Pouring in. That’s what I did. I did not walk, I did not drive, I did not do anything else to arrive at this place. I simply fell into where I needed to be. I didn’t realize it at first, but then, after what seemed like a millennia, I opened my eyes, and all I could see was the white and grey of the industrial wastelands, the pipes and the chains and the nondescript buildings. I could not see inside, but I knew that these went to terrible engines, ones not meant for us to know. You could hear them rumbling beneath, the slow, methodical gurgling of concealed machinery, occasionally pierced through with loud metallic clangs that signified the worst. There was no escape from this, I knew immediately, but that did not stop me from running, around and around and around, circling the park, circling back, circling my new, abhorrent domain. And as the creeping feeling set in, as I understood my plight, a solitary door opened. I could not see or hear it, but I was drawn to it anyway. Out of the way, one of the millions of buildings all alike, could have easily escaped notice. But I walked right to it. I went inside, and wish I hadn’t.
Lingering shadows from invisible parts to nowhere drew across the scene. The chair, the window, the button. All the things you need in this life, or the next. I could see naught but a box in the next room, an imposing granite slab in a blank void. No wires, no lights, but I could see it clear as day, and I knew: this box needed to die. I sat down, and without prompting, I pressed the button.
Eternity passed until soft cries emerged, and were silenced with another press. Again, and again, the cries grew louder each time, and were suppressed. It was a pleasing tone to me. A smile crept across my face as the realization dawned: this was a person. The poor soul was in the box, experiencing agony, and I was in joy with the ecstasy, the delight of pain, the infliction of suffering. It was musical.
And then I remembered the look on her face as we stood over the anthill. She kneeled, pawed at the mound, and as the ants scurried along, hoping to escape, she lazily slapped her hands down, splattering a dozen, several dozen, the queen, hundreds, thousands, the lives of these things of no consequence. She had the same look I now had, one of sheer delight as the gruesome machines whirred, as I killed this person over and over, each time a new and more imaginative means, but all the same result.
She was beaming, and I was laughing, and the man was screaming, and we were all going to the same place. The blood started to seep from beneath the unseen door to the slab, the smearing of countless lives crushed, the gore of sentience, of thoughts and feelings and emotions and idle fancies, now a crimson pool. I needed to make the pool bigger, I needed it to become an ocean, then a world, then a universe of suffering, all the filth and disease and happiness of life to become a new dimension of pain.
Endless suffering befell all. I did not know who was screaming anymore, but it didn’t matter. This was the fate that would come to all of us, and I must hasten the cataclysm. The cries were so loud, you could hear them over the machinery underneath, and then over the world, and then they were in every pore, every molecule ringing with their beautiful melody of torment. This must not end.
Wailing, gnashing, howling, the senses beheld this majesty with delectation. I didn’t hear the door open behind me, but the hand on my shoulder shook me from my reverie. “It’s your turn,” the man said.
Alighting from the chair, I threw myself into it. This is all I wanted. The pain, the pain, the pain, the PAIN THE PAIN THE PAIN THIS IS ALL I WANTED PLEASE MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Katabasis refers to a descent, an immersion into the underbelly. It’s frequently used in religious contexts, or in psychology for deep probing of the subconscious. Dante’s Inferno, Virgil’s Aeneid, your death. This is all well and good. You join the others soon.
Emerge, young souls, for your death awaits, and it is glorious! You will be washed in the sins of your fathers, and they will cleanse your rotten souls. This is the time of joy, for the appointed hour comes, and your flesh will serve as the gristle for a new age, the lard of your fats will provide succor, your eyes will see the coming of a new dawn with their last glimpse! Come!
Under the machine, the cavern awaits
It has been foreseen, this is your fate
The thought is quite obscene, but don’t be late
The path there is byzantine, and will not abate
Do not dare desecrate this holy space, I know your heart is full of hate
The internecine shroud, holy death, please, undulate
Your maker will castigate, you are the subordinate
And death incapacitates, we are the Rejuvenates
Please please please please please please I must I must I must I am I will I was I die I live I kill I suffer I attack I defend I scream I cry I smile I laugh I
I see it now. The glory of life. All the stars above. The light from distant suns illuminates my folly. I was so foolish.
It is done.
And then I woke up. That’s why I called you. We need to active the Project. My dream proves it.
Yes. I know what this means.
They are coming.
Enumeration of Souls
- Sic humor
- April LKD
- Tiff Aching
- Mars Five
- Sister Jude
- Lamb Dance
- Lord Stoneheart
- Nuka Fanta
- Louie Blue
Ascendance will occur on Friday the 2nd of July at 10 AM Pacific