Moon Phases


Thursday, February 2, 2012

Dreams of the Ancient Cthullhu

The strangeness effected me the bizarreness shocked me. How can I possibly relate the things I have witness over the last few years. That fateful day was what marked the change. My favorite uncle who my family called “Peppe” had told me a story or a tale so shocking and twisted. Please bear in mind those who read my words that stories and tales are sometimes more than just stories or tales. Things in the universe can change without warning. Investigate the cause and you will come up with no answers. My days are spent deep I thought. Sometimes I do not even rouse myself until the later part of the afternoon or the earlier part of the evening. The horrifying events that happen beneath the surface of our waking reality, do they always occur and it takes a story to open the doorways of our mind so we can perceive? Oh to the ancient ones that I had never seen or known that which I know now. Blessed are those who are blind those who cannot see. Who spend their waking moment oblivious to the darkness that surround their tiny little dot of light they refer to as life.

Pepe was my favorite uncle. A rough tough military man who despite all that he had been through and seen still knew how to have a good laugh. He was much younger than his actual years. Even after being out of the military for many years he still kept his crew cut almost shaved close to his head. His eyes were a wood colored brown that would sometimes appear lighter in direct light and would turn darker with the evening. One thing that always concerned me was the red haze that surrounded his brown pupils. This was brought about by his excessive drinking. The amount of Vodka my uncle consumed was enough to kill almost another man, yet my uncle seems almost unaffected by his excessive binge drinking. When I was younger I would ask my dad why he drank so much. My dad was calmly say that what he went though during the Vietnam War caused him to drink. On rare evening he would share some bizarre tale that was so bizarre It seemed you could turn it into some science fiction movie. If they were so strange was how could I be sure he was not spinning some yarn, you would have to hear the tone of his voice to understand. They either happened or he seriously believed in their occurrence. People who know my uncle, his friends, family and neighbors knew that he was mentally fit and physically fit. “Pepe” worked , held down a job and functioned despite his heavy drinking.

The stories he told me in my younger years always caught my attention. When he started telling his story I was hooked from beginning to end. His stories back then were innocent. Tales of him and his friends on some daring adventure. As a kid I looked up to him and what nephew who idolizes his uncle does not look forward to hearing him when he tells a tale of his adventure. The vodka loosened him up. This is a story I wish he never told.

“ The year was 1966 and our boat crew was stranded off the coast of Nam. This was a year before you were born Randy.” He paused , He was letting it sink in. Usual tactic yet this time he was studying my face like he wanted to see how I would respond. He gulped down a half a glass of vodka just like it was water. My friend Cernowitz admired him for this kind of behavior. Stories are fun to listen to in your younger years, especially from someone who you look up to and admire. Uncle Pepe’s stories were funny and entertaining. They got especially funny after he put away several drinks. Alcohol always loosens people up as my dad would tell. Booze let you unwind, relax and let out what ever it was that was living inside your mind. People got more expressive when under the influence. Some times it was better to leave those things stored away because they were like wild and dangerous animals that were loosed upon an unsuspecting populace an who knew what the final result would turn out like Behind all of his humorous tales was an ominous shadow of swirling darkness just clamoring for release.

I was a mere 15 years old when I heard the first horror story. My life would change from that point on . A bizarre tale would turn a normal teen agers life into a bizarre life. Truth be told it was not fair. Life sometimes is not fair. Out there beyond this little island of sanity we created in an end lass space of universal insanity is a reality that is too awesome terrifying and down right reality shattering for us to even entertain.

That afternoon my uncle was dressed in green army pant and a white t shirt. A big bottle of cheap vodka was placed in front of him with a flower patterned orange juice glass. He filled it up like he always did and swallowed it whole just like it was a glass of water. Then my uncle leaned back and smiled.

