Saturday, December 22, 2012

Its Not Everyday That You Get to Save the World

We did it. I don't know how, but we did it. We're out. We defied the future and we won. I say 'we' because in the end, I really couldn't have done it on my own. Thinking back now, saying I was going to deliver the world single-handedly seemed arrogant and foolish. Even with help, even with preparations, even with a last minute twist of fate, we only just escaped the house. So lets begin shall we?

As you know my last post was posted about a 9:45 the night after last. At that point I'd noted that Niddhogr/Slender Man/whateveryouwannacallem was circling the perimeter of the house in an ever tightening loop. The nature of this probing wasn't normal (for whatever given value 'normal' applies to my life now). It would be in one spot standing and staring at the house until one of us blinked (I had the east and north, Surge had the south and west), and then it'd be gone. That was always the worst part, NOT knowing were the thing was. But everytime that happened, it'd reappear on another side closer still. That was until about 10:20 that night, when it vanished altogether. After ten minutes of frantic searching outside, we warily shifted it inside. Another half hour or so later, we confirmed that the three of us (Jessica had been in bed for a while) were still alone in the house. We went back to watching the perimeter, but well, nothing happened for one, two, and even three hours. At 2:15 AM on the morning of doom, I was starting to wonder if I'd made a mistake in listening to the invisible posts.

That's we the noise started. Footsteps; soft, clear, and menacing. At first it sounded like they were coming from the attic (which would have been impossible in itself, its a lake remember), but then it sounded like it was coming from the basement. So, we slowly followed the source of the noise, each new corner and closed door stopping our hearts. As we hunted up and down we found that our traps had disappeared. Gone were the tripwires, caltraps, and precariously placed blades. Even my special trap (dubbed: The Last Hurrah) consisting of two oil drums and match on a pulley had simply disappeared. At that point I really didn't miss them; in my terror I realized just how clumsy these traps really were. Then Surge took off, saying he had a plan. Well, I followed him, and the 'plan' turned out to be waiting for the end in Jessica's room.

Jessica's doing fine by the way, just want to get that out there. In fact, she's getting a little stronger every week. I don't feel right imparting how much money I put down to get the right equipment and chemicals, but as long as she continues the treatment, she'll at least make it through January.

Anyway, we sat and waited in her room, shaking as we eyed the solitary door leading in and out for an hour straight. Its a cliche I'll admit, but that hour was the longest hour of my life. Every little creak, every shift in air, heralded the arrival of our tormentor, and our doom. It was a little past 5:00 AM when the footsteps approached the room. Another eternal minute passed before the door began to slowly creak open, and another still before it entered. It was unsettleing at a distance, but the thing was pure hysteria up close. It moved as though it had no bones, eerily fluid and slow. It had to stoop to enter the room, and upon doing so it straightened up to tower over us. I panicked, unloading a full clip of twelve into the thing at less than a meter, but it didn't even flinch. It just slowly cocked its head in curiousity or amusement, hard to tell which. It took a pair of steps forward before Surge (with far more courage than I at that time) launched himself at the thing. With a lazy swat of its freakishly-long arm, Surge tumbled through a nearby wall and collapsed.

I stood before it now, frozen not only with fear, but despair. You see, as it neared, its features came into sharper focus, as did the strange noises on the edge of hearing. One detail I'll never forget is the creature's coat (although I highly doubt that's what it really is), the buttons weren't buttons at all, they were eyes, eyes staring at me, whispering to me. These whispers proclaimed the swift victory of Great and Powerful Niddhogr, the Famished, the Unmerciful. This world was just another in a string of meals, and like the rest no one would remember us, or even know that we had ever existed. What use was it to fight? He'd only win in the end. Better to lay down arms and embrace one's fate, in vain hope that your consumption would at the very least, be quick. To my continuing shame, I listened to the voices. I'll offer no excuse, but I will remind you that they were quite persuasive. They seemed to push away all thoughts to the contrary, you knew that there were arguments you could make against the words, but they seemed to be... over there... just out of reach. All that was left were the words, which suddenly began to seem very sensible indeed. After all, he was stronger than me, why shouldn't he be allowed to devour as he pleased? In fact, as I pondered, it seemed less a inevitability, than a duty to be consumed, then less a duty, than a wonderful privilege!

