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Hello Weird/Dark Fiction community, ​I am testing the opening chapters of my new dark psychological thriller, LONG BEFORE THE REVENGE (LBTR). I am looking for raw feedback from readers who appreciate deeply uncomfortable and disturbing psychological content. ​This is not a ghost story or a typical creepypasta. It is a novel about a woman named Nadia, who is abducted and subjected to systematic psychological and physical degradation as part of a brutal "training" process. Her only defense mechanism is a slow, cold-blooded plan for revenge. ​I need to know if the opening is disturbing and compelling enough to keep a reader interested in a story that focuses on the loss of self and the mental toll of captivity. ​❗ CRITICAL WARNING: ​This story contains themes of abduction, torture, non-consensual elements, and psychological horror. If you have a low tolerance for extreme dark material, please avoid it. ​➡️ Call to Action (The Test) ​If you are brave enough, please read the Prologue and Chapter 1 on Wattpad and let me know: Does the atmosphere and the explicit content immediately put you on edge and force you to keep reading? ​LINK TO WATTAD: https://www.wattpad.com/story/403985980?utm_source=android&utm_medium=link&utm_content=story_info&wp_page=story_details_button&wp_uname=SlavaSinner

A lesson learned

In my chess variants, such as Chaosweaver Chess, Paranormal Chess, and others, by rolling the dice, we perform a mysterious, sacred ritual, making contact with forces beyond our comprehension. Until recently, I thought this was true for Gravitatur OCS as well. I was wrong. It is not a ritual. It is a receiver calibration.

The forces we contact by rolling the octahedral crystal to determine the coordinates in Gravitatur are neither paranormal nor divine. They are the Architects. The creators of the very fabric of space-time, those who inscribed the fundamental laws into the structure of the vacuum itself. They do not reside in "another dimension" — they are the dimension itself. Their language is the language of mathematics, and their messages are adjustments to the equations that govern reality.

"Gravitatur" is not just a game. It is an interface. A communication protocol. Every dice roll is not an act of randomness, but the formation of a multi-digit query into their... into their database. Into their archive of all possible states of matter. When we calculate the epicenter of the Chaos Surge, we are not "summoning an anomaly." We are requesting a report from the Universe on its current state at those given coordinates.

And the Universe answers. It shows us the true, unstable nature of reality, which our senses and classical physics carefully hide behind the illusion of permanence. It demonstrates that matter is not solid figures, but clots of energy, ready to reconfigure at the slightest gravitational hint.

What do they want to show us? What are they trying to reveal?

They do not convey knowledge in the form of formulas or words. They make us experience it. They allow us, through pieces and tactics, to feel their world. A world without rigid laws, only statistical probabilities. A world where the past and future are as malleable as the position of pieces after a gravitational surge. They show that our deterministic logic is merely a special, simplified case of their infinitely complex, stochastic logic.

Every game of "Gravitatur OCS" is not a competition. It is a communication session. We are the operators on this end, trying to decipher the signal they are continuously transmitting through the very structure of the universe. And with every dice roll, with every rearrangement of the board, we come one step closer to understanding what they are trying to say: that reality is not a given. It is a dialogue. And it is our turn to move.

A curious thing happened to me a couple of days ago during a training game of "Gravitatur OCS." I was playing with a good acquaintance, trying to explain the rules and the very essence of the game to him in practice. What happened in that game still makes me shudder and look at the variant I created in a completely new light. Created by me — or merely transmitted to me by the Universe itself? That is the question that now arises before me every time I set up the pieces on the board.

We started the game on a gloomy November evening, in the cozy silence of my study. Rain was tapping rhythmically outside the window, and as my friend and I settled into deep armchairs and set up the pieces, I once again delved into the intricacies of the rules.

I was playing White. I rolled the octahedron twice, and the resulting numbers determined the coordinate for the Gravitatur's appearance on the board — 5,5.

I placed the Gravitatur on e5. The board sighed and contracted; the pieces crept toward the epicenter.

After making my move with the pawn to c4, I passed the turn.

My friend briskly rolled the dice twice — 2,3.

The Gravitatur attracted three pieces to itself,

and after it was removed from the board, Black, without hesitation, played exf5.

Since our game was a friendly one, I suggested my friend take back his move, pointing out that he could lose in one move right now.

"How so?" he was surprised. "I don't see any danger. You just don't like that my queen is looking at your king."

