Flash Fiction Month 2015, Day 23
Challenge #10: Write a cosmic horror story from a first person perspective. It must include tentacles and at least one suspicious character.
The Henge was a marvel. Where so much in the Alterworld was chaos and madness—adaptation indistinguishable from aberration—here was order and sense. This was an object with meaning: a function to perform, a message to be discovered.
I lifted the mouthpiece of the radio to my lips. “The structure is approximately eight feet in height and between thirty and fifty in diameter. Difficult to be say without better illumination. It appears…” man-made would be hideously inappropriate, “deliberately assembled.”
I walked around the perimeter of the Henge, apparently a perfect circle. It would be difficult to prove conclusively that this was not the result of some natural process. It could conceivably have been an artefact left by some long-dispersed ALICE hotspot, but it could not be purely geological. For one thing, the streaks of rust suggested it was at least partially composed of iron. For another, each of the pillars contorted into strange and unlikely angles on its path from silt to sky. The structure danced like a figure in a zoetrope as I progressed around its circumference. Continue reading