The Old Gods

And something shifted in my perceptions then, like a clearing of mist, and I saw the lake glittering in the valley below us not as a lake but rather the awakening eye of a long sleeping giant, blinking, looking back at us.

“You people are insane!” I yelled over the keening wind.

“Please,” the man said calmly. “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. We’re trying something quite new."

There was a flash of silver in the orange-dusk and I felt something hot and then very cold. I felt weak. I looked down and saw blood pouring into pre-dug troughs in the dirt. The pattern was an intricate design that made little sense to me.

The group encircling us began a rhythmic hum. The ground rumbled as if the whole Earth joined in. As I fell to the ground, too weak to stand, vision beginning to swim, a giant tentacle seemed to reach up from beyond a hill across the valley.

“Civilisation has failed,” the man said. “We must look to the Old Gods.”

Mike A. Rhodes enjoys reading, writing, ice hockey and food.