THE ADVENT OF UVHASH (Story: New, improved, with Elder Gods added!)
james ambuehl
y'all think of it . . .) ;-)
THE ADVENT OF UVHASH
by James Ambuehl
What is left of my long-time friend, Richard Gavin, lies upon the floor
at my feet, his body little more than a shapeless bag of bloodless pulp.
His drained corpse covers that bloodstained book, the accursed
BLOOD-RITUALS OF RHYLKOS. Would that it had really been destroyed in the
fall of ancient Rome, when the historians recorded that it had been lost
to the ages!
I do not really know just how to tell this tale, so I guess I'll try to
start at the beginning. It all began when I was invited -- no, URGED --
to stay at my friend's mansion set deep in the forested wilds of
northern Wisconsin. I don't even remember when he telephoned now, for I
no longer have any definite perception of the days leading up to this
very moment, but upon receiving his call I drove over without question
to Wisconsin the next day (after gathering some rather peculiar books he
had asked for, which I promptly wrapped up securely and brought with me)
from my own home in Braving, Minnesota.
I remember thinking that Gavin wouldn't be calling me just to
re-initiate a long-overdue friendship -- he must have had something
important on his mind. Just what that could be, however, I couldn't
imagine, for Richard Gavin had a very different set of priorities from
the norm. He being a serious student of the occult, I recalled we had
dabbled in some pretty outré stuff when we'd roomed together at
Royceton University in Braving not quite ten years ago. In fact, our
"experiments" with ESP and the paranormal had nearly had us expelled! It
was to Richard Gavin's credit, however, that he'd been able to net
himself a small fortune by way of those same experiments a few years
after graduation. Never mind that it had once again been amid scandal,
for Richard had never been one to tread the normal byways of life . . .
and I dare not say more concerning THAT!
I stopped for gas in Ashton, the town nearest Gavin's country estate,
and the old station attendant seemed friendly enough. He asked me where
I was from. I told him.
"Braving!" he exclaimed, "oh, yes, a wonderful city! Been there a few
times -- pretty good-sized burg." He inserted the fuel nozzle. "Don't
s'pose you think much o' our little town, eh?" The old man spat upon the
ground as if for punctuation.
"Actually, I find it very refreshing," I answered. "Big cities get very
impersonal. There are just too many people and too much crime, no one
gives anybody else the time of day," I complained. "I would guess all
the people hereabouts are pretty friendly, even to strangers?" I asked,
just to make conversation.
"Yep. As a matter of fact they are." He spat again. "Say, young feller,
where you heading for anyways?"
"A friend invited me stay with him for a few days," I replied. "He lives
a couple of miles from here."
"Oh yeah? Who is he? I prob'ly know him."
"Yes, maybe you do. His name's Richard Gavin . . . we went to school
together at --"
But I didn't continue, for at the mention of my friend's name the
attendant's kindly smile turned into an angry grimace.
"That's enough gas for you!" He snarled, abruptly withdrawing the nozzle
from my Mustang. "We don't wanna help out any o' HIS friends!" He spat
it like it was poison on his tongue.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, bewildered by his reaction.
"You heard me," he growled. "Now get outta here!"
"But what about the gas I owe you for? I --"
"It's on me," he cut me off. "Now get on your way, mister, 'fore I sic
the dog on you." He indicated a Doberman gnawing on a bone at the side
of the garage. "Get him, Butch!" He yelled gruffly. The dog rose to its
feet in an instant, hackles raised, and jumped at me. Being a brown-belt
in Shorin-ryu I instinctively delivered a kick at the dog, stunning it,
then bolted for the Mustang. Jumping in, I shut the car door just as the
dog recovered and reached the car. It clawed frantically at the window
as I started the car and kicked it into gear.
Cursing fitfully under my breath, I fishtailed out of the service
station and gunned it down the road toward Richard's house. But my mind
was racing, I was confused. Why was the old man so incensed at the
mention of Gavin's name? Sure, my friend was a bit eccentric, especially
since he was so into the occult side of life, but lots of people
believed different things these days, what with the freedom of religion
and all. I decided that perhaps these backwoods Wisconsinites were more
close-minded than most folk.