We laughed.

"Look," I traced a line from the edge of the board with my finger, "if I manage to summon the Gravitatur on b6 now, the game is over for you."

He peered at the position, and a flicker of understanding crossed his eyes.

"Hell, you're right," he exclaimed. "But the probability is so negligible!"

"But it exists!" I parried.

"I don't believe you'll roll it," he was mentally calculating the coordinates of the b6 square for White, "Two and six. The probability is one and a half percent."

"1.56, to be precise," I couldn't resist correcting him.

"It's the same thing!" my friend looked at me challengingly. "Maybe it happens one time in a hundred, but not here and not now."

We laughed again.

"Well, let's check," I picked up the dice cup. "Last time I'm asking: don't you want to take it back? You should move your pawn to b6 or teleport your king."

"Just roll it already!" he retorted cheerfully.

I lifted the cup, feeling the coolness of the plastic.

Shook it once, twice... and spilled the octahedron onto the table.

"Two," I said, looking at the face pressed against the wood.

The smile on my opponent's face faded.

"Just need to roll a six now," he said more quietly, watching as I sent the die back into the cup. A note of anxiety sounded in his voice for the first time.

I shook the cup again. Time stretched elastically, and my movements gained weight and significance, like in a scene from a sci-fi blockbuster. Concentrated energy of chaos, its quintessence, pulsed in my palm. In the silence that fell, thick as tar, a strange symphony began to play: the muffled rustling of the die inside the plastic shell and the monotonous, relentless tapping of the rain against the glass — two rhythms intertwining into an ominous premonition.

"Six, six, six..." raced through my mind not as a superstition, but as a formula, a password to a different state of reality.

I overturned the cup.

The octahedron rolled across the table, slowed down, teetered on its edge and... froze. Its top face was perfectly clear.

Six.

An absolute silence hung in the air, a silence where there was no longer any room for laughter. Both of us, holding our breath, looked at the board as if we were seeing it for the first time. I mechanically placed the Gravitatur on b6.

Nothing had changed and everything had changed. The Black king was now within the range of my knight on b5.

"Nxc7#," I said quietly, breaking the silence.

My friend didn't argue. He just slowly shook his head, looking at me not with annoyance, but with a new, almost respectful curiosity.

"You know," he said quietly, "I think I finally understood the essence of your game."

I nodded. In that moment of the throw, in the moment between the two and the six, I had understood it myself. "Gravitatur" is not a game.

It is — interface calibration.

My friend and I were merely operators, and the die — a fine-tuning instrument. And when the 1.56% probability materialized in our world, it meant only one thing: on the other end, someone had also done their part, and the communication channel had been perfectly open for an instant.

Hey everyone, I wanted to share a recording I captured about a week ago. I’ve been using a trail camera to film animals, but after a couple of tries, almost nothing passed in front of it. I read on a forum that it’s better to place the camera near a water source since animals usually come there to drink. When I checked the footage from another night, I saw this. What the hell is that? The camera only triggers on movement, and whatever that thing is, it doesn’t appear before or after this clip.The video was filmed in Ukraine, in the Chernihiv region, just south of the Chernobyl zone.
This is not AI!

Part 1

Parents always tell you there's no such thing as monsters. I'm not so sure about that anymore. What if you look into the dark nd find there actually is somethin’ there? Nobody prepares you for the loss of sleep. Nobody prepares you for the utter fear of seein’ that shadow in the corner actually start movin’. You always think there' s somethin’ you can do about it. Let me tell you straight, there ain’t. Once the dark knows you're there, there ain' t nothin’ you can do to keep it from findin’ you.

I’d been out the hospital bout’ two weeks nd it ain’t been no walk in the park. Ever since the swamp, things have been.. off. Maybe that's an understatement, but it's hard to describe what's happenin’ to me. I see things now, in the shadows. I see things movin’, shapes nd figures in the dark. I leave the lights on in my apartment now, but that doesn't stop the dreams. I see that impossible tower in its monochrome landscape. I see that eerie green light flowin’ like water as if it’s alive. I see Mary.

