The King of Winter - A Study in Horror

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Czernobog
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Joined: Thu May 22, 2008 9:27 am
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The King of Winter - A Study in Horror

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The memories of ten years past still linger in my mind as I write these words, much as I try to erase the horrific memories of so long ago. The horrors I witnessed, the unexplainable abominations, have left me in uttermost shock. Sometimes, I wonder if they were merely the delusions of an addled brain, but I do know they were not, as I still remember in vivid detail the chilling cold on that hellish night. Perhaps writing these words down will exorcise these nightmares, but I know that they will not perform that vital function to my damaged, wounded mentality.

It was a dark, chilling night on All Hallow's Eve, and the country house in which I was staying was situated near an ancient barrow, dating from Celtic times. The clouds blocked off the sky, leaving a portal of clear sky through which the evil, malevolent light of the full moon shone through upon the barrow.

Let me describe that house for you, as although it no longer stands, I still see it vividly in my mind's eye. It was ancient, designed in the Baroque, created in the 18th Century as a palatial manor, although parts of it were older, most notably an antique system of cellars and tunnels dating back to the Mediaeval period, and a few priest-holes in walls dating back to Tudor times. It was menacing, most clearly to me, as it cast long shadows during the dusk-period whereupon I arrived.

Its gardens were large, but stopped just short of the menacing barrow, upon which was an ancient henge made of antediluvian stones taken from Wales far away, stepped in blood from Druidic sacrifices millennia old, and, it is whispered, still carried out every All Hallow's Eve to the night of All Hallow's Eve upon the year of 1881, whereupon I arrived.

It was a menacing structure in the dark of the night, the black night of All Hallow's Eve, whereupon, it is said by the nearby farmers, the devil himself walks among men. I no longer doubt this superstition, after the horrors I beheld on that dark eve.

The house was not that well-lit - electric lighting was still only a new thing, a novelty, in the year that I stayed within that house's cavernous and shadowed rooms, and candles were still used in large part to provide light. My dreams for the three nights prior to All Hallow's Eve within that house were disturbing, as if the night-mare sat upon my chest as I slept. The most vivid one, that occurred upon the night before Hallow'een (or All Hallow's Eve as it is more properly known) I well recall, as it was of a great, skeletal king with a crown of black iron upon his head, covered in frosted armour. At his visage I recoiled, for hair that was the white of the most freezing glacier was upon his head, and he moved. Words cannot describe my horror then, but it was only the beginning.

Upon the night of All Hallow's Eve, I well recall the noise that startled me as I prepared to fall into slumber. It was a horrific scream from the direction of the barrow, and I hurriedly rushed downstairs into the entrance hall as I heard it. There, a cold, blueish light filled the hall, drowning out the candles and revealing a horrific being.

It was a floating suit of armour, but like no armour I had seen, bearing a blade covered in the most horrific, abominable, eldritch sigils I had ever beheld, and I had read many bizarre languages of pre-human times. It was caked heavily in frost.

It spoke, entering my mind directly, by-passing the ears.

THE KING OF WINTER COMES. YOU CANNOT STOP HIM. DIE.

I threw a candle at it as a weapon, trusting in the Saviour to preserve me. The creature articulated what might have been a scream, and the candle fell right through it as it became naught but cold mist.

The floor burned where the candle landed, and I saw that heat, or perhaps fire, seemed to be the weakness of these things, so I used another candle to light an impromptu torch and made haste to the ancient, blood-soaked barrow.

I rushed to the barrow, and saw four men in hooded black robes and masks, standing at the cardinal directions surrounding an altar-stone in the centre of the abominable henge, chanting strange inhuman chants that were presumably difficult for their throats to articulate. A naked female body lay on the altar-stone, dead and still dripping blood - the poor creature's face reminded me of a servant whom I had seen. Then, the air seemed to shift, as though something, most likely a gateway to dimensions beyond our own, was opening.

Out came a skeletal figure, exactly like the one in my dream. I threw the torch at the eldritch portal, and out came a blinding light. I ran and ran, the house was burning, and then, the barrow exploded, massive lumps of earth and stone flying far away.

I survived, and after finding rescue I read a newspaper at a nearby village. It told of a bizarre fire at a nearby country house, and, believe it or not, it also told of an explosion at a barrow nearby!
You have ruled this galaxy for ten thousand years.
You have little of account to show for your efforts.
Order. Unity. Obedience.
We taught the galaxy these things.

And we shall do so again.
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