“ It was in the year 1966, about a year before you were born.” He paused to poor himself another glass. After gulping it greedily down he would proceed like he always did. “ the sky was clear, and then all of a sudden it turned grey and then black. We all started panicking as the wind picked up and the waves started pounding our ship. The ships commander decided to head back to port he must have figured that it would be safer on land. Luck was not on our side because it was raining so hard that we could barely sea in front of us and the instruments went haywire. My crew and I thought the Soviets had managed to come up with a weapon that could alter weather patterns. What we say was just unnatural. Like an endless gauntlet of buckets the rain came pouring down. The wind moved our ship around like it was a little toy. Finally the rain and the wind stopped and just as quickly as it clouded up and started raining my crew and I were looking up at a clear blue sky with the sun shining brightly over head. At that moment in time it seemed like good news. The weather patterns left us baffled but we were glad to sea clear skies and a calm sea. Our joy soon turned to sorrow when we discovered that our radio was down. No land in sight and everything disabled we were left adrift without any way to communicate with headquarters. “

The sweat was pouring off his forhead much like the raindrops that dripped down a window from a winter storm. Pepe paused his tale to wipe the sweat from his forhead. Pepe's entire body was drenched with sweat and his clothes were one shade darker. " It was hot and the fod and water supplies were running low. Showers were out of the question we did not want to use up our precious water supplies. Let us not foget that the men were anxious from being a drift for three days it gets to you. Some of the men decided it would be a great idea to take a dip. After being hot and couped up for three days the cool sea water felt good on our skin but that joy did not last long. Within moments we were attacked by these monstrous sharks. Notrmal sharks don't like eating men but these sharks were not normal they were freaks. Our PT boat was small and was meant for speed. When one of the shjarks swam by us were realized it was twice the size of our disabled boat that could neither move nor radio for help. The sailors on the boat felt unsafe. A good word for these sharks would be "demonic" they were possessed. They kept circling our boat they were getting ready to make their attack."

"At 12 noon one of the sharks started bumpiong into the boat. Everytime the shark bumped into our boat by hitting it with his nose the boat began to shake more and more violently. One of my ship my mates went crazy with fear, immediately he dashed over to the gun that was mounted to the front end of the boat and he began fing at the sharks like he was a madman. When he was finished we looked at the sea. Blood was floating on the water, the ocean was literally red with the blood. He had managed to kill three of them and their shattered carcasses were floating in the water. The mad shooting by my shipmate may have stopped the attacks temporarily but we all knew instictively that this was the calm before the storm. More sharks came drawn by the scent of blood. A freeding frenzy developed and the hungry sharks hasstily devoured what they could of the carcasses. Before we knew there was almost nothing left of the dead sharks. Some of the hungry predators were fighting each other over the smallest morsel. Once their feasting on dead flesh was finished me and the other four shipmates noticed that every few moments as they were cirlcing our boat they would pop their heads up and look at us and then they would go back down under the water. We all shook our head. "No way" hissed Swenson one of the shipmates" Something is not right about those sharks"
"Maybe it is an experiment gone wrong" I yelled "and somehow these freaks got loose and are wreaking terror on the open sea"
"You think they were genetically modified" queried Ike, s a slightly over weight sailor with a large gut " THese sharks just aren't smart they seem" he paused for a few moments then continued. There is something sinister about these sharks"
Swenson was the shipmate who fired the mounted gun and killed the sharks. Tall, muscular almost the makings of a good athlete yet lanky which gave the impression of awkwardness or clumsiness. Freckles doted his skin and his hair was copper read or actually what was left of his thinning hair as he was going bald at a rathjer young age. Swenson looked over the bow "These monsters are going to get us and they are going to devour us. Make your peace with the creator" Quielty he moaned to himselfm yet loud enough for all of us to hear. Deep down inside we knew his words spoke an awful truth that could not be denied.
In a space of about 5 seconds Swenson was talking to us and then all of teh sudden he was gone. Snatches quickly into death bottomless pit all that was left were a few drops of blood red water. Death in the form of demon sharks was about to close in. A huge tower blocking out our view of the sun the demon shark rose. Nothing was left for us to do but calmly await our death. AS it came back down wew could see Swenson's lifeless body resting in the bed of razor sharp teeth. Two chews and his body desceended into the gorge. The boat splintered efortlessly into pieces as the heavy body of the demon shark crashed against it. What was left of my fellow crew mates fell into the water. I remeber so well those sailor swimming and screaming for their life. Then the demon sharks rose swallowing them in that gaping black hole lined with razor sharp teeth. For sopme reason I was spared. At that time I had no inkling but I would soon find out. I crept aboard a nearby life boat with out being seen and was left to float for days.
I call it a miracle becasue those oversized demon sharks could have easily swallowed the life boat much like a frog would a fly. I thought about looking over the boats edge to se if theyu were still there but my fear left me paralysed unable to move like a lifeless corpse frozen with rigormortis. My moput was dry like a desert my throat felt scratchy like it was a tunnel of desert sand.>

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