The Beast in Man's Flesh!
Greetings once again most valued reader! Yes it is true I, the great Sammal Ynand have returned from my travels with more tales of the lost and damned! In my last trip I went far beyond the known lands and out into the blasted north. My Last tale was found in the ruins of old Kallash, but from there I travelled east along the river Praig to a small Village, by that same name.
When I arrived I discovered that they had very little in the way of knowledge when it came to magick, viewing it all to be demon worship. Apparently their god Thandos viewed magick as evil, their Village Thane told me one story about when he was a lad and I present it to you today, I name it ‘The Beast in Man’s Flesh’…
* * *
The cold northern wind crept through the reeds where we all hid; the half moon was high in the sky above us, occasionally peaking out from between the clouds as if the moon goddess Isharra too hid with us upon the banks of the River Praig. It had been six nights since the travellers had arrived at the sign of the Black Cat. There in the Inn they had stayed. Six nights and five children had gone missing, we, the men of the village tracked them down to this spot. I was only young then, having only just seen eighteen harvests, but was still considered a man, but I do not think it unmanly of me to admit that there hiding in those reeds watching what went on before me I was scared, we all where. Even brave Fallagro, then the Thane, was wiping the sweat from his brow.
We had all heard about the evils of witch craft from brother Dainotto, the wise priest of Thandos, our great lord, but we had never thought that we would have to face the demon worshippers ourselves, but they had came and our faith was strong and so we waited in the reeds for the signal of our Lord Thane.
Brother Dainotto held his symbol of Thandos close to his chest. I remember the silver and gold rings linked together upon a platinum chain jingled slightly as he prayed; prayed for our souls, the souls of our young ones who they had snatched and he also prayed for our victory. I could hear it in his voice and see in how he held the symbol close to his chest that even he in his incorruptible faith was scared.
Before us an ordinary, yet ominous, mist had slowly rolled lazily inwards, concealing much of what was taking place from our eyes; I griped my woodcutting axe in both hands and tried to steady my breathing. Before us, about twenty-five feet away worked the Demon Worshipers, lighting a circle of blasphemous candles, the wind blowing their black robes and cowls about as they did this. Two of the six cultists did nothing, one looked like all the others, but it was obvious in how she walked that she was the female of the group that we had seen in the Village, the second we knew to be their leader for he wore no cowl and his lank hair and gaunt face with its’ haunted eyes where there for all to see.
“Oh great lord Thandos, protect us from evil…”
Brother Dainotto’s near silent whisperings seamed like a beacon to me and I hung on to his every word as his prayers, now a near mantra, continued.
“…we are your sons Lord Thandos protect us from evil.”
The ring of candles had been lit and the four cultist who had lighting them took their places around it. The leader took his place at their head forming the five fingers of Frenia, the trice cursed goddess of magick. The woman had yet to take up a position in the circle of burning candles yet, she just passed a small, thick book to the leader who opened it up and started to read, shouting his words to the sky.
“Frenia! Solloshia! Goddesses of Magick! Both Earth Bound and not! To this place I call you to bear witness!”
At this the other four spoke their reply as if it was a mockery of the well rehearsed plays that Bards preformed on the rare occasions they arrived at the village.
“We who are yours first and only call you to bear witness!”
Almost as if in reply the flames of the candles one by one in a strange chain, altered into a putrid green which seamed to stain the air around them like powdered earth in a bowl of water. The four cultists held up their arms to the sky as their leader continued to read with more vigour. It was at this moment that we noticed that all the cultists except the woman wore a silver glove upon their left hand.
“I welcome you Frenia to this circle! I greet you Solloshia, the earth bound spirit to this circle!”
The woman, as this was spoken, in one fluid movement let her robes drop to the ground and stepped into the middle of the circle, the moon peering out from behind a deep dark cloud to allow her light to glimmer off the woman’s body. Once she was in the circle the leader drew a weirdly curved dagger. So strange and wrong where the daggers curves that none of us afterwards could agree upon its’ appearance, I saw it in the shapes of the sea waves, Brother Dainotto saw it as having many tips like a pitch fork, the Thane saw it greatly twisted like the corkscrew the old, fat, barkeep used to open the wines, and yet we all agreed that it hurt to look upon it for too long almost as if it could bore a hole in your skull without even touching you should you continue to stare upon it’s fluid curves.
