Embers in an Ebon Shroud

The Void
JP with Lorem and Omni

Gonyaul paid close attention to the facial expressions, giving them the charity that perhaps they had reason of their own to convey. After being exposed to their antics for what felt like a long time he deduced that they were but puppets. They neither reacted to him or proactively tried to get him to react. He observed they merely were designed to be a mockery to his sense of sight at the least and at the best a means to inspire fear. Gonyaul grew tired of their games, he was neither swayed to be scared nor irritated. In fact, he felt pity for them as he watched their endless contorting and vulgar ridicule.

When time no longer seemed to matter, Gonyaul had started to get up. His intention was to find a way out of this dark abyss and into a more pleasant dreamscape; or to awaken. It was when he started to depart when he recognized a shift in the atmosphere and a barrage of whispers meant to impede his actions.

Gonyaul froze and took in his surroundings carefully. It was like staring into the dark with your eyes closed. It was undeniable; however, that something this way was coming. Gonyaul deduced it must be his guest; the feeling of hopelessness was lingering in the air like a heavy humidity.

The vaux paused and then fluidly took his meditative seat again. Shortly thereafter he started to make some sense of a silhouette revealing itself across from him. It was a safe distance away based on its apparent size, but then again that was a guess.

Gonyaul signed a formal greeting of welcome. “I was hoping you would come visit me again.”

Two fiery slits opened into the darkness. They glowed as bright as embers. The scent of sulfur and ash wafted toward Gonyaul, filling his senses. It was stifling his throat and made his eyes water.

The totem faces twisted into more pronounced agony, their expressions bending and warped by intense heat. The atmosphere around Gonyaul grew colder despite the fire and smoke. The imposing presence, no its infernal eyes open, still lurked, waiting in silence.

A skittering and chittering sound filled the air, and soon a swarm of various large insects crawled toward Gonyaul from the direction of the figure. He remained seated, resolute, as the insects began to climb all over him.

Gonyaul’s face clearly displayed his discomfort from the toxic smells. Even though he knew it was but a dream, it seemed so real; a mind that had not devoted its life to meditating in the void, as the Vaux called the deep state of inward journeying, would have been lost to the illusion. Though the rank smells remained and his eyes were visibly watering alongside his nose running, Gonyaul did not waver from his spot.

If that wasn’t bad enough, the temperature plummeted. His breath was now visible and goosebumps rallied to his defense to try and keep him warm. He was shivering and had to clench his jaws to keep them from starting to chatter. These additional unnatural effects were a testimony to the powerful corruption before him. Yet Gonyaul still remained unmoved.

Finally, his ears were agitated by the horrible sound of aggressive insects. The sight of them was worse then their noise. For the first time Gonyaul looked unsure and flinched into a gradual repulsed lean backwards. He had experienced many a bite and sting in his lifetime, from a variety of creepy crawlers, and these looked far worse. His eyes whined as they drew closer and closer. Inwardly, he really hoped his conjecture was correct.

It took a lot of resolve to sit back straight and remain put as the bugs neared. His left hand reached out and drew something in the dirt like ground they were sitting on. It was a curved line with the Vauxian symbol “stop”. His hope was that the insects would heed his command; the ancient one was powerful, but this was still his dream as long as he didn’t hand over ownership.

Gonyaul’s heart raced as they got closer to the line. He turned his eyes away from them though and gazed back at the ancient one with a look that showed ‘shall we dispense with the games’. Was this young Vaux actually sizing up the Ancient One with how he looked him up and down and then stared it right in its infernal eyes; more with a sense of curiosity than disgust.

The Ancient One seemed to snarl at Gonyaul’s symbol, though Gonyaul felt it rather than saw it. Its eyes seemed to bore into him, looming ever closer. The bugs stopped at the mark, but others began to go around it, crawling up his body, biting and pinching as they went. The insects swarmed over him, their bites stinging and their claws scratching.

Gonyaul’s hopes rose, like a little flame dancing in the wind. The bugs had stopped. Wait! The good feeling was quickly snuffed out as an unnerving sensation poured down his spine and into his limbs.

The bugs were going around the line he had drawn. He felt very foolish for his error and his eyes widen in fear at the now unpreventable swarm. His meditative stance held at first, but then came the biting and stinging. It was unbearable and painful. Some of the bites just hurt on contact and others radiated inflammation around the sting. Gonyaul stood up and began doing his best to wipe and remove the insects from his person. He was shouting his discomfort in a series of pitch like screams.

Try he might, whenever he removed any, more took its place. He could almost feel the dark figure looming at him derive satisfaction from his troubles. Gonyaul could feel swelling beginning to take place, numbness in some areas, paralysis in others, and burning that continued to intensify. As he was covered, his mouth shut to keep any from assaulting him there.

Gonyaul eventually stumbled and fell prone to the ground. All that was left to see was a large mass of unnatural insects swarming his body. Gonyaul’s thrashing began to slow and then ceased completely. It was unclear if his body had been overwhelmed with the assault or if his mind had chosen to detach itself from minding the pain anymore.

The human shaped mound of skittering insects began to slowly move, after a sickening amount of time, until it resembled a swarming figure of vile carapaces in an unstable and perpetually gyrating meditative seated position. He wasn’t waking though, instead he was desperately clinging to staying asleep.

Meanwhile, inside the hut prison, the sleeping form of Gonyaul was thrashing, wincing, and making a cacophony of noises orchestrated by fear. Sweat made his hair and simple garments cling to his form.

Eventually, the insects in their skittering swarms made away from Gonyaul, who only knew a searing pain that was worse than all the stings and tattoos he had experienced in the past. He couldn't close his eyes, because he had no eyelids, and as his eyes flashed wildly around, he could see that the insects had eaten away the outer layers of flesh. The ancient one, in its ebon shroud stood heavily and though Gonyaul couldn't see it, he could feel it's oppressive, menacing smile. It seemed satisfied with Gonyaul's torture and diminished into the void, leaving Gonyaul wondering if things could get any worse.