Deliver Me From Evil

by Mikel Classen

God, what have I done to deserve this. I had always thought that I'd led a good life; don't got me wrong, I'm no saint, but for some reason I've been chosen to be the victim of this unimaginable horror. I'm recording this in desperate hope that I am the last to set foot in this unholy place. My story is of the utmost importance. I have little time so I must be quick because I have much to tell. Lack of food and water has taken its toll, so I know that the next time she comes, I won't be able to resist her again.

It started about a week ago or maybe it has been only a couple of days, it all seems the same in this timeless place. I needed a break and there was a beautiful day beginning in Halifax, Nova Scotia. This was my day off from work, so I decided to take my eighteen-foot, one-man sailboat out for a trip up the coast.

I set a course that took me north along the rocky coast for most of the day, pushed by a stiff breeze. The smell of the sea, the clear sky, the cool air of autumn, my favorite music on the miniature portable cassette player/recorder, all made for an intoxicating mixture, as it always does. This was the prescription I needed, the only way to spend a day off.

I relaxed in my seat next to the tiller. I felt comfortable, at ease with the wood beneath my hand and hearing the crack of the sail overhead as it billowed out to its fullest. The euphoria and the movement of the waves eventually made me drowsy.

Suddenly, I snapped upright in my seat. Something was different; I just couldn't figure out what it was. I didn't think that I had dozed off but I couldn't be sure. It seemed to me that I had been following the music on the tape closely and it was playing the song that it should be playing. I reached down and put it in the rubber lined pocket of my coat.

The coastline looked the same but it appeared as if I had traveled a bit farther off shore than I planned. This didn't worry me much. It was easy enough to rectify. I turned the tiller to compensate for the drift. It wasn't long and I realized that the shoreline was still receding. If something didn't change, I wouldn't be able to see it anymore.

Now I became a little apprehensive. I didn't have the proper equipment for navigation and survival for any extended length of time on the ocean. I was afraid that if I lost sight of the coast, I would also lose my bearing towards my position in the water. I leaned hard on the wooden arm in a quickly becoming desperate attempt to correct my course. I strained as hard as I could, but the boat was caught in an overwhelming current. The tiller felt like a giant hand was holding the rudder in one position, refusing to give up its grip.

I refused to give up too. The wind died leaving my sail slack and limp above me. Swearing to myself, frustration started to get the better of me. Sweat began to drip into my eyes which added to my aggravation. The tiller slipped out of my perspiring hands and swung back fast, cracking me in the stomach. All of the air in my chest flew out. Fighting dizziness and trying to catch my breath, I stood, supporting myself against the chrome rail that ran around the edge of my boat.

Then, I went back to my fight more determined than ever. I leaned into the tiller with all of the strength I could possibly muster. All of the muscles in my back and legs could be felt starting to knot. After I had kept this up for a few minutes with no noticeable results, a sickening crack snapped and I almost flew overboard from the sudden breaking of the arm. The piece of tiller that I had been holding flew out of my grasp and landed in the ocean.

I stood and dumbly stared at the broken boat-piece as it floated away. It drifted quickly, much faster than I could ever hope of retaking by swimming. A sick feeling came over me. Spewing more profanity, I drew my arm back, and in a fit of rage, pounded on the boat with my fists until they hurt so much that I couldn't take any more. The useless piece of oak had already drifted out of my sight.

There was no possible way that I could fix the damage or rig a temporary arm until I made it back home. I'm very conservative about what I supply my boat with, because space is limited and it keeps me from loading the boat with a lot or unrelated and seemingly useless items. Now they didn't seem so useless. Besides I was only planning on going out for the day. I tried to rationalize my negligence. Now it seemed that my conservatism might be my downfall. I was angry with nothing that I could really be angry at other than myself. I sunk back down in my seat next to the broken tiller, depressed.

The current carried me along like a fallen leaf in a stream. The farther it carried me, the more speed my boat appeared to pick up. It was starting to get dark and I was getting scared. I'd never been in a situation where death was a very real possibility. What the hell was I going to do now? The only food that I had was some emergency rations that might last two days at best.