The head cultist raised the dagger high into the sky, as he did this the woman flopped to the ground and like a forest of trees being hewed the arms of the other four cultists unexpectedly dropped. All five, started to ring the tainted green candles canting to whatever demonic forces they worshipped. I would not tell you the words they screamed that night even if I could pronounce them for they seamed like no words of this earth, but called out to us from beyond. At those words a shiver ran down the spines of all gathered there and we found our limbs frozen in a gripping, emasculating terror that left us wanting to turn our heads away from the sight before us but unable to do so. It was as if those profane words they where screaming had robbed us of our bodies!
The cultists stopped their patrolling and screaming as a red mist started to form in the middle of the circle, the head cultist thrust into the circle with the dagger and roared at the mist as if his very existence counted upon it.
“Gneeakal I summoned you here! Gneeakal I bind you here! Gneeakal I command you here!”
The red mist seamed to shriek back at the cultist and one tendril of its’ insubstantial self gripped around the daggers blade and it was not long before it shattered into a great number of slight needle like shards which swirled around inside the circle, the naked female body in the middle started to rise up as if the bestial mist was lifting her off the ground. I attempted to close my eyes at what happened next but I could not, still was the control of my limbs robbed from me. The demonic mist did tears the silver gloved hands from each of the Cultists yet they did not react in pain as blood flowed from the wound, instead they cried in ecstasy. The mist burned closed the wounds with a bright flash of burning white light ceasing its follower’s pleasure before continuing.
The needle shards from the dagger sliced into the woman’s flesh and she did awake with such a scream that ripped us from our horrified stupor, we looked to each other and knew the time was right, we threw ourselves out of the reeds and at the Cultists, the head cultist turned to us and shouted something, a warning, I could not hear him over the wailing of the woman as her flesh was pealed, chunk by chunk, off her body by the needles.
Brother Dainotto started to yell banishment at the demon mist inside the circle in Thandos' name but quickly fell to the ground dead, blood running from his eyes and ears, the symbol of Thandos still clutched in his lifeless fist! The head cultist yelled to the others to hold the circle, but his words where cut off by the Thanes’ throwing axe striking him in the side of the head, his body flopped forward knocking over several candles. At this the half skinned female body dropped to the ground and the mist dispersed.
The four remaining Cultists drew daggers and hurled themselves at us, I swung my axe downwards at one striking him in the right shoulder, and he fell to the ground, clutching the wound mewling pathetically. My older brother Manicen ran forward to finish him off for me as I turned my back to join the others in checking the bodies.
We had won or so we thought. I turned back at the sound of my brother screaming in terror to see the last of his flesh being pealed off by the Mist, it was working faster this time, two of the older hunters tried to aid my brother but they fell to the ground much like Brother Dainotto.
The flesh of my brother started to wrap its’ self around the Mist and before long it was wearing my brother’s flesh like clothes, the corpses on the ground then actually started to quiver and move. They jolted about as if they where having some kind of fit and before my sickened eyes the cultist I had just slain rose up and started to attack me again! This time however it did not try to use its ceremonial dagger, instead it threw its’ self at me with the strength of Unsandee the god of the dead himself!
Before the onslaught of the living dead four of us died, this left only me, the Thane and two others. We did the only thing we could and I am not ashamed to admit it, but we fled. There was no way we could fight corpses that just got back up no matter how badly we hewed into them and for every one of us who fell the creature masquerading in the flesh of my older brother just raised them back like the others.
* * *
We returned the next morning with mercenaries from the nearby city of Pyronis, but all that remained was the burnt out candles and the bodies of the fallen. All the cultists and our own fallen where accounted for. The skin of my brother was found a few miles away along side a skinned body of a Thandosian Priest, we believe this to be Brother Dainotto, although he has not been seen since that day.
You ask me whether I think the demon still walks about in mortal flesh, to that I would answer yes. I am an old man now and have seen many harvests, but I have never experienced horror like that night, so young bard heed my words when I say do not go looking for the beast in man’s flesh, only death will it bring you, or worse, the images of somebody being flayed before you very own eyes haunting you when you sleep!
And so much loved reader there you have it, then end of today’s’ tale of horror and death. Although it has been edited in places by yours truly I swear upon my Bard’s Honor that what I have written here is nothing but the truth as I was told it. I traced the Beast from city to city but have been able to gather much more information than was written here. So until we meet again most dearly loved reader, beware the Beast in Man’s Flesh!
Until we meet again,
Sammal Ynand
_________________
Don't fail to see Nyarlathotep if he comes to Providence. He is horrible — horrible beyond anything you can imagine — but wonderful. He haunts one for hours afterward. I am still shuddering at what he showed.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtan"
(In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu lies dreaming.)
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