Am I Not Glorious?

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TerranTechnocrat's avatar

Literature Text

If you kept its form pressed to your dead angle, you might be safe. It was trying to enter your soul through your eyes. Still, you knew, elementarily, its body could not enfold and germinate out in that sacred hyper-dimensional volume so long as you kept your vision averted. It smelled of copper and vinegar.

In the darkness, it implored you to look.

"Gaze upon me. Am I not glorious?"

It is unwise to confront its voice.

"The light of my origin did not beget you," you chastised, breathing through the corner of your mouth. The visible form almost pressed against you, forcing your eyes to either edge of their sockets. "You are not of the land, and you are not of the sea, you are not of this earth, you are not even of the stars. I do not recognize you. Be away."

"You are alone. There is nothing but myself and you. Let there be one — let me inside."

You were almost to the door. Blackness outside, but even submission to an abyss may be preferable to being blotted out.

"You are not of the God of my creation or any living thing. You are parasitical, one which derives its well-being from the deprivation of the other, an affront to life and humanity. You are wickedness. Away with you."

Black clouds sank in through the periphery, obscuring your vision. It bled in through your secondary cognitive functions, assembled link by link, connecting an image from the half-blurred figure. A pattern was emerging, it was getting inside of you.

You had arched around the table and were pressing through the door. The glass gave way, transitioning to a permeable that allowed your passage, and you stumbled out onto the blackness and escaped into the unknown, sunless landscape.

An invasive organism that exists partly in 3-dimensional space but only uses it as an infection vector to invade and germinate inside the human soul via 4-dimensional space.
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