There was no radio that I could transmit with. I had flares but they were useless until I spotted somebody. Traffic in these waters can be scarce at this time of year. I tried to reason my situation rationally, if that was possible.

Darkness crept in leaving sleep about the only thing left to do. If I slept, then I'd be awake and alert to search the water for possible help in the morning. There was no more that I could do, so I laid down. Sleep would take my mind off from being hungry temporarily; my rations were the most important thing to me now. The last thing I saw before slumber, uneasy slumber set in was the stars shining above in a beautiful display, framed by a perfectly clear sky.

I was startled awake by the sound of crunching wood accompanied by the cold wet of rushing water. Immediately, out of reflex, I leaped up from the bottom of the boat as water began flowing around my ankles, climbing farther up my leg every second.

Darkness around me was nearly total. The stars were no longer visible. I had to act fast because my boat was sinking rapidly. I couldn't see anything of my surroundings, so I made a quick but groggy decision. I leaped overboard abandoning the wreck; my rations and flares were swept away by the sudden rush of water when the hull apparently collided with some rocks. I knew that my life preserver would keep me afloat, but I didn't know how long I would be able to take the water of the north Atlantic without freezing.

My head spun as I hit the icy sea driving away the last remnants of sleep that was clouding my brain. My legs felt sharp rocks jutting up from the ocean floor. If there were rocks this close to the surface, then that must mean that I'm somewhere near a body of land. The swift current, still prevalent, grabbed my body and carried me rapidly and helplessly away from the disappearing remains of my boat which was being consumed by the sea.

My body was like a rag as it was thrown repeatedly against the rocks looming everywhere, appearing like black specters in the dark suddenly reaching out and inflicting pain where ever they touched. A cut here, a bruise there, I felt like the sea was using me as a plaything. I tried to reach out and grab onto one of the rocks. I was swiftly being carried past, but my efforts were of no avail. Again I was buffeted up into a hard stone surface that caused more pain on my cold, bruised, and lacerated body. I'd never be able to endure much more slamming around. A wave filled my nostrils with putrid seawater; I blew it back out snorting and choking. My nose and throat burned from salt as did every scrape and scratch. All of the wounds on my body felt as if they had their own individual fire. Another faceful of water tried to smother me driving the breath from my lungs. Artificial stars flashed as my head was bounced like a ball off one of the rocks. Suddenly, again it was smacked and I sank into the depths of unconsciousness.

I awoke, though I never thought that I would again and now I wish I would have drowned in agony from countless cuts and bruises along with muscles that were cramped from the cold and fighting with the current. I instantly rolled over and started to empty my stomach of all of the sea water I had swallowed. I laid there after the convulsions subsided for a long time and thanked God for having saved me, but now I realize that my miraculous survival had nothing to do with God. The prone position calmed my muscles, likewise my stomach, down to a level of tolerance. Next, I decided to get up and see where salvation had put me.

All about me was darkness, but uncannily my eyes could see rather well. The details of my surroundings stood out starkly. It was strange and couldn't be accounted for by any way that I could see. No stars or moon was out, clouds must have obscured them before my ordeal. Everything around me was black rock. No plant or animal life of any kind could be seen in any direction. This was a disappointment, but I wouldn't let it bother me yet. I was just lucky to be alive.

There was an overpowering, sickening smell that polluted the air. It was nauseating, nearly causing me to vomit all over again. Something dead must have washed up and was decomposing for a long time. With that current, things must wash onto this place all the time.

I began to walk the shoreline, always keeping it on my left. The going was rough, constantly climbing up and down over jagged rock and slipping on the slick stone. This place was so oppressive, dead and barren; the darkness but still being able to see, the smell that made me gag at every breath along with the complete absence of life, all combined to give the impression. How could such a disgusting place exist?

I speculated where the sea had deposited me. Had the current carried me back to the mainland or did I have the misfortune of landing on one of the countless islands that littered the coast? If I were on the coast, at least I'd be able to eventually find some fresh water from one of the many streams that flowed throughout the north country. Eventually, I'd be able to find some food when daylight came so I'd be able to venture away from the seashore. I knew much about survival in tight spots; though I've never had to use the knowledge before, living in Nova Scotia where it is miles of some of the roughest wilderness in the world between settlements, it's a necessity. One did not last long without the knowledge of emergency survival techniques. Suddenly I got my answer as the shoreline took a sharp turn to the right and I realized that I was going in a completely differently direction. I felt my heart ache as my hopes were once again destroyed.

