The Blood Moon

We put so much significance on the phase of the moon and the position of the stars. Even in our enlightened, scientific time, we recognize that there are things so infinite out there that learning just one of the secrets of the universe could elevate our species as a whole. 

Last night was one of those times, with all eyes upon the ‘blood moon eclipse’, and I must admit I was apprehensive about the event myself.  With so many strange things happening around me, I feared that this lunar occurrance would somehow trigger an escalation of events. I began imagining portals being opened, dark shadows encroaching upon my home, shrieks of terror and that horrible, discordant piping filling the air. I imagined terrible answers to all my unspoken questions; answers that would surely drive any sane man to madness. 

At sundown I began my preparations, re-enforcing certain sigils and symbols at my threshholds, burning certain herbs and lighting  candles of specific colors. I then retreated to my bedroom and, after drawing all the shades and re-checking my protective wards, I sat waiting. I would not sleep, no – so certain was I that something would happen, that this eclipse would trigger some sequence of terrible events, I refused to sleep. 

I watched the small red digital clock slowly chonicling the passage of time, one minute after the next. My ears were sharp, listeing for anything out of the ordinary, ready. As I sat and listened, though, I realized that maybe it was the quiet that was the true threat – there was no sound, no scratching, no creaking floorboards. Everything was just silent, barring my breathing and the occasional car passing by outside. 

 At midnight I felt that the danger had passed – the eclipse was complete and the moon returned to normal, after all, but then my mind begin to play tricks. What if that’s what they are waiting for? What if the eclipse was a catalyst to set things in motion, but those things would take more time to unfold? What if the things were there, in the dark, watching me with red-rimmed eyes, waiting anxiously for me to finally let down my guard and sleep. 

My eyes were burning from the effort of staying awake as I saw the first rays of morning sun begin to lighten the drawn shades. Still I sat, listening to my breathing, feeling eyes on me, feeling an unnatural chill that probably wasn’t there. My mind was in overdrive, all the shadows and shades and sounds and terrors of the past years all latching on and dragging down my rational thoughts like a drowning man lashing out and pulling down his rescuer. 

 My head is more clear now and it is obvious that nothing happened last night. The moon was just a rock floating through space, orbiting our somewhat larger rock as a shadow passed across it’s glowing face. This action was merely common astrophysics and, in the light of a new day, it is clear to me that the eclipse had no greater significance to whatever malevolence is out there in the darkness than any other night, than any other moon. Our comings and goings matter not to these beings – I have felt the terrible indifference myself, carried on black leathery wings through eons of dream.     

I will try to sleep now, for a short time at least. I hope that I do not dream. 

 

Keys

The dream came suddenly and my senses were jarred by the switch from black nothingness to waves of heat and a rancid smell.  I was barefoot on hot, rocky ground, and the sky was full of ash – I felt hot cinders bounce off my skin.  There were hints of high, discordant piping noises carried on the wind as it blew across my face, the sound making my skin crawl.

I walked towards a shadow, wavering in the heat, just at the edge of my vision.  I kept walking closer, but the shadow didn’t seem to be getting closer, it kept wavering just at the edge.   I walked and walked, the piping making my head hurt, the hot wind drying and stinging my eyes… Continue reading

The Man from the Dream

Sleep has been fleeting as of late – the infernal scratching and other noises keep waking me up, or else dark dreams disturb my restless mind.  That’s why last night was such a strange and, dare I say, welcomed change.  I fell asleep early, dozing on the couch almost before darkness fell, then roused myself enough to climb up the stairs and drop into bed.  I didn’t perform any of my typical nightly rituals or invoke my standard charms, yet I still slept deeply and, instead of the dark twisted dreams that typically haunt my nights, I recall simpler and calmer imaginings.

In the dream I found myself walking down Benefit street on a sunlit afternoon.  The street was filled with people, but they were dressed strangely, in very formal clothes that seemed more appropriate to a previous century, with high necked dresses on the women and formal suits and hats on the gentlemen.  It was a cheerful scene and, as I walked along the tree-lined streets I found myself feeling more at ease than I had felt in months.  Continue reading

The Rain Keeps Falling…

It’s spring now, at least according to the calendar.  I’ve spent a lot of time indoors, between the biting cold and the rain and sleet, just sitting and reading, surrounded by stacks of books.  I read until my eyes ache, drinking wine, sometimes listening to music.  The books and music are practically random, not tied to any specific topic or genre any longer – I just pick something up and start reading it; it could be a Harry Dresden book, or a book on birdwatching, or some ancient tome written in Latin or Lemurian – it doesn’t matter any more, I just need something to keep my mind engaged, keep me focused so my thoughts do not wander.  When thoughts wander there have been… negative consequences.

I still need to sleep, however, and when I sleep, I still dream.  I have my evening rituals, my sigils and spells and candles to protect me from the black wings and the madness and the pipers.  I can still have ‘normal’ dreams though – the things in my subconscious can still spill out before my eyes as I drift to sleep, and my own thoughts and twisted memories can still torment me and drive me mad as I embrace that cursed slumber.

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The Broken Wards

Every night before bed, before sacrificing myself to the gulf of limitless dream, I have a ritual.  There are wards – symbols and sigils and herbs known to only a few, only spoken about in books that should have been lost to the pyres of darkest history.  The Gellspachen, the Uurza, burned leaf of Tinzane, the sigils of lost Lemuria.  They are known to me, oh yes – they have come to me in dreams, or sent by other travelers who have come to know me.  The wards are powerful – they make the very air hum with their power, yes – and they have kept me safe for these long months.  Safe from harm, safe from ‘other’, safe from the black wings and the piping and the gate…   Safe

Last night sleep came fitfully, I tossed and turned and sweat drenched the sheets as I was swallowed by black and venomous dreams.  I felt the pull, felt hot winds blowing across my skin and sharp rocks under my feet as I walked, disoriented, uncertain of where I was.  I heard a sickening hum that filled my head with cold writhing tendrils that made me shriek.  I looked upon the black stone landscape and my eyes burned with the wrongness of it all. Continue reading

Video – kitchen event, bar stools, cold spots.

We were asleep and heard strange sounds coming from downstairs – really strange sounds, not like anything we’ve heard before.  After all that’s happened lately, we barely even wake up for things like creaking floors or slamming doors any more, but this was very different.  I was scared, genuinely scared when I crept downstairs, and what I saw was… bizarre.

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More nighttime problems, possible progress on the spell book

Last night was bad again – I don’t know what triggers it, but the dreams came to me, dark and terrifying.  I remember the soldier again, standing in that terrifying, blasted dreamscape, beckoning to me through the grey smoke and hot winds.  I woke up screaming again, frightening Wendy something awful, and  then we realized all the lights in the house were on – they were definitely off when we went to bed.  We didn’t get much sleep after that, so I was looking through the strange book, ‘Liber Sacramentis Extra Portam’, trying to translate what I could and understand more of what’s in it.

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