out there that is perfect for her articles. Thus, she continued searching, flying through the Youkai mountain, the human village, the various shrines, and of course, through the misty lake. While a lot of activities happened, they weren’t anything notable. Groaning, Aya landed under the shade of a forest, huffing as she gathered up strength again to continue.
“God, why can’t things just… happen?” She asked herself, sighing and sliding down the tree, “it’s so… stale here. I can’t just not write anything today! Consistency! The truth must be put in hand…”
Then, as Aya continued to self-deprecate, Sakuya Izayoi of the Scarlet Devil Mansion passed by holding a bag of groceries. Oddly enough, it seemed she had a communication device placed near her ears which she spoke through too.
“The shining trapezohedron? What about it?” The servant muttered lowly, “acting oddly? What am I supposed to know of it? Why don't you ask the mistress about it?”
An idea sparked in Aya’s head—a bulb going off. She quickly got up, seeing Sakuya head toward the mansion, the tengu had a cunning idea. “This trapezohedron seems… important,” she quietly thought to herself, following the servant from behind, “perhaps it is something valuable… it being missing might work as a great story…”
So she continued, up until the Scarlet Devil Mansion where she hid behind a bush and saw Sakuya greet the gatekeeper, Hong Meiling, before being let in. The tengu looked around to see any slits that she could enter through, her eyes tracking through the walls until the furthest wall held a promise. Rushing to the side, Aya spots a hole that seemed to usually be used for rabbit youkai visiting, but this, she could use to her advantage. Looking around to make sure no one was there, Aya tried to fit herself into the hole. At first, she struggled to even pass through. The hole was too small for a regular-sized crow to fit in, and it didn't help that her breasts were particularly in the way for lifting her body slightly as she dragged it through the dirt. Eventually, after much forcing, she managed to pass through. Taking a few moments to recollect herself after the short-lived scuffle before eventually stumbling through the backdoor of the manor to proceed on with her mission.
…
Inside was particularly stunning as Aya never quite explored parts of the mansion after only briefly visiting the porch to talk to Patchouli Knowledge, the librarian, and the mistress of the house Remilia Scarlet for her article on the “ Horror From Hatsume .” Large European influences breathed through the spacious gothic halls. Pictures hung on the clean, gray walls of the supposed lineage before Remilia’s reign, some of which dates back all the way to 100 A.D. Aya eventually reached a flight of stairs descending into an unknown abyss. Looking around again, she gulped, staring into the uncertain path that it leads to. Holding her breath, she began her descent to the unknown. Each step, an echo. She couldn’t quite see what was in front of her but the limitless darkness that stretched out for miles on end. As what feels like an eternity passes, she’d come face to face with a room standing alone. Curious, she placed her ear on the door to hear what lives on the other side.
“No! I want to go out! I want to play!” A youthful voice seems to yell at the top of her lungs while running amok in that small room, “you can’t keep me in here!!”
“Miss Flandre, it is supposed to be your bedtime. You must rest… I promise you can play when night time comes around,” another reassuring voice replied, seemingly similar to Sakuya’s oddly enough, “your sister is going to be really mad…”
Deciding it was not what Aya was looking for, she noticed another long hallway beside the room where she could faintly see the distant light flicker. “I’ll leave you two to it,” she muttered to herself, getting off the wooden door and proceeding down the decrepit passageway to wherever it leads.
Through the giant halls, Aya Shameimaru cautiously approached the door to not suddenly startle any of the mansion residents. She at long last reached the door after creeping up quietly for what seems like a devilishly long time. Pressing her ear against the door again, she heard two women conversing in an unmistakable voice.
“Is it acting up again?” The first voice, assuming it was Remilia, said. Then another voice drops in, replying to Remilia’s concerns. She said, “no, but it has been flickering a lot today instead.”
The latter, Aya knew must be Patchouli, there was no doubt in that. She continued to overhear them talking, the librarian bringing up, “I am curious, what does an object like this have to do with your family heirloom? I had assumed this entire house was your family’s legacy,” she asked, wondering.