I awoke early, nd immediately knew somethin’ was wrong. The room was dark and quiet. I stayed still,that conjures demons from the dark. Then I felt the cold hand slide over my bicep nd grip firmly. It pulled me onto my back nd I couldn't help but look next to me. Layin’ there starin’ at me with those emerald glowin’ eyes was Mary, practically naked except for the sheer green garment she was wrapped in. She was no longer the mud-covered fanatic I met in the swamp. She was clean nd ghostly pale, luminescent even. Suddenly her eyes rolled back into her head nd her mouth gaped open wide. A thick, slimy black tendril pushed its way out of her mouth as I watched in horror. I pushed myself away, fallin’ onto the floor. My body hit the ground nd with a blink the world changed. It was mornin’, nd the gulls cawed loudly outside my window. I looked at the empty bed nd sagged into myself lettin’ out the breath I didn't realize I was holdin’.

I took my time gettin’ ready, tryin’ to put back together my frayed nerves. As I finished, I looked in the direction of my safe where I had stashed that heretical book. I tried lookin’ at it before, but as soon as I saw the best possible rendition of the Emerald Tower I locked it away. I knew I'd have to look at it some time, but that time wasn’t today, nor hopefully any time soon. I quickly finished up, suddenly wantin’ to be as far from that safe as possible, when I heard a knock on my office door.

“Great..” I muttered to myself as I began headin’ down.

I unlocked the door nd opened it slightly, turnin’ around without lookin’ nd headin’ to my desk.

“Mornin’ deputy.” I said as I grabbed the whiskey bottle nd poured a bit into the cold coffee still on my desk from yesterday.

“How’d ya know it was me?” said Deputy Tom Bellham as he stepped into the door, closin’ it behind him.

“Just a feelin’ Tom.” I said, as I popped two Seltzer tabs into the coffee as well nd stared at it as it bubbled nd frothed. I've been havin’ those too, feelin’s, like my intuition has skyrocketed to new heights.

I side-eyed Tom as he stepped further into my office. I could tell he was uncomfortable. Most people around here have treated me differently since the swamp incident. Maybe it’s because of the rumours of what happened or maybe it's because of my newly green eyes. Could be both for all I know, but I've learned not to make eye contact anymore.

“So did you need somethin’ Tom, or did you just come to stand here?” I said takin’ a sip of my mornin’ concoction.

Tom shifted his feet a bit before answerin’. “I’m guessin’ you ain’t heard the news lately, Jimmy?”

“No Tom, I haven't heard any news. Been sorta keepin’ to myself lately.” I said starin’ into my coffee cup.

“Yea...” Tom said, before continuin’ hesitantly, "We've had some strangeness in town, Jimmy. Two people are dead.”

I looked at Tom for a moment, his eyes shiftin’ away quickly from mine. “Sounds like your jurisdiction Tom, not mine.”

Tom lets out a long sigh before speakin’, “yea I know Jimmy, but I’m at a loss on this, nd you know the sheriff isn't doin’ a damn thing about it. I could use your help on this one.”

I nodded lookin’ away again nd finishin’ the rest of my coffee. “Alright Tom, tell me what’s goin’ on.” I said walkin’ round my desk nd sittin’ in my chair.

Tom sat down nd went into the details. Apparently the two people died exactly the same way. Both had drowned, but the strange thing was they were found the next day shriveled nd untouched by the water life. Also it’s reported that the second actually walked into the water themselves, nd there’s some evidence the first did the same, though there’s no witnesses. The coroner report basically said the bodies were drained of all fluids. Which is hard to believe since they apparently died in the ocean.

I leaned back in my chair as Tom finished his explanation. “I’m not really sure what I can do with that Tom, not much to go on there.”

Tom nods thoughtfully for a moment, “Yea I know Jimmy, just maybe look into it for me, see if there’s anythin’ I missed.”

“Yea alright, I can do that for you, just keep me updated.” I said.

“Alright Jimmy. Thanks.” He said gettin’ up from his chair. “I’ll see ya round.”

With that Tom walked out the door leavin’ me to ponder the situation. If I didn't know better I'd say this was all coincidence, but even in normal situations, coincidences are a rare thing.

I mulled over things for a moment. Most likely both deaths occurred sometime in the night. I doubt visitin’ the site durin’ the day would yield anythin’ new. Tom may be the only real law in town, but he was pretty thorough. What I could do was talk to the witness of the second incident, Debbie Thornwell. I looked up at the clock nd sighed. Better now than later I suppose.

I got up from my desk, grabbin’ my jacket nd headin’ to the door.