It looked as if I was on a small rock island with no sign of fresh water or vegetation of any type. I couldn't even spot any signs of seaweed that might have been thrown on the rocks by the ever pounding waves. All signs gave the idea that I was in for a very slow death. I resolved to explore the entire island before I resigned myself to such a destiny. I couldn't allow myself to believe that I had survived just to endure a worse death than I'd been saved from.

I scrambled over more rocks for what was probably hours when I reached another point that sent the shore once again off sharply to my right which gave me the picture that the island was roughly triangular shaped. Instantly, I noticed that the sea was much more turbulent on this side of the stone prison. The stench that seemed to be everywhere had doubled and appeared to be coming from the direction in which I was heading. I tried to go onwards, but the smell was too hard to take. Whatever was creating it was completely rotten making me sure that I didn't want to see what it was. I decided to turn around and go back because of it when I saw something move in the rocks ahead. I yelled, but the crash of the waves breaking on the rocks made the effort futile. It was only a glimpse, too small to make out anything, but I had to see what it was, stink or no stink. I clambered ahead with renewed strength.

As time passed, I began to think that maybe in my desperation, I was seeing things, that possibly my mind was conjuring images that it needed to see to give me some purpose or direction so that I wouldn't just give up and die, but I felt certain that what I saw was real; it just didn't seem like a hallucination. My muscles tightened and cramped again as I clawed my way after the apparition; they forced me to stop and let them loosen back up. I didn't relax long, my excitement to see what else apparently existed here made me too anxious to stay in one place. If what I saw did turn into an illusion, I wasn't sure I could take that last shattered hope.

With these thoughts, I hastily took up pursuit of what I thought I saw. I was suddenly bathed in cold as I had to venture close to the shore where a wave broke on the rocks next to me. My coat protected me some from the wet but most of it still managed to get inside of it and on me. Rounding a large upjutting rock, I caught a glimpse of something white; it looked like there was some kind of human resemblance, but again, I couldn't be sure. As quickly as it appeared, it disappeared. Now I knew that this was no hallucination.

I scrambled up a slick rock when in my haste, I cracked my knee. Bolts of pain shot up my leg making me nearly lose my handhold. As I tried to regain my grasp, I tore a fingernail completely off. A yell involuntarily escaped my throat while agony went through my hand every time I tried to regain a grip. Blood flowed over my hand every time I tried to regain a grip. It continued down my arm in streams, more so when pressure was put on it from climbing. A sheer high ridge then stood in my way; it might as well have been Mount Everest. It was a gruelling climb that stood before me, a man with as many injuries as I had or for one as exhausted as I was. The reality that I would have to rest for a few minutes before attempting the climb was too apparent which frustrated and angered me; I was afraid that I would lose whatever it was that I was chasing and then lose all chance of escaping this barren rock.

I leaned back against the side of the ridge where a nook was carved into the stone. Settling down, I felt the cold chill of the hard stone pressing against my back making me shiver. I had to hurry and get moving. If someone did live or exist here, then they were my only salvation.

I was enraged with myself for having lost the time and possibly my only way to stay alive. I hoped, no prayed that I'd still be able to find whatever or whomever I'd briefly seen. I tried to lift myself up but I immediately had to sit back down. There wasn't a place on my body that didn't throb or ache in some intense way. I leaned back and surveyed the ridge that barred my going onwards.

Even this simple movement caused pains to run down my neck into my back. It was still dark around me which made me think that light never came here. The wind was the only thing that seemed to have changed, though it was nothing drastic; it had picked up slightly causing the waves to sound even more ominous. I gazed up into the luminous obsidian gloom and studied carefully the contours of the rock for most accessible way to climb.

If something was to be found in this thus far barren isle, it had to be on the other side of the ledge above; there wasn't much of the island that I hadn't explored except for the center. This was my last hope to find any food or water; desperation was eating at me, pushing.