“Ah, don’t be mistaken, Patchouli, this house is our legacy,” Remilia answered, “but the shining trapezohedron goes way further than that. I believe it was during the 13th century, my father who was a part of the Church in disguise found the artifact inside a Transylvanian Castle. The king who once ruled the small kingdom, Robertus Bloche used it for all sorts of rituals. In the king’s personal diary, I remember reading it myself that indeed it held some kind of creature beyond our strength.”
“And what may that be?”
“He goes by many names, but the most used name… well, Haunter of the Dark .” Remilia responded, a shiver quivering through Aya’s body as the words were muttered. FOr some reason, to the tengu, the name provoked some kind of dread despite its simplicity. The fact that she has just experienced walking through darkness, and now an entity living within the artifact was simply named “Haunter of the Dark”, seemed… poetic.
But now she knew what to write. “Scarlet Devil Mansion holding some kind of secret weapon?!” THe title popped up in her head, believing that it may stir up communities, the story would definitely be successful amongst the denizens of Gensokyo regardless… if anything said about the Trapezohedron were to be believed.
So Aya quickly sets off, leaving the premises in an instant. Flying through the darkness and ascending into the main hall, she swiftly slips through the window and heads back to her quarters, excitement filling her head on the possibilities that’ll happen if all things came to be.
Reaching home, Aya sat down on her desk and took out her typewriter. She began typing away through the night. Recollecting everything she had seen or heard, the mythology of this mysterious creature that resided contained within the Scarlet Devil Mansion. Mixing some of her interpretations, she desired to capture the hearts of her audiences very much. Even if she’d be in grave danger by the residents of the manor, she couldn’t care about that as she clicked on each button, quickly forming paragraphs after paragraphs without a care in the world.
…
Eventually, night arrived. The moon lifted up high beyond all the lush lands of Gensokyo. Aya sat on her desk, finished with her latest article and was waiting for publication. She had fallen asleep in the process, growing too tiresome after a long honest day’s work. Aya snoozed, hand on the desk that she laid on, a dream suddenly appeared to her.
The tengu saw herself in some subliminal space. Seeing she was back in the hallway that led to the Trapezohedron’s prison, she approached it again. Seeing the door was unlocked, Aya twisted the knob and let herself in. Within was a particular sight, she saw a man of incredible height and power, dressed in long, flashy robes while crowned with a golden pschent that glowed with inherent light. He stood on a fabulous platform which before him lay an altar, surrounding him were people and slaves kneeling on their knees as the man, who she assumed must be the ruler of the sandy dunes, faced a marvelous, animal-headed statue before him.
Then, descending into the man’s arms was a Shining Trapezohedron that bore immeasurable beauty with intricately carved edges and crafted with such detail that it seemed immaculate. Aya saw as the man received the blessing from heaven, holding the artifact in hand, he was quickly consumed by a black mist that spread throughout the region as cries and pleaded for mercy. Horror settled within the tengu’s mind as the ruler said with a clear voice, “N’gahl! Nyarlathotep! Es’tu vihem truye!”
Aya attempted to flee the scene, taking off and flying through another direction before her vision blurred and filled with kaleidoscopic visions, she fell to another ancient kingdom. This time, close were the architectures to the Scarlet Devil Mansion’s. She saw villagers surrounding a towering, almost foreboding castle that sat on a crooked mountain. On the top of the grandeur structure, she saw a man holding that same artifact and raising it above his head before announcing to his people, “This is the Almighty truth! This is what God truly is! Bow down before him, he who suffers, praise him! Praise him!”
As their words were muttered, Aya saw that same black fog fill the region, causing more death to the people. Amidst the chaos, she again saw the ruler stand, a sharp smile formed on his face as his people ran and suffered for a reason she could never determine. Once again, Aya tried fleeing the scene, passing over the kingdom walls. The tengu tried to fly as far as she could from the horrible massacre that was occurring there. Yet she felt something trail behind her. Looking back, Aya saw a beast composed of otherworldly mist that formed somewhat the shape of a bat-like caricature with three, glowing orbs revolving around one another in the front of his head giving chase to the meek journalist. Afraid, Aya tried to fly faster; away from the Haunter that was growing closer and closer towards her. Eventually, the tengu felt overwhelmed by the black fog followed by a monstrous growl that consumed her. She fell again, through reality she found herself back in Gensokyo. Now she didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not as she roamed through vast, barren lands.
