Part 3 - The Finale
A ringing throbbed in Thomas Ashton's ears. His eyes could see nothing but darkness. He knew not if it was blindness or if all light had left the room. Crawling toward the device he could hardly breath with anticipation. He felt a warm mass. It must be the boy. It had short swift breaths. And its skin was moist to the touch.
“Daniel, Daniel Smith is that you?” was all Thomas could whisper through clinched teeth. His every fiber was telling him to flee. What he was touching could not be human. It was spongy and damp like what the boy was before Daniel gave it his blood.
The form jerked away and was gone from Thomas' touch. He simply heard the sound of draining fluids and the soft thump of human bodies falling to the ground. The darkness was now forcing itself on him. Crushing the air from his lungs. His whole body clinched. He was prepared to die. He was always willing to die for Daniel's theories, but the terror that gripped him now could not be ignored. Every fiber screamed at him now, 'Run, Flee,' but he couldn't he was paralyzed.
A could snout pressed against Thomas' ear. A warm breath panted an unearthly watery stench. “Tell me Mr. Ashton, tell me is this what you had in mind all along.” it breathed the words in a slow watery way.
Thomas couldn't talk words would not come. His muscles began to spasm as they grew fatigued. He couldn't release he was clenched ready for death. His bowels evacuated into his pants.
“You fool boy. I have come to educate you. One cannot fathom the depths of the abyss. One cannot tamper with such things and not be punished. In fact I have been personally torturing your dear Doctor Smith for years now. That mind in the jar is nothing more than living tissue very much devoid of a soul. I pray we meet up in the abyss. We have so much more to discuss.” at that Thomas felt a sharp pain in his neck. A moment later his eyes closed forever just as they glimpsed his torso falling to the ground several feet away.
At dawn a traveling salesman came to the house in the cleft looking to sell his wares. He found a small blond curly haired boy sitting on the stoop shivering.
“Boy why are you out in the cold. What is that all over you? My... my gods what has happened?” The boy was covered in blood from next to toe. Not a drop of it having touched his pristine blond hair. As the salesman stepped forward to help, the boy raised a distorted hand and pulled off the skin of the now very much dead Samuel Smith and proceeded to dissect the salesman. The creature used long talon like fingers raking away slivers of skin like sheers to lamb's wool. A cracking laughter thundered through the valley. The creature was going to have fun in this world.
And still to this day people whisper about the evil that awaits men who travel to the cleft, cause you never know if the creature from the abyss is going to be waiting there for you wearing the perfect blond hair of a young boy no older than twelve.