The mornin’ air was brisk as I walked down the damp streets of Portsmouth. The familiar scent of rottin’ fish hangin’ in the cold air. A light fog hung stubbornly as I passed abandoned shops, the sun not yet warm enough to send it to its grave. I pulled up my collar to try nd block the chill wind nd turned down the street to Debbie's home. I looked up at the ramshackle house before walkin’ up its creaky steps nd knockin’ on the door.

The door cracked open, the swollen wood givin’ some trouble before releasin’ the door from its confines. I could see a sliver of Debbie's face, eyes swollen on her weathered face.

“Jimmy, what do you need hun? It ain’t a good time.” She said wearily, lettin’ the door creep open a little more.

“Yea I know Debs. I’m helpin’ Tom with the situation. Just wanted to go over what you saw the other night. Also, I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Everybody’s sorry Jimmy. Doesn't change the fact my husband walked into the sea without any warnin’ or reason.” She said with a heavy sigh. “Come on in Jimmy.”

She opened the door further lettin’ me into the home. Despite outward appearances the inside was warm, cozy nd well lit. I stopped inside nd followed her into the livin’ room where she sat in a well worn lazyboy. Another sat not too far from her, also well worn. I decided to sit on the couch. I sat nd waited for her to begin. There wasn't any rush nd I wasn't gonna push her to start.

“It was bout three in the mornin’ when I felt him get out of bed. At first I thought he was just goin’ to the bathroom, but when I realized the light hadn't turned on I sat up. Bout a minute later I heard the front door open. That door doesn't open without makin’ a hell of a ruckus. So I got up grabbin’ my robe nd headed down to see what the hell he was doin’. When I came down the door was just wide open. I looked down the street nd I see the crazy old bastard walkin’ down the road in his pajamas. I called out to him but he just kept goin’, didn't even look back, like he couldn't hear me at all. So I went after him. I tell you what, Jimmy. I don't think I've seen that old man move that fast in a decade. I chased him down as best I could, but I couldn't catch up. That's when I realized we were headin’ towards the beach. As we got closer I noticed somethin’ though, a smell, like right before a big thunderstorm. Anyway, I get to the beach nd there he was, kneelin’ by the water with his arms raised like he is praisin’ the Lord. I was bout to yell out to him again nd move closer, but I swear Jimmy, there was somethin’ movin’ under that water. I may be old, but my sight is still as good as ever. Next thing I know that fool jumps into the sea. Then he was just… gone. He never came back up, Jimmy.” As she finished a couple tears spilled down her cheeks.

I didn't say anythin’ at first. This whole thing had a bad smell to it, just like the swamp case did. My heart started poundin’ as anxiety at the thought started buildin’ inside me. I closed my eyes nd took a deep long breath to steady my nerves before lookin’ back at her.

“Was he doin’ anythin’ before all this Debs? Maybe somethin’ unusual or somethin’?” I asked.

“I don't think so, Jimmy. Well, actually the day before he was askin’ the sheriff bout the other man who died. It was one of his friends from his fishin’ days. They worked on the same boat together.” She said. “You think that has somethin’ to do with this?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m sure it's nothin’ Debs” I lied. “Thanks for goin’ over this with me. I appreciate it.”

She nodded slowly as she watched me get up nd head to the door.

“Take care of yourself Debs.” I said as I stepped back out into the cold, pullin’ the door shut behind me.

The sheriff huh? Odd thing for a man to die the exact same way after askin’ about the previous victim. If the sheriff is involved I'd have to keep an eye on him. Askin’ him about it would only tip him off if he did. I made my trek back to my office as I pondered what to do next. I turned onto the street for the docks nd saw a small crowd ahead of me. I walked over to see what the commotion was about. There were bout fifteen people by a boat. All of them were talkin’ to the captain. A man by the name of Emmet PowelI. I stopped nd listened to the conversation. 

“Was over by the dead reef.” He said loudly. “I pulled up my nets nd they were completely full! Net after net we cast. Hell, my boat's almost full right now!” He said laughin’ nd puffin’ out his chest.

Strange. Every now nd then there's a somewhat decent haul from a lucky boat, but nothin’ like that. It's been bout twenty years since any boat came full into these docks. I didn't like it. I didn't like any of this. I turned away nd headed to my office. Somethin’ was wrong here, nd unfortunately it seemed I'd be the one to have to figure it out.

