As the skies lit up like day, the thunder rolled in the hills, the cave was the best place for something as dark as this to occur. They brought her here after the suspicions were correct; they had to be very correct in this, for it would mean the end of the way of life, as they knew it.
Dark rumors spread throughout the villages and the inhabitants were waiting for the air to give way. Tension was high; you could not slice it, no matter what was tried. All the times in the dark spaces nothing at all ever came close to what they were going to experience. No one knew what they were in for.
The spaces between the dimensions where the dark things live, they were waiting for this to take place, the spaces are breathing in and out as if waiting for the eruption to occur. Mighty gods and lords of darkness prevail in these dismal abysses, we only hear of them through the shrieking winds of time.
She came to their village many years ago as a child, motherless and starving, nobody came to claim her. The shaman told the tribes that gathered that something ominous was going to happen sometime in the future, they laughed at him and went on their way. They are not laughing now.....
There was a mysterious something about her, no one could place it, but they knew it was there. As she grew up and matured it got stronger, this... this feeling .....one night in the seasons of storms she left the tribe by herself and wondered for many days on her own, no food no shelter, just her.
The skies opened up and blackness leaked out and dripped down into her body taking possession of her. It leaked into each and every pore, and cell into every atom in her body. When this was taking her body over the tribe felt immense power in the winds and heard the tales spun by the howlers of the dark.
The trance the shaman was in lasted for days, not hours like it used to.
No one was sure of what was to happen, so they made sure whatever they believed in was stable, and secure, and good for them, the foundations upon which they believed were to be ripped away and perhaps never to return again.
The lords of darkness entered her body, ravaging it cell by cell, intercourse was never like this, she wailed in pain and pleasure, as they went into her. Erupting deep inside her in the womb of intense darkness and screams, they had never known anything like this before, pleasure was felt by all who entered her.
Leaving her, they went away as they came in a storm of blackness and wind, with screams that make you forget that god ever existed.
Many months have now passed and the lonely one is gone again, the shaman and tribespeople know that this is the end of the world, as they know it; they wait, knowing that nothing can be done about it. She treks through the wilderness being pulled along by an invisible leash leading her somewhere in this barren dark landscape.
They lead her to a bleak desolate cave in which beings of darkness like apparitions are over her, laying her down on the huge rock, unlike anything she has ever seen before.
There is foul-smelling smoke in one corner, she is being prepared for something, not really sure she goes along with it, there is nothing else she can do.
They give her something to drink, this makes her a wee bit drowsy, but not unaware, these wraith-like visions surround her waiting for something.
Outside the winds are howling, the sea is crashing in the distance, the sky is black with no stars at all shining through, the most intense storm is about to arrive. She is getting hotter and hotter, her abdomen is swelling and is so very painful, something is clawing to get out.
She breaths faster and faster, the faster she breaths the faster the wind blows the more intense the thunder and lightning.
It opens up a door for the father to arrive to take the baby as she is being delivered the dark lords and lurker at the threshold applaud for she had given birth to a storm
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
Happy Halloween. A volume of Horrible Haunts & Twisted Tales taken from the horror books La Belle Rouge has written every October for a decade and a half. If you have read her works in the horror genre, you know the invitation is for you to enjoy thr