I drove another few miles, until I came to the winding driveway leading
up to Gavin's mansion. It was the spring thaw, and I nearly got stuck
several times on that muddy track, but I got through and pulled up to
the house at last. It almost looked like a long-lost set out of one of
those old Atlantic International Poe movies as it loomed over me like a
hawk hovering above its prey.
He must have heard my Mustang gunning it up the drive, through some of
those puddles, for Richard was outside by the garage waiting for me (he
lived alone, deeming the use of servants unnecessary to his own chosen
lifestyle). I pulled into the stall he indicated, got out and greeted my
friend warmly as we exchanged pleasantries.
He had changed greatly since I had seen him last. His hair, never worn
very long at all in his youth, was noticeably longer, rather unkempt. He
appeared much slimmer, even wasted, to the point of gauntness. I
inquired of his health, but he just waved my concern aside, blaming his
condition on a persistent flu which he'd finally beaten just a few days
ago.
He helped me carry my bags upstairs to the guest room -- although in the
light of his emaciated condition I took the brunt of the load myself --
and showed me where I could freshen up. Afterwards, he led me down the
hall to his book-jammed study.
"I'm glad you brought the books I asked for," he said, indicating the
wrapped parcel under my arm.
"Sure, anytime," I replied. "It's the least I could do for an old
friend. And you can keep them as long as you like. Their use is usually
rather restricted, of course, but Royceton's closed for the spring break
now, and anyway the head librarian's a female friend of mine." I smiled.
He laughed. "Ha, ha . . . the same old Walt I knew back at Royceton! Bet
she's 'stacked' too!" He guffawed. Then he turned serious as he
unwrapped the parcel I had given him with trembling fingers. He read the
titles of the books aloud as he laid them reverently down upon the desk:
"CULTES DES GOULES; THE R'LYEH TEXT: FRAGMENTARY TRANSCRIPTIONS; The
CONFESSIONS of the Mad Monk Clithanus; The Altuan BOOK OF NON AMYA," he
breathed excitedly. "And this, the crowning glory, THE CELAENO
FRAGMENTS, compiled and translated by Laban Shrewsbury himself!" He
nearly shouted at this last. "Wonderful, Walt, wonderful!" He calmed
down slightly. "Walt, do you have any idea what these books are about?"
He asked, indicating the pile he'd stacked with utmost care before him.
"Yes, I think so. They concern black magic, don't they?"
"Well, not exactly . . . but you have the right idea." He smiled.
"I'm glad they please you so, but I'm not too interested any longer in
that field myself," I answered truthfully. Having accepted a position at
Royceton as a professor of history, I'd necessarily had to tone my
interests down to those more down-to-earth. "Our experiments with
psychic phemonena were one thing, but come on, Rich -- DEMONS?" I
laughed nervously.
"The Great Old Ones are much more than mere demons, my friend," he
chided me . . . then he shocked me with what he asked next.
"But being a professor of history, you must have heard of . . . the
BLOOD-RITUALS OF RHYLKOS?"
"The BLOOD-RITUALS!" I gasped aloud. I shuddered involuntarily as I
recalled naught that was wholesome concerning that nauseous bible of the
blood-mad god of the Void known as Uvhash. Countless blood-orgies of the
decadent Roman Empire were attributed to the worship of this foul demon,
and it was rumored that even the terrible mad emperor Caligula himself
owned the vampiric feaster as one of his unspeakable sponsors!
"Yes," I answered my friend slowly, "But I thought Marcus Antistus swore
in his CLAVICULE COSMOGRAPHICUM that all copies had been destroyed?"
His answer surprised me. "Antistus was a masterful wizard, and his KEYS
TO THE COSMOS was indeed a masterwork, but even that Roman
centurion-turned-magician and practitioner didn't dare reveal
everything! He laughed mockingly, and produced before my eyes a slim
crimson-bound folio. It was, of course, the notorious BLOOD-RITUALS, and
I shudderingly recalled rumors concerning a murder-cult that had been
based around Braving a few years ago. This cult was said to have
worshipped as icons such notorious serial killers as Bundy, Kemper,
Shawcross and Gary Ridgeway, the recently confessed Green River Killer,
and had for their bible this selfsame volume!
Richard's voice brought me back to the present. "You've noticed I've
changed, haven't you Walt? Read one page and you'll be changed too."