Her questions would be answered as she stumbled upon a large crater where the misty lake was once present. With harrowed eyes, she looked up and saw the alien constellations forming in the cosmos above. The moon shattered, and she could even see the bodies of the various Lunarians floating aloof in space. In the distance, she saw the Scarlet Devil Mansion with a large, blasted hole through the clocktower. On the gates, she saw everyone she ever knew crucified and hung like martyrs on a cross. The air became thick, Aya stepped back, her heart pounding as tears rolled down her eyes. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t muster up the courage to do so.
Then, from behind the manor. That same monster appeared. He towers over everything in the lands, his wings larger than the fields as the fractured moon glowed dimly behind him. Her pupils shrinked, she froze in place, unable to comprehend the horror before her eyes. She saw creatures rise behind the Haunter. Pulpy-tentacled land masses that surrounded the blackened beast. Various amphibious figures of glistening skin revealed themselves from the thick forest that surrounded her. And at last, the clouds stirred and the cosmos twisted to reveal the ultimate truth at helm. Aya saw a lopping horde of mindless and amorphous dancers surrounding what was once the stars, now replaced by a gaping, eldritch void that was composed of a dense, almost cloud-like substance.
No words could ever describe what she saw. The memory, too horrifying, and the scene, maddening. She wailed to the God now above her, pleading for mercy from the abhorrent nightmare. And no matter how much she cried, how much she begged, the blind idiot God mindlessly devoured the world she inhabited piece by piece… Aya saw helplessly as chunks of the earth began to stretch into the mouth of the God and soon, nothing was left but her sitting alone in a dark void surrounded by beasts of blasphemous nature dancing to this new world.
Aya sobbed alone, curling up without comfort. She embraced the cold confusion she now faced. Her tears, soundless and unnoticed by the various entities that filled the void. Indeed, she was alone and forever alone now that she was the only person to survive. How tortuous life is, no matter what you chase, it’ll all end. No suffering will measure the cosmic indifference that lies beyond the thinly veiled human eyes called “sanity.” Unless one loses these eyes to see the furthest depths of the unchartable regions of space, they are bound to endlessly suffer the existential thought that they are pointless in the mechanical workings of the cosmos.
…
So when Aya eventually woke up, drenched in cold sweat and tears. She quickly disposed of the article and never talked about it again. Her dreams are haunted by these visions, and many times she’s visited the Hakurei Shrine for blessings against these revolting dreams. But the miko of the shrine, Reimu, had stated clearly that as tengu, she could do nothing about it.
Yet the journalist continued to endure either way. She decided to live by this guilt of unfathomable dread as she lived life as normal. Knowing the time of this apocalypse is neither far nor near, perhaps there was nothing to fear for now. Thus, Aya eventually grew out of the horrible visions and proceeded with her days like nothing happened. Her fears sealed in her subconscious where she hoped it would never be opened again.
…
“You haven’t been having those dreams, have you?” One day, as she was talking to Reisen in the Bamboo forest of the lost, the lunar rabbit asked the tengu.
“No, why?” Aya answered, curious about the rabbit’s sudden question.
“I just heard that the dream world has been infiltrated by some aliens… Tewi told me when she curiously entered the many holes that lead there and… well, it isn’t too pleasant, I think.”
Aya’s heart dropped, she stared at Reisen almost troubled. She cleared her throat and shook the dread off. “I –It’s probably nothing,” she muttered, staring up at the sky as the sun blazed through the blue skies and the days… continued as it always did.
THE END
Notes:
This came to me one morning after a good nights rest. I had written a story similarly in the past for personal reasons, and I thought I'd reuse the idea here.
If it wasn't obvious, this was mainly inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's, "Haunter Of the Dark."