Esoterror

The abundant volumes of procured experience, have failed me, on this note of incision, and I cannot provide, under any empirical device, the desired fortune of understanding from this novelty. What I speak of at this moment, is beyond the courage of protruding inquisition, and the untethered fascinations of ideation; I would rather say this novelty is something of the uncanny, unbeknown to our very species. It was when I was hunting, in the promising capital of a derelict woodlot, that I saw this uncanny presence, an entity, unentitled to the inventories of anecdote, greatly due to the possibly deficient culture of human summary. I had a shotgun in my possession, and with the acumen of the eagle, I directed my purport at its idle form. At this point it was only a vague form, one which I knew not to be human, at any potential of surmise. Yes, I shot at it, and it shrieked, disturbing the corvid gathering upon the barren trees. I fancy that it fell, with an agility which would have fascinated the intelligent sentience, had it not already procured the rights of strange designations in mind. I paced unto it, with uncouth vehemence, and at a position of its residence I looked, with a condescending gaze upon its mold. The bullet had created a cavity in its skulp, and it bled in the color of atrament. Now I had the morbid delight of distilling its semblance; it had an elongated caput, with scanty withered hairs and a sallow complexion. Its eyes were ebony, and small, but its mouth was bohemoth, with many acuminate teeth, to be discovered from its exposed orifice. I could not find, a passage of inhalation from its visage, which looked much like a shrouding mask. Its body was much more humanoid, with limbs of appropriate portion, though awfully scrawny. It was also the long fingers at their extremity, which made me shudder, and my imagination was wrung of all idealism. I took a dagger from a pocket, and I thought, I should take its head, and hang it upon my wall, as counterpart to my collection. Shuddering at the idea, as I grinned at its obscenity, I bowed unto it, and amputated the head, leaving solely the ghastly body. I disposed of the body in the rushing waters of a river, and returned to my cabin, with my priced possession. It was upon the timber of my parlor wall, that I assigned this victory, to ensconce and I quivered at many intervals, when it confronted my imagination, for I knew not the ethnicity of its provenance. On that night I slept, quietly, absorbed by the embrace of oblivion, surrending myself to the buoyance of iridescent dreams, but then I heard, a squelch upon my floorboards. It was slightly inaudible and so I gave it excuse; it is perhaps the rearrangement of objects which, we often do not venture to understand. Returning to my sleep at this thought, it was then, that I felt it, a suppressing gravity upon my bed, slithering upon me. Dear lord, the immutable lucidity of that nightmare, made me weep, for my eyes opened, and in the moonlit darkness I saw that head, equiped with many tentacles. I felt their erotic tenderness wrap my body, and slither into my mouth so I could not scream. I reached unto the chest of drawers, before my hand could be confined perpetually, and there had been a metallic crucifix, and I lodged it, with an ejaculation of might into its core. It shrieked, and weakened itself from me, but I did not stop lancinating it, with vehement sobs until it retired into languid inertness. At this moment, the thing exuded from its orifice, with a glacial whispering voice, the words,

"You are only mortal" and at length, it was dead.