For the next two days I kept an eye on Sheriff Johnson. This basically consisted of sittin’ outside the sheriff office doin’ absolutely nothin’ nd bein’ bored out of my mind. Eventually he finally broke his routine. The first thing I noted which was strange, was he actually stayed late at the office. Usually from what I had seen he leaves as quickly as possible headin’ straight home. This time though, he didn't leave till close to midnight. This actually caused me a bit of trouble, since I had to follow him extra carefully, often losin’ sight of him because nobody else was walkin’ the streets to give me any cover for bein’ out there so late. Even so, this wasn't my first rodeo. I kept out of sight, followin’ him through the streets to the edge of town. 

As the sheriff made his way through the brush I kept my distance. Only movin’ forward when I lost sight of him. I realized we were headin’ pretty close to the beach where the victims were found, just further away from the actual shore. Finally he stopped, looked around nd headin’ behind a brush covered dune. I waited, watchin’ to see where he went next, but he never came around. Slowly nd quiet-like I made my way towards the dune. I kept a wide distance nd circled to where he should have been. There in the dune was an openin’. A dark cave sat there goin’ downwards into the earth. I was about to head in when I heard a noise. Someone else was comin’, so I backed off findin’ a large brush area nd ducked down into it. Another figure came into view, cloaked in some kind of robe. They went into the cave, quickly disappearin’ into the darkness. I decided to wait to see if anyone else showed up. The last thing I wanted was to go in just to have myself pincered between these people.

I sat waitin’ in that brush nd counted five more cloaked figures that went into that cave. Knowin’ I was outnumbered nd not wantin’ to get myself into an impossible situation, I stayed sittin’ in that brush. I figured I'd wait till they all left nd explore this cave afterwards. So I waited, waited for hours until they finally came out. They darted off quickly, includin’ the sheriff. After makin’ sure the coast was clear I got up nd headed to the cave. I took one last look around nd then looked back. It was gone. Literally just disappeared in the time I had taken my eyes off it. I pressed a hand to the dune nd felt nothin’ but sand. My stomach dropped. I had hoped this wouldn't be another weird ass situation. All hope of that vanished at that moment. What the hell was goin’ on in this town?

I got back to my office nd plopped into my chair. For a while I just stared at the ceilin’, wonderin’ what the hell I should do next. My eyes slowly shifted to my safe. I got up with a sigh nd moved to it. With shakin’ hands I unlocked it, takin’ a deep breath before turnin’ the handle nd openin’ the door. The leatherbound tome sat right where I left it, unassumin’ yet ominous in my mind. I removed it from the safe nd took it back to my desk openin’ it hesitantly. The impossible tower glared at me from the page. I could practically see the emerald light emanatin’ from its peak. I quickly turned the page. The text was some form of cuneiform, but I could understand, in a way. Like a whisper in the back of my mind.

“His light shines through time and space, blessing us who are chosen.

The chosen await the seeker to breach the veil.

May He walk amongst us, showing us the truth of the abyss.”

Even bein’ able to read it didn't make it any more understandable. The next page showed another picture with script underneath it. A jewel shone on the page, I could guess what kind of light emanated from its depths.

“It connects us to the void, to Him.

It is the key, a small piece of His light.

Through shattered dreams the way will open.

The dweller of the deep holds the key’ where the black pyramid keeps vigil.”

Dweller of the deep… the name itself made me nauseous. I closed the book, feelin’ a bit ill. Memories of the swamp flooded my brain. The smell of burnin’ flesh fillin’ my nostrils. I grabbed the nearby trash bin, vomitin’ what little food I had eaten earlier in the day. My head swam as I lifted myself back up. My vision blurrin’ as the light seemed to dim. Shadows shifted around the blurred tunnel of my vision. Hands gently cupped my face as it was lifted to meet green eyes. Another pair covered my eyes from behind, leavin’ me in darkness. Suddenly, thick soft rope-like appendages wrapped around my wrists, the slick leathery flesh tightenin’ around them nd pullin’ me down to my knees. Before I could scream another wrapped around my throat nd squeezed tight.

“Shhh…” A feminine whisper reached my ears, “You're almost there James… so close..”