I was curious. Here before me in Richard Gavin's hands sat a legend!
"May I see?" I asked sheepishly.
"No!" His vehemence was startling. "Not at night," he explained, calming
down once again. "Wait until morning," he urged.
"Well, that's quite a find," I said, not knowing what else to say. "It
must be too old to even handle, let alone read," I suggested.
"No," he answered, "it's imbued with some mystical force which keeps it
from crumbling. Indeed, the book is impervious to fire, water, nigh
indestructible.
"But as I was saying earlier, I want to tell you about the Great Old
Ones. They inhabited this world once, before we humans evolved, but they
lost their foothold on this fledgling Earth by practicing what you
called 'black magic'. They were expelled by a much more powerful force
of entities known as the Elder Gods -- whose all-powerful hoary leader
is known as Nodens, Lord of the Great Abyss, and whose members also
include golden and shimmering Oztalun, shadowy and shapeless Shavalyoth
and incandescent Yaggdytha of Bel-Yarnak -- but the Old Ones are ever
striving to reclaim our Earth, indeed the very universe once more.
"There are even some who remain yet on Earth, who escaped this
expulsion. Great Cthulhu lies sleeping in sunken R'lyeh, ever dreaming
of the day when the stars will be right and R'lyeh will rise out of the
ocean deeps, and he will be released from his aeons-old imprisonment by
his evil fish-frog minions; Nyarlathotep the Faceless howls in the
darkness of the Wood of N'gai while wild beasts lick his hands in
supplication; Ithaqua the Wind-Walker strides the air above the Earth
while Lloigor and Zhar lie beneath the Plateau of Sung, ever attended by
the faithful Tcho-Tchos, and so on."
As he paused in his speech I was left to my thoughts. It all seemed so
impossible, so untrue, yet in the back of my mind I had my doubts. I
steadied my shaking hands and took a sharp intake of breath, trying to
calm my nerves.
My host must have noticed my anxiety, however, for he rose from his
chair and strode over to my own. "I didn't mean to alarm you, Walt," he
reassured me. "You must be exhausted from your trip. I'm going to stay
up for awhile with the books you've brought for me and try to
familiarize myself with their wonders, but for you I think it's time to
sleep."
He led the way to my room and bid me good night, admonishing me to make
sure the windows were shut tight and to lock the door.
"Why the door?" I asked.
"Just humor me, okay?" Was all he said as he walked down the hall to his
study. For some reason I regretted his leaving me alone in the hallway,
for the corridor was dark and I had the strange sensation that some form
of evil lurked nearby, not just something intangible but solid evil
itself. I shrugged the feeling off with not a little effort and swung
open the door to my room.
I walked in and flicked the light switch, but no lights came on to
dispel the darkness. Upon further investigation I found matches and a
few candles. I lit one. After changing for bed I blew out the candle and
lay down. I began to mull the events over as they had thus far unfolded,
then, still mystified, rolled over and went to sleep.
I was awakened abruptly by a storm raging outside. I looked at the
illuminated face of the clock on the nightstand table. It read 2 A.M. I
was about to try and go back to sleep again when I thought I heard
someone shouting above the thunder.
I sensed that feeling of evil once again. Then I heard a sound, like
someone or something ponderous was walking up the hall corridor toward
my room. The sound was more like a lumbering pounding than a walking,
rather, and it was coming closer to my door.
I hugged the blankets to my chin as if to hide from something unknown
and insidious. It was then that the stench made its presence known in my
room. It was a noxious smell, which caused me to cough and sneeze
uncontrollably.
The stench was nearly unbearable now, gagging and cloying. I got out of
bed and re-lit the burned down candle. It was then that the lumbering
stopped. It sounded like it was right outside the bedroom door. An
unreasoning fear came over me, like I'd never felt before, and I hastily
blew out the candle. I stifled a sneeze. My heart felt as if it were ice
as I heard something rattle the doorknob none too gently, and I was glad
I'd locked the door as Richard had instructed me.
Whatever it was on the other side of the door stood there for a moment,
for I could hear its rasping breathing, then it pounded down the
corridor towards the study. I hastily drew on a bathrobe and opened the
door slowly and cautiously. The thing was gone, but the stench it left
behind was nearly palpable.