What could possibly exist on this smelly lifeless place? I couldn't imagine anyone living here by choice. If someone did live here, they must be eccentric as hell or on the brink of insanity.

I slowly maneuvered myself into a standing position which was agonizing to maintain. I concentrated to block out the pain but it didn't work as well as I would have liked it to. Finally, after long study, I traced a manageable way to reach the summit.

It took determination to start the long slow climb. The simplest motion was next to impossible, but hunger was gnawing at my gut while salt parched my throat. These things drove me onwards taking strength from reserves that I never dreamed were there. The higher I climbed, the rougher the ascent got, making the thought of giving up more appealing all of the time.

Looking down made me fearfully aware of how steep the rock wall actually was. The thought of falling filled me with terror, to drop only to land on the sharp rocks. What if I could survive an accident like that with only a few broken bones, forced to lie without being able to move; never knowing if help was only a short distance away? I shuddered. What a thought. I could picture the entire incident in my mind's eye vividly, as if it had actually happened which sent rushes of fear and uncertainty through me. The mind conjures the worst impressions when under extreme circumstances. I continued my climb with even more care than I had before. My premonition was not going to become reality.

Finally, my fingers reached the top. I pulled myself up and rolled onto the small plateau that was the summit. I let out a long sigh of relief. At last I would be able to see what was beyond. I had accomplished what I was seriously beginning to doubt that I was going to. The smell attacked my nostrils like waves of water to a drowning man, smothering me. I didn't think that it could possibly get worse. It made me picture everything in the world dying at once, left rotting for eternity, decomposing but never farther than the stage of being maggot infested. The stench was so bad that I doubt that even maggots could live in it. If death had an eternal smell, then this would have to be it multiplied several times. I gagged. If anything would have been left in my stomach, I would have lost it.

Again it was a long time before I settled myself down enough to make even the smallest movement towards the completion of my search for the elusive flash in the rocks. As I laid there, I turned my head scraping it on the rock, hoping to see what was before me. Below me was a shallow gorge. Another ridge like the one that I had just climbed made up the opposite side but this wasn't what grabbed my attention.

At the bottom, nestled up against the other rock wall, a greenish-yellow glow emanated. It was the only source of light that I had seen since I'd been regurgitated here by the sea. The strange light was illuminating what appeared to be a stone structure of some type. From where I was lying, I couldn't make out details of it clearly. The glow made it hazy and distorted. My hopes took off soaring in anticipation of shelter, food and cool fresh water. I only hoped and prayed that inside the structure that wretched smell would no longer be present.

With renewed hope I began my descent to salvation. I tore a strip of tattered cloth from the bottom of my shirt for over my nose and mouth. It helped reduce the smell slightly but it was still gut wrenching. I negotiated the downward climb with even more care than I had used coming up which I didn't think was possible. It was nerve wracking to have to go so slow, but I couldn't allow myself to get seriously hurt this close to the end of my ordeal. I needed to get somewhere so I could rest and recover. Besides, if someone really does live in this awful place, they must have some way to get off from here just so they could acquire supplies.

My foot slipped on the constantly wet rock surface causing me to fall about ten feet to the floor of the gorge. I landed with a jolt which crumbled me into a ball. I tried with regulated breaths to catch the wind that had been driven from my chest. My head spun creating a world that wouldn't hold still; it kept flying past my eyes at an unbelievable rate of speed. Sparks and spots accompanied it. I was afraid that I was about to pass out, but I finally fought off the feeling before it was too late. After awhile I got my head cleared and my breathing back to normal. I turned to look at the object of my possible salvation. I was now quite close to it. My teeth became clenched while my breath was imprisoned in my chest. I was stunned at what my eyes showed me. I very seriously doubted what my brain was registering as sane reality. Closing my eyes, I turned away and shook my head in hope that when I turned back that I would see what was really there and not the image of something out of a bad dream, but when I looked again the scene remained unchanged.

I was never really sure what it was I was looking at. It was an entrance of some type which was supported and surrounded by square cut black stone pillars that flared out at the top like classic Roman columns but much cruder. Each block was massive making me wonder how any number of humans could ever have put them in place.