And then I lowered my shotgun. The voices stopped, and 'Great and Wonderful Niddhogr' stabbed me on the shoulder with a tentacle, picked me up, and tossed me into a corner. I could feel some sinister poison worming its way through my veins, chilling my blood and clouding my thoughts. Through the gathering fog I saw the thing, the Abomination, standing at the foot of the little girl's bed, perhaps momentarily lost in the heady anticipation of another meal, when, with a purifying fire, the realization of the creature's mission swept through my mind. Somehow, someway, one small child was holding him back, no, not just a small child, a sick, very sick, little girl was somehow stronger than this menace from beyond. I laughed at the irony, softly at first, but before long I was caught up in a tidal wave of mirth.

The thing turned to me, voices once more whispering in my head to keep silent, and welcome my sad fate. But I would not be quieted so easily, not on this last chance to laugh before the world crashed around me. It stood over me, voices warning me again to be silent. At this point I noticed Surge groggily awakening, and I knew there was a chance for him and his daughter to get away. So I continued, laughter turning to mocking, as I asked it why it was unable to overcome a sick little girl. The next thing I knew I had been hurled halfway across the second floor, landing hard in yet another pile of junk. The laughter had ceased, and I knew I had gone too far. Niddhogr was angry, and I realized I had to keep it as far away from Jessica as possible. I tried to get to my feet but it was already on me, grasping me by the neck. The whispers sneered at my foolishness, asking what power I thought I wielded that the Great and Powerful Nidhoggr knew not? Had I swallowed worlds and laid low empires? Had I drank the firey light of a thousand suns and gorged upon a thousand moons?

No, I replied, I'm just a part-time Barber from the Northwest, and I haven't committed such wonderful and awe-inspiring atrocities, but please do continue. For my insolence, I was thrown against a support pillar, breaking my arm and nearly blacking out. Still I knew it was toying with me, and I didn't have the power to survive another throw, let alone fight back. My mind raced as it slowly approached for the final blow, trying to think of a some small distraction to buy Surge and Jessica time to escape. But Great and Powerful Nidhoggr, I said, surely even one so mighty as you has weakness? Surely there is something you fear, O deadliest of enemies? I flopped away from a lashing tentacle, which ripped clean through the pillar, one of the two holding up the third floor and-

The Attic, or more specifically, its occupant. Surely the sea beast would at least give it pause? And surely enough, in my moment of great need, the house provided. My oil drum trap, 'The Last Hurrah' was among the things that spilled out of a closet unto a second pillar. The thing was distracted for a crucial second, and I dived for away from the trap into another pile. But as I groped for a match or a lighter, I felt constricting tentacles grab me once more. I kicked and struggled, but the poison and fatigue were taking their toll, and I was dragged out to be squeezed to death. Just as suddenly, the pressure ceased, and I was released. Before I met back up with Surge, I thought he was the one who saved me, but he says they he was halfway across the field with Jessica at that point. I don't know who it was that I saw grappling with Niddhogr and twisting him over to the drums, but I'm sure he was also the one who dropped a box of matches on my chest. Instinct took over, and with one fluid movement a head was lit and hurled into the waiting trap, the blast enveloping Niddhogr and my mysterious rescuer at point blank range. The pillar gave way, and the entire third floor and attic collapsed. The mystery man was no where to be seen, but Niddhogr was quickly awash in a torrent of salt water. It was here at last, that I discovered his weakness; well, truth be told, not really a weakness, more of a roadblock. But the water seemed to stun him for a few moments at least, enough time for the bear-dolphin thing to set upon him. I could hear there epic struggle as I escaped the house with nothing more than the clothes on my back and the knowledge that the world was momentarily safe.

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