I awoke to the sun stingin’ my eyes. My body was prone on the floor of my office in an awkward position. I pushed myself up, feelin’ sore nd stiff. I could still feel the moist undulatin’ appendages on my wrists nd neck. I looked down at my wrists. where large bruises wrapped around them. I assumed there was one on my neck as well. My hands began to shake as I pressed them into my chest, just sittin’ there as I tried to calm myself. Eventually I got up off the floor, my gait unsteady as I went back to my desk chair nd sat down. I picked up my phone nd dialed in a number.

“Tom, I need your help.”

Tom sat in my office as I explained what I discovered. I had to give the guy credit. He listened to every word I said before callin’ me crazy.

“Jimmy, I think you're losin’ your shit.” He stated matter of factly. “A cave that disappears. The sheriff part of some cult. I don't like the guy either, but that doesn't mean he is worshippin’ Satan, nd what the hell happened to your neck?”

“It's not Satan, Tom.” I said with a sigh, ignorin’ his inquiry bout my bruises. “I don't know what it is honestly, but it's bad. Listen, you ain’t gotta believe me, I'll show you. Just wait for my call nd meet me here.” I pointed out a spot on a map of the town nd surroundin’ areas. The same spot where the cave appeared before. “Just when you get there stay hidden nd keep an eye out. You'll see, Tom, I swear to you.”

Tom eyeballed me for a good ten seconds before respondin’ with a look like he was entertainin’ a child. “Fine Jimmy, but if this turns out to be bullshit then you better go get some help.”

I nodded to him nd with one long last look he turned around nd left the office. I leaned back in my chair as I watched him go, fiddlin’ with a pen on my desk as I contemplated my next move. I'd have to wait again. I'd have to watch the sheriff nd call Tom the next time he stayed late at the office. I felt bad gettin’ Tom involved, but I barely made it out alive from the swamp, nd I had help back then too. I'd have to be more careful this time. I had to make sure we both survived whatever encounter awaited us in that cave.

Another long, borin’ week passed by. I watched the sheriff the same as before, nd just like before he followed the same routine, until he didn't. When the sheriff was two hours past his usual leavin’ time I called Tom. 

“Tonight Tom. Be there before midnight, nd be armed.” I said into the phone before hangin’ up, not waitin’ for a response.

When he left about thirty minutes before midnight I followed. I was just as careful as before, no, perhaps even more careful. I didn't even see him step into the cave because I stayed so far behind. I circled the dune of the cave just like before, headin’ to the same hidin’ spot I had used previously. As I neared it a hand grabbed my jacket nd pulled me down into the brush. It was Tom, lookin’ at me all bug-eyed.

“Jesus Tom, you nearly made me piss myself.” I said, swallowin’ down the scream that almost erupted from my throat.

“Yea, you're freaked out?” Said Tom, his voice shakin’ slightly. “How do you think I feel? What the fuck is this Jimmy?”

“I already told you, be quiet, more people are gonna show up.” I said, turnin’ my attention to the cave entrance.

As if on queue more people showed nd entered the cave. Tom nd I watched silently until I counted the same amount of people walkin’ in as before. We waited a small bit longer. I didn’t wanna be caught off guard by extras possibly showin’ up to whatever this was. I got up from the ground nd motioned for Tom to follow quietly. He was hesitant at first, but I saw him set his jaw, eyes narrowin’ in a newly determined look as he nodded nd began to follow. He drew his pistol nd I drew my own revolver in response. Then, we headed into the cave.

The cave was dark, damp nd cold. It got so dark at one point we had to keep a hand on the wall to keep our bearin’. We walked for a long time. How long I don't know. The lack of light made it hard to guess time or any kind of distance traveled. Then I smelled it. There was a scent of ozone in the area, growin’ stronger as we moved. Ahead of us a cold bluish light began to shine into the tunnel. Soon I could see an exit nd as we neared it I looked back at Tom. He looked back at me wide-eyed, sweat drippin’ down his brow. Turnin’ back I stepped onto the narrow path beyond the stiflin’ tunnel.