Between the pillars stood a stone doorway with some kind of archaic symbols or writing inscribed into it. They were a type I'd never encountered before anywhere, in literature or museums. Though I didn't know why, looking at them made my flesh crawl. Above the doorway was etched into the stone a bizarre creature with a pair of wings that were adorned with brilliantly colored feathers. The only evidence of any color other than black on the entire island was here. Where the wings came together, instead of the body and head of a bird, there was that of a long snake's torso which gracefully divided into twin cobra's heads. This wasn't what really shook me.

It was the source of the light. Seated above the snake's heads was a human skull supported by a thin slab of stone that was cut precisely to the cranium's proportions. It was at least four times the size of a normal human head. From the eye sockets of this emanated the uncanny glow. It made it seem as if there was a life that existed inside of the skull. I was aware that it was impossible, but it still looked eerie. Whoever lived here must be insane.

My eyes were drawn to the glow. I looked into where two eyes should or had been. I felt that I could do nothing else. I was drawn uncontrollably. Looking deep, it seemed as if the two sources of the eerie radiance began to get brighter and grow the more I gazed into them. Then, slowly and vaguely at first, but then more clearly, I started to get impressions in my mind.

Thoughts of death, then not death. Living, living for eternity. Then the pictures formed. Faces appeared. Faces of torment. Slowly I began to understand though I'll never know how. They were the faces of those that had gone through the door before me. They were so horrible. Hundreds of faces paraded through my mind; the countenances of the unfortunates that had been stranded before me, probably under the same circumstances. All of the faces wore grimaces of terror, of pain, of agony, and etched with eternal remorse. The visages looked as if they were carved out of stone like everything else around, the ashen pallor, the immobile sameness of each one. They didn't move. They simply went on displaying their eternal misfortunes. The visions frightened me beyond belief.

I could feel that I was being drawn towards those unnatural orbs. Slowly and carefully my soul was being sucked out and devoured by, by whatever it was that existed there. I know now that there was truly something that had found a home inside that skull. Somehow it had planted the knowledge in my brain. My God how could it have come here?

Unreasoning terror started to well up inside me. It built and built until I felt like I was going to explode. I had been cast away on the unholiest place that infected this planet, maybe even the universe. Realizations of the dire necessity of escape poured through me in torrents. I tried to fight, to break it off but the influence came back at me all that much more powerfully. I began to sweat. I didn't think that I could in this cold damp place. My head ached and swam. My weak state was making itself increasingly more evident all the time. I saw the faces of the damned beckoning to me, inviting me in my mind's eye. A hissing came to my ears, or was it in my head? The sound, unclear at first, shaped into words. "Come, come to us. Be one of us. Be with us throughout eternity. Death doesn't touch here."

I was doomed. I was certain that this was to be my fate. I thought my last bit of sanity would snap. A scream escaped my throat before I was aware that I was doing it. It was a scream that used and took everything I had. The control was broken. The desperate act that had taken every fiber of myself had won. I tore my eyes away. An instant rush of adrenaline went coursing through my veins creating a blind panic.

The flight from that God-forsaken place was just a jumble of slipping and sliding, more bangs and bruises which I didn't even feel in my mad scramble to get away. I had never been so desperate to escape anything before in my life. I didn't care what happened to me as long as I got away. My body and mind was numb. The shock lodged only one thought into my brain. Escape! Run! Get away! I had to get off from this grotesque travesty of an island. New cuts and scrapes covered my body, but I didn't notice them. I ignored everything except my singular objective. I was afraid to look back. What if something or one of those poor unfortunates that I'd seen so vividly displayed in my mind were pursuing me? I didn't know what I would have done then. More terror at just the thought gripped me spurring my flight all that much more.

I reached the sea on the opposite side of the island. I stood staring into the black water. I could run no further; this was it. There was only ocean now. Maybe I could swim away, but I knew in my condition, I'd never last. The decision came quickly; death in any form was preferable to entering that doorway.

I dove into the oily cold water. Instantly the current grabbed me like it had