A Lovecraftian Horror: Prologue

Preface

Welcome to the first in a series of chapters from my horror novel, A Lovecraftian Horror. For those of you who don't know what 'Lovecraftian' means, it's a sub-genre of the horror genre that focuses on the act of attaining forbidden knowledge to only, in the end, go entirely insane or be destroyed in some creative way. This is somewhat of a tribute to H.P Lovecraft.The chapters will be brief. In today's entry, I'll start with a prologue.

News

The next installment is slated for a few days from now. Before the new installment is submitted, I have some other works I would like to create and upload.

Prologue

The water lapped gently against the cliff, the ebb and the flow of the ocean melding in perfect harmony to create a soothing sound for those above to admire. They were grubbily cloaked, but their attire did not detract from their menacing presence. The air, chilled by the presence of these beings, was still and cold. A smell, a very odd smell, wafted down from the cliff.

The cloaked beings were committing to, it would seem to the casual observer, some sort of ritual. They stood in a circle, without speaking, moving around a fire that had been hastily made in a deep pit. From the shadows, apparitions appeared. A severed arm was first, and it revolved until falling to the ground in a bloody heap. They paid no mind to this, and as always, focused on the fire. Another apparition could be seen appearing as if from the shadows themselves, this time a severed horse head. They also paid no attention to this new oddity.

A few moments later, from the shadows appeared, a spectacle to behold. A cloaked monster, who stood 8 feet tall, loomed before them. It was of no human origin, drenched in blood with pale blue eyes that seemed to pierce the very veil between the natural and supernatural itself. It did not utter a single word, but those in the circle gave their undying attention to it and began to mutter strange words of unknown origins. In this manner, they danced around the beast, casting their words at it as if creating an enchantment.

Very soon, the beast defected to the shadows from which it had been moments before, born from. The rituals ceased, and the severed arm and horse head disappeared.

The water was still lapping against the cliffs, casually creating a soothing harmony for those above. But, this time, the water was blood.

Chapter One

In the village, the night's salty air, normally smelling of the ocean, smelled of more sinister stenches.

The inhabitants of the villages did not care to know anymore of the world than they did at the moment. They were content to live a life of indifference, as long as the world continued to exist. Yet, it still must be said. Things peculiar and strange did occur around their village.

That wasn't to say all of the folks in this village paid no mind to it. Jack Brinton is the perfect example. His house stood closest to the trees that signal the beginning of the forest. Some say the forest was infinite, some say it was the birthplace of the devil himself. Whatever it was, no one would ever go in there unless they absolutely had to.

Jack was the son of a blacksmith, whose forge also happened to be at the edge of the forest (or as close as anyone dared get to the forest). At the age of 14 (which he had attained weeks ago), he was preparing to take up the mantle and truly get to know the trade. He was horrified of the very idea of becoming a blacksmith, as his truest ambition at heart was to become an adventurer.

From the very first time he learned of the cliff, known as Wiser's Cliff, he had been fascinated with it, enthralled with its anciently malevolent nature. He was not foolish enough to venture out onto it at night, but he had spent many a day picking his way through the rocks, examining them for evidence of the supernatural happenings that reportedly occurred there regularly.

He had heard all of the stories, and enjoyed them greatly, but he never quite had the courage to venture onto the cliffs at night. It was at this time that he enjoyed the soothing sounds of the fire as he made his way to night.

Oddly enough, on this night, he dreamed of blood, water, and odd cloaked beings in a somewhat relevant circle around a fire. Of this, he could derive no meaning.