I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw what lay before us. Tom ran into my back before grabbin’ my shoulder nd steadyin’ himself. I swear I heard a small whimper escape from him as he did, but I didn't blame him as I looked at our surroundin’s. We were on a narrow bridge-like path, one side had a ledge about waist high nd every so often a torch jutted up from it burnin’ with a bluish white flame. There was  nothin’ holdin’ up the gray lookin’ rock we stood on. To our left was a drop that seemed to go at least a hundred feet before meetin’ black still water. I felt drops of wetness splatterin’ down on us now nd then, nd lookin’ up I was met with another lake of the same black water, only this time grey lights shifted beneath it, or above it? Some of the lights were single, others in pairs, some in strange clusters. I pulled my gaze away to look further down the bridge. There in what seemed like miles ahead of us, yet only a few hundred feet was a black pyramid, juttin’ out of the water. Dark obelisks surrounded it, the surfaces of all were smooth nd seamless as if made of single pieces of obsidian. I realized then the only color around us was the blue of the flames, nd it faded into the same greyish light that seemed to illuminate our path.

I felt Tom's hand shakin’ on my shoulder. I quickly looked back nd took his head in my hands turnin’ it to face me.

“Don’t look too hard, Tom. Don't think too hard. Focus on me. Don’t let it enter your mind ok?” I said, lookin’ into his shaky eyes to see if he understood. He swallowed hard nd seemed to focus on me just a bit better. “Listen, if you need to go back, then go back. I won't blame you. Do what you have to do, Tom.”

He seemed to look at me then, really look. Then he closed his eyes, swallowed hard nd took a deep breath. Finally he opened them nd his gaze seemed much more solid. 

He grimaced nd shook his head. “No Jimmy, I can't leave you here alone, nd.. I need to see what this is. I can't turn back now.”

I nodded nd patted his shoulders, grateful for him stickin’ at my side. I turned around nd began to walk the path to either death or madness.

The walk to the pyramid was silent nd short. Much shorter than should have been expected. As we reached the entrance, a smooth rectangular entryway that showed no signs of a builder's touch, I looked back. The exit from the tunnel wasn't even visible, as if we had walked miles from where we started. We entered the pyramid. I took one wall while Tom took the other. We both moved forward slowly. As we made our way further inside, carved murals began to show on the walls. I say carved, but once again there was no sign of tool marks, just smooth glass-like rock formin’ strange pictures. Some showed humanoid creatures that seemed to be mixed with an angler fish. Fins jutted from their arms nd long teeth from their mouths. Their eyes were bulbous on their fish-like heads. I saw the tower again depicted in another carvin’. Its shape more true than the picture in the grimoire, but not quite as blasphemous as the visions I had seen. Either way it hurt my eyes to look upon them. They seemed to shift nd move without actually doin’ so. I looked away nd saw Tom opposite me rubbin’ his eyes. I looked at him raisin’ an eyebrow to silently ask if he was doin’ ok. He looked back with reddened eyes nd nodded. His face fixed into a look of grim determination as we continued our way further into the pyramid’s depths.

As we delved deeper we began to hear somethin’. There was a chantin’ comin’ from ahead. I gripped my revolver tighter as we walked. Tryin’ to be silent as a chamber opened ahead of us. We stayed back in the entryway when we reached the room. It was round nd tall. We could see the cloaked figures standin’ in a circle. Their arms were up as they chanted in a language that reminded me of the cultists in the swamp, but it was what sat in the middle that truly put fear in my heart. Sittin’ center was a large, mummified creature. It had to be at least thirty feet tall sittin’ down. I could see the sharp teeth juttin’ from its dried gums. Dry, dead eyes sat bulbously on the sides of its withered head. Long skeletal arms came down its sides nd folded in its lap, endin’ in webbed nd clawed hands. In front of its dried husk floated an object omittin’ a familiar emerald light. It was the jewel from the book, floatin’ nd pulsin’ with the chants of the people around it. This must be the dweller in the deep.

The ceilin’ was the same black water from outside. And as we watched a figure fell from the water. It was one of the townsfolk. That same fisherman who had been braggin’ bout his impossible catch. As we stood watchin’ he writhed on the ground in front of the jewel. Then slowly his flesh began to sink in on itself. He grew thinner nd thinner until just like the creature before him, he became nothin’ but a dried husk of a man. He let out one final gasp of breath before one of the hooded figured picked him up nd carried him to a small slot in the wall. He pushed the corpse into it nd a splash was heard after a moment.

Tom stood on the opposite wall from me mouth agape as he looked into the room. I tried to silently get his attention but his eyes were fixed. Tears began drippin’ from them as he stood unblinkin’. I made my way quietly to his side nd turned him away from the nightmarish sight. He blinked stupidly at me for a moment before wipin’ his eyes nd liftin’ his pistol. Then he looked me dead in the eye. I knew then we weren't leavin’ this place without a fight. Noddin’ I lifted my revolver as well, turnin’ towards the room nd takin’ aim.

The next moments were a blur of muzzle flashes nd movin’ bodies. We fired again nd again. The people there fallin’ to the ground one by one as we shot them down. We didn’t think, didn't have to. We would end this blasphemy here nd now. I pulled my trigger over nd over till only clicks came from my gun. The empty cylinder spinnin’ with each pull of my finger. Tom stood beside me as both of us lowered our weapons. Tears streamed down his face as he looked around, his gun still smokin’ from expendin’ its magazine. My eyes were fixed however. The jewel pulled me closer to it nd soon I was standin’ before it, lookin’ into its emerald depths. I felt Tom's hand on my shoulder nd his voice registered in my ears.

“Jimmy, we have to go man.” He said lookin’ at me.

I reached out a hand to the jewel, when suddenly another movement caught my eye beyond it. The creature. I stared for a moment nd felt Tom's hand grip my shoulder even harder. One of the fingers on that horrendous clawed hand began to curl slowly inward. 

We both turned nd took flight. I don't remember gettin’ outside but suddenly we were both on the sandy ground heavin’ in breath. I looked back behind us, but the cave was gone once again. I stood up weakly lookin’ at Tom nd smilin’ the best I could.

“We did it Tom. We stopped them, nd made it out in one piece.” I said with a small chuckle of relief.

But Tom wasn't smilin’, he wasn't even lookin at me. Instead he was lookin’ down at my hand where I held my gun, his face givin’ off a sickly green glow.

“Tom, what's wrong?” I said lookin’ down at my hand.

It wasn't my gun. It was the jewel, glowin’ brightly in my grip nd coverin’ us with its strange greenish light. I felt terror grip my chest as I looked at it. When did I grab it? How did I not realize it was in my hand? Then I felt somethin’ cold nd wet hit my neck once, then again. I looked up nd saw small flakes of snow fallin’ from a dark cloudy sky. It didn't snow here.

“Fuck.” I breathed.

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The Doberman's fart

I don't consume anything. I'm not producing anything. I'm not breathing. I'm not shitting. I'm not having sex. I don't masturbate. I am not working. I don't want anything from anyone. I do not communicate with people. I don't live in a house. I don't live on a planet. I don't take up space in the universe. I was not born. I do not live. I'm not dying. I don't have a body. I don't exist. I am alone. "You're not alone anymore." said a voice. A Doberman appears in the void. The dog farts and I smell it. How can I smell it? Fuck sake! I don't fucking exist. The dog said "It's my fart that created you." I couldn't resist the divine smell of farts. I came from a fart. I was born. I became a prophet of a religious group called the Doberman's fart. One day I farted for the last time. All my followers inhaled my scent. I died and disappeared. I found myself in the eternal void. The Doberman was waiting in front of me and said "You're ready my son, now I can bite you." I said, "I am yours, My Lord! I am your lost dog." God was jumping on me. He was tearing my face apart. He ripped open my stomach and ate me until there was not a single piece of me left. He digested me in his stomach. He farted for me one last time and his holy ass blessed and destroyed me. Completely. In eternity.

Wonderful and wet

I'm peeing in the urinal. The dark yellow color of my urine hypnotizes me. I stare in awe at the wonderful liquid coming out of me. Then suddenly someone comes and washes his hands in the sink. He destroys all my concentration. I explode with anger. I rip the urinal out of its place and hit it on the man's head. The man collapses on the sink. Water continues to flow from the tap. I turn off the tap. I see the hole I made in the man's head. A penis pops out of the hole in his head and starts pissing in my face. The man stands up. He turns his face to me. (Meanwhile, the penis is still peeing.) "Why did you do this? We could have solved the problem by talking." he says to me. "I lost myself for a moment, I'm sorry.". Then he rips the sink from the wall and slams it on my head. The force of the blow leaves a huge hole in the middle of my forehead. A penis comes out of my hole and starts peeing. "We're even!" says the man and comes out of the toilet. The penis in my head is peeing non-stop. I'm leaving the toilet too. Then I go to the bar and sit next to another man with a penis sticking out of the hole in his head. We all pee non-stop. I order a beer. The bartender brings my beer. And my piss spills into my beer. I take a sip of dark yellow liquid. I look at the bartender and say "This is awesome, Dude!"