I heard shouting in the study at the end of the hall. It was Gavin's
voice, raised in some kind of sing-song chant. I ran to the door but
found it locked. Before I could knock upon it a sound grew in intensity
on the other side like nothing I had ever heard on this Earth . . . a
sound not unlike a hundred different animals screaming in pain all at
once!
I remembered what my friend had said about the Great Old Ones, how some
yet remained on Earth waiting for the time to come when they would
resume their terrible reign once more. Was that what lurked beyond the
threshold of the study? I heard Richard's voice call out in a commanding
tone. It sounded something like "N'lnemx Uvhash f'tanen c'fayak dhya!"
The inhuman howling stopped, and the stench dissipated. I beat my fists
upon the door.
"Richard!" I called through the door in alarm. "What's going on in
there?"
"Nothing," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "Now go back to bed,
Walt, and I'll tell you all about it in the morning."
"Like hell you will!" I called. I kicked forcefully against the lock,
shattering it, and I shoved my way past Gavin into the room. It was a
shambles. Books, chairs, furnishings, all were scattered about in a
state of disrepair. A window was broken, and rain had poured in, soaking
the carpet. In fact, about the only thing yet standing was a single desk
arranged in the center of the room like some ceremonial altar. Atop it
lay a book. I picked it up and read the title. It was the BLOOD-RITUALS
OF RHYLKOS.
"You've summoned one of these unbelievable entities from beyond the
stars, haven't you, Richard?" I accused as if I were scolding a petulant
child.
"Yes." He hung his head. "It was a servitor of Uvhash himself." He
sobbed softly. "I tried to stop it, to appease it somehow . . . but it
had been sent by its Lord and Master to deliver a message to me." He
sobbed on as I went to the wet bar, which had also miraculously escaped
destruction, and poured us both a drink. He continued.
"It told me that the blood-god would come for me . . . tomorrow night."
I can't believe I asked the next question."What -- what did it look
like?"
"It was . . . vaguely anthropoid, but humped and formless . . .
partially immaterial . . . a seething twisted mass . . . I can't really
explain it. You'd have to see it for yourself, I'm afraid."
Again I surprised myself. "Yes!" I cried.
"Yes, I want to see it!"
A strange feeling had come over me. Perhaps it was the touch of
something unknown and unknowable, perhaps it was the lure of the
forbidden, or perhaps it was even a result of the onset of madness --
but imagine being faced with the proof of some sort of life, however
malevolent it proved to be, from beyond the stars! I wanted to see it,
to communiate with it, to learn the occult mysteries surrounding it!
"No! I won't let you see it," protested Richard. "It is horrible beyond
imagining, especially for one so unversed in the occult sciences as you,
despite our experiments at Royceton." He muttered: "Perhaps if Uvhash
had sent one of the Hounds . . . but no, they're really just as bad . .
if not worse . . . !" His face was grim now, fueled with malice. Then
he relaxed and his look softened. "Walt," he apologized, "If you had
seen it . . . it would surely have driven you mad."
I glanced again at the BLOOD-RITUALS and asked him to teach me the
details surrounding this fantastic mythos. Now HE was surprised. He
opened his mouth as if to protest, then his face brightened slightly as
he seemed to be mulling over my request. He finally muttered, "Yes, I
could use your assistance in helping me forestall IT . . ." Then more
loudly: "All right, Walt, but I won't be responsible for any harm that
befalls your body or soul!"
"What do you mean?" I asked warily.
"There is a price to pay for communion with one such as Uvhash," he
replied. "Look." He slowly unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his shirt
sleeve. It was partially healed over, but it appeared as though
something had gnawed on his arm for quite a while.
"This happened the first time I ventured astrally, too far beyond my
limitations," he explained. "Instead of calling Uvhash before me -- I
went to him. The blood-god caught me unprepared. I escaped only by
chance. I called out for aid to another entity, Gi-Hoveg, the
Aether-Anenome. It appeared in its awesome majesty -- a giant spiky ball
of spongy flesh surrounded by numerous eyes set between its countless
spikes. It attacked Uvhash with its cosmic powers, fantastic and
completely nebuloid. It drove the blood-god off."
I was speechless. This was all so incredible. Was this my friend Richard
Gavin, or DR. STRANGE of Marvel Comics fame? I half expected him to
roll out the Eye of Agamotto or the Wand of Watoomb! Still, if all of
what my friend was telling me was even remotely based in fact, then all
I'd been taught of the material world at large was totally wrong. It was
a repulsive idea -- and yet it strangely attracted me, like being privy
to some awesome secret.
Richard sighed and rolled his sleeve down again. "Morning is still a few
hours away, but we can sleep in peace now. Not Uvhash nor any of his
servitors -- not loathsome, wispy Star Vampire nor those dreaded Hounds
of Tindalos -- will be back to visit us again tonight. But we must
prepare ourselves for his coming tomorrow night!"
Bidding Richard good night (for what else could I say?) I went back to
my room. But sleep did not come easy once again. My mind was filled with
wonder and awe. I wanted to learn the secrets of the universe, to hold
the key to the unknowable within my grasp, but it bothered me as well.
Was man meant to voyage far in such fantastic explorations? I fell
asleep debating with myself whether I should go through with it or not
-- and dreading the consequences of either decision, both for Richard
and I and for the very world.
* * *
I awoke to find the sun shining in through my latticed windows. It was a
welcome sight. Everything that had occurred last night seemed so unreal
now that at first I wondered if it were all just a nightmare I'd had.
But I knew deep down in my heart that it wasn't.
Richard met me in the hallway and led me out to the veranda, where a
delicious breakfast of sausage, toast and eggs awaited us, and while we
ate he gave me a clearer background on just what the Great Old Ones
were.
"Eons before human beings as we know them today evolved on Earth, a
great battle between the malevolent Old Ones and the more benevolent
Elder Gods was raging through time and space. And as my late fellow
Wisconsinite William Thelder's THE ULTIMATE WAR (which concerns this
very battle) tells us, the omnipotent Elder Gods, led by Nodens, beat
the Great Old Ones back, and imprisoned them in sundry places: Cthulhu
in sunken R'lyeh, Hastur bound to a star in the Hyades, Nyarlathotep
here in Wisconsin near Rick's Lake, and so on. But the Great Old Ones
were not lax inside their bonds. On Earth and other spheres they found
primitive humans and other more fantastic races willing to practice
their particular brand of 'black magic,' in small pockets of cult
worship likely held somewhere far beneath the Elder Gods' notice, hoping
thereby to release Cthulhu and his diabolic brethren once and for all."
He went on to give examples of such mind-numbing escapes, both temporary
and permanent, and explained to me the happenings at Dunwich, Innsmouth,
and Arkham, Massachusetts, and countless other places -- even his own
state of Wisconsin and my own beloved Minnesota. He talked especially of
the locale surrounding Braving, which seemed to be a focal point for
eldritch activity.
As he talked on I listened intently. I rushed through breakfast, anxious
to start my sorcery apprenticeship. Finally Richard finished his
breakfast and his diatribe and we adjourned to his library, the study
being out of the question considering last night's damage.
"It's lucky I had the foresight to bring the books you brought into the
library last night," he explained, "or else they'd be trashed as well
now and we'd be nowhere without them. I'm afraid I lost a great deal of
my own priceless books last night.
"Okay, I'll pour us a drink and we'll begin. You may start with the
R'LYEH TEXT if you wish, Walt, but I'd recommend something more mild,
perhaps the CONFESSIONS OF CLITHANUS?"
Not one to be outdone in anything, I answered, "I think I'll take the
R'LYEH TEXT first, even if I can't pronounce the damn thing -- but just
what are we looking for anyway, Richard?"
"The Great Old Ones are vastly powerful," he explained, "and as such
they are -- much like our own relatively recent god of the Christian
faith -- very jealous gods indeed! They have their rivalries, especially
among their respective elemental classifications."
He must have noticed my bewilderment.
"I'll back up here a second, Walt, and explain the elemental theory of
the Great Old Ones. Cthulhu is a water elemental, his powers belonging
to the waters more or less, and as such is the sworn enemy of his own
half-brother the air elemental Hastur; Nyarlathotep, whose powers are
more or less earth-based, has been known in the past to have his
skirmishes with the fire elemental Cthugha. You get the idea. At any
rate, many scholars have attempted to establish these elemental
classifications and delineate them amongst the various Old Ones --
spurred on of course by both Shrewsbury's THE CELAENO FRAGMENTS and the
Comte d'Erlette's CULTES DES GOULES. Thelder's aforementioned THE
ULTIMATE WAR is an indispensible volume in this area of expertise too,
as well as Carter Linwood's DEVIL-GODS OF THE LU-KTHU MYTHOS. But I've
gone throughly through them both . . . all to no avail in my current
plight."
He paused to refresh our drinks before continuing. "The problem at hand,
Walt, is twofold: first, we must cull all the information we can from
these volumes concerning the blood-mad god of the Void, for we must know
all there is to know about our enemy. Second, we must find a spell of
exorcism or warding powerful enough to drive off Uvhash for good, or
failing that we must attempt to enlist the aid of one of ITS rivals as a
powerful ally, so that we may use it to vanquish the blood-god. We could
even call upon one of the Elder Gods, perhaps even Nodens himself --
though I sincerely doubt that they would listen to me in light of my
crimes committed in the names of the Great Old Ones, their immortal
enemies!"
He halted, as if to gather his thoughts as I wondered at this last
remark. Then: "I can no longer call upon Gi-Hoveg. His price is even
higher than the blood-god's. He's the reason the people of Ashton hate
me so, and with good reason, I'm afraid.
"Besides, Uvhash is obviously an elemental of the aether, as his
appelation 'mad god of the Void' suggests. The 'Aether-Anenome' would be
no good against him a second time. No, we'll have to call upon one of
the water entities, perhaps Great Cthulhu himself or even Y'lla the
titanic tentacled sea-worm, which dwells in its sunken citadel called
K'hraa.
"And please don't think me a monster, Walt. You see, I MUST drive IT off
if I value my own life -- and I DO! I called IT that first time
intending it to be the sole communion with IT -- but it didn't quite
work out that way." He paused again, and began to unbutton and remove
his shirt. His usual practice of wearing all-black attire had hidden it
previously from sight, but as he removed his shirt I now saw that his
shoulders, chest, back, and nearly everywhere the skin was exposed were
covered in a cross-hatching of bloody furrows dotted here and there with
blood-encrusted puncture marks that looked like they might have been
made with knitting needles. It looked for all the world like he might
have undergone a ritual of torture such as the eastern "death of a
thousand cuts."
He donned his shirt again and smiled wryly. "You see now, my friend,
that my condition of ill health isn't due to any bout of flu -- it's
Uvhash, he's drawn to me like a drug . . . and as a result I'm afraid
I've become frightfully ANEMIC!"
I was staggered by this revelation. Speechless, I took up the R'LYEH
TEXT in my numb fingers, now more determined than ever to help my poor,
tortured friend. I sat at a small table and began reading, often having
to re-read several passages in an attempt to make sense of what I was
reading. It was difficult going at first, but as I read more and more
concerning this senses-shattering mythology I came to know even better
what Richard Gavin had been going on about. His own gasp of this mythos
seemed to be on target, even if he had made some unfortunate summoning
choices!
Our first task was the easiest, for aside from the BLOOD-RITUALS, which
had gained Richard a small sheaf of typed notes, very few volumes even
mentioned Uvhash. I have our notes on hand now (all except the
BLOOD-RITUALS excerpts, and of course the book itself, which lies pinned
beneath Richard's corpse), and copy them here for posterity.
First, from the Altuan wizard's self-titled BOOK OF NON AMYA:
'Beware ye, for the Feaster in the Void arrives with the coming of the
storm, or with the fall of night. It can be summoned with the aid of the
blood-orb, but at dire peril for the summoner! For once called forth, it
must feed upon the summoner's very lifeblood . . . and Uvhash, the
blood-mad god of the Void is indeed a hungry and greedy god . . .'
Next, from Shrewsbury's CELAENO FRAGMENTS:
'They are lean and athirst, those shadowy Hounds, but their thirst is as
naught compared to that of their master, the blood-god of the Void. For
Uvhash dwells upon the life-force of others, and hungry is he. Indeed,
all forms of life are as food to Him and his amorphous horde. Those of
Rhylkos and their cousins, the Hounds of Tindalos, seek out the living
greedily, and suck their horrid nourishment therefrom -- 'til naught
remains but an empty dry husk.'
And from the R'LYEH TEXT:
'The glutter of gore hails from Rhylkos, that planet nearest Tindalos,
and may be called by way of the blood-orb when the stars are in
conjunction with . . .'
There was more, of course, but we were trying to learn how to FORESTALL
Uvhash, not SUMMON IT!
By far the most thought-provoking quote was one gathered earlier by
Richard on his perusal of Carter Linwood's DEVIL-GODS OF THE LU-KTHU
MYTHOS:
'I'm not precisely sure just where ghostly Tindalos can be found --
perhaps it is invisible and immaterial, as its appelation seems to imply
-- but I feel certain that Rhylkos can be equated with planet Mars in
our own solar system. It seems fitting that this angry red planet would
be the home of the god known in the BLOOD-RITUALS OF RHYLKOS as Uvhash,
and this theory seems to be backed up adequately by the details NASA
reported regarding the soil experiment conducted on Mars by a Viking
lander in 1976. To see if anything lived on the surface of Mars' soil,
the lander introduced a "snack" of radioactively tagged nutrients to
said soil. This "snack" was instantly absorbed and metabolized, or
"eaten." It was as if the very clay of Mars ate the food!
And having also read the Aihai journals concerning the "Dweller in the
Martian Depths" and the horror that yet dwells in the nighted Vaults of
Yoh-Vombis, I can well believe this planet harbors the vampiric entity
known as Uvhash, the blood-mad god of the Void . . .'
My eyes were bloodshot and my mind was boggled. I lifted my gaze wearily
from the books at hand. It was then that I espied the accursed stone orb
sitting on the hearth across the room. It was seemingly perfectly round,
and was a garish red hue, like blood.
"What's that?" I asked my host, pointing to the stone sphere.
"Hmm?" he looked up bleary-eyed. "Oh. That's the blood-orb," he replied
matter-of-factly. "It's how I called upon Uvhash -- at first, before IT
started visiting me on ITS own accord." He smiled wanly and returned to
the CELAENO FRAGMENTS in his lap.
However, I needed a break from the books myself, and crossed the room to
stand before the blood-orb. My gaze seemed drawn to it, and I began to
see hazy visions forming in its murky depths. At length the cloudy
surface cleared, and it seemed to become transparent, like bloody
crimson crystal. I stared deeper and deeper still, horrified and at the
same time mystified by what I saw in its depths. Yet I could not pull
away. I seemed to experience a sense of falling, whirling downward into
its seductive depths.
* * *
My astral self fluttered to a landing upon a clifftop overlooking a
storm-tossed sea, and once settled, I took in my surroundings. The sky
was dark, lashed with lightnings that hardly sufficed to dispel the
gloom. In the battering surf I espied a hundred, nay, a thousand figures
struggling inland. They appeared to be fish-frog men, and over their
bestial shoulders they heaved upon tow-ropes. At the end of the ropes
was an immense pedestal, upon which sat a towering figure, vaguely
anthropoid, but scaled and taloned, with huge bat-like wings erupting
from its back. Its head was rather octopoid, a beard of twisting
tentacles comprising most of its daemonic face. By the chants cried out
by the fish-men,and also by such descriptions given in the R'LYEH TEXT,
I knew this to be a representation of Cthulhu himself.
As I gazed upon this colossal figure, it suddenly MOVED, and I knew it
not to be carven from a green soap-stone as I had first surmised, but
rather that it was ALIVE!
Farther out to sea the waves boiled up and suddenly parted, and a vast
crenelated seashell arose, bearing a likewise colossal figure of a
wizened, yet powerful looking figure, manlike with seashells and corals
adorning his long flowing hair, and a beard of tentacles. Gigantic
seahorses pulled his seashell-chariot, and I knew this awesome figure to
be Nodens, Lord of the Great Abyss.
Nodens began to pumel the figure of Cthulhu with powerful blasts of
eldritch green fire. Cthulhu screamed out in pain and fury in an alien
tongue, as fish-frog men were scattered to and fro.
* * *
I was dimly aware of someone shouting in my ear, shaking me firmly by
the shoulders. "Walt, wake up! Snap out of it, man!" screamed Gavin.
I was back in my own body again. Yet it had all seemed so real. Had I
actually astrally-travelled? Had I actually witnessed the culmination of
an ancient, eldritch struggle between outre beings incomprehensibly
vast?
"What happened?" I babbled inanely.
"My god, man, don't you know?" Richard looked terrified. "You spoke the
words. You've summoned Uvhash, and he's coming!" I heard the wind rising
outside; the sky had darkened over and lightning began to lash the sky,
followed by a tremendous thunderburst. "Walt, we're unprepared!" shouted
my host in desperation.
I was dumbfounded.
"Walt, hand me the BLOOD-RITUALS and light those candles over there!" He
indicated a small table by the French doors leading out to the veranda.
I saw tall black candles set in ornate fixtures atop it, and its surface
seemed to be inscribed with bizarre symbols and geometric shapes.
"Hurry, man, HURRY!" shrieked my friend.
I handed him the red-bound folio and ran over to the table to light the
candles. Before I could light the match the horrible stench came again,
but this time a hundred times worse. Richard then joined me before the
table. He threw back a rug in front of it and carved directly into the
hardwood floor I saw a seven-pointed star set inside a circle. He
grabbed my arm and pulled me bodily into the circle. He raised the
BLOOD-RITUALS and began chanting frantically.
Something slapped wetly on the veranda. The glass doors crashed in
forcefully, stabbing us with skin-slicing glass shards. Lightning
flashed, illuminating the shape on the veranda, and in that hellish
glance I saw evil incarnate!
How to describe the unnameable? It seemed to resemble an amorphous mass
of wildly flailing tentacles. It was multi-eyed and leather-winged. It
was reddish in color and seemed to be drenched in blood. It was all of
these, and yet it was also ALIVE AND BREATHING AND MOVING! It towered
over the mansion like a mountain over a molehill -- and from it came an
awful discordant whstling or piping sound which I somehow knew to be its
incomprehensible oration.
Needle-like siphons on the tips of a multitude of tentacles darted in
through the shattered French doors. Richard Gavin remained stock-still.
He stood there grim-faced and it seemed his body was made of steel just
then. Blue fire sprang forth from his fingertips to strike the thing and
he screamed out:
AI NODENS! AI NODENS! N'GHA-YHAA! IA UVHASH THAGN GHYU RHYLKOS!"
The blue fire burned like an inferno, yet it seemed to have no effect
upon the thing. At once Richard turned to me and calmly said: "Walt,
it's over. The Lord of the Great Abyss has denied me, as I knew he
would. Even the Blue Flame of Yaggdytha of Bel-Yarnak fails me now. I
can hold it back no longer. Go now, my friend, while you still can."
With that, Richard Gavin resigned himself to his fate and walked toward
the screeching abomination. At the same moment the madly whipping
tentacles of the thing came together into one giant point and stabbed
directly into his chest. Then the horror called Uvhash, the blood-mad
god of the Void, began to feed once again.
I stood petrified as I watched the body of Richard Gavin begin to
deflate rapidly like a child's punctured bicycle tire. As his body was
drained of its life's fluid it folded in upon itself, flopping over the
BLOOD-RITUALS OF RHYLKOS like an empty balloon. When it had finished its
gruesome task the ancient evil withdrew as quickly as it had appeared,
sated -- for the moment. The storm died down rapdily then, and all
became sunny and warm once more.
And that is my tale. As I sit here writing at the table, the body of my
friend Richard Gavin beginning to putrify on the floor, I suddenly fear
that I have lingered here a bit too long. I have a feeling that Uvhash
will come back for me tonight, or perhaps even sooner, as he did many
times for my friend. I only hope that those siphons are not TOO PAINFUL
. . and that Uvhash is not TOO GREEDY in his appetites this night. I
had better end this narrative and gather those books together, and begin
my reading. Already the sky is darkening and the storm is beginning to
rage outside.
THE END
-- Jim
"Currently she was standing in the middle of what appeared to be his
TARDIS library. But it was a library of the evil and the arcane, where
the godless 'Necronomicon' was sandwiched between those terrible works
'Liber Inducens in Evangelium Aeternum' and 'The Black Scrolls of
Rassilon'. Where the infamous 'Book of Vile' and its Black Appendix sat
next to 'The Ambuehl Lores' and the wretched 'Insidium of Astrolabus'
.."
-- THE QUANTUM ARCHANGEL by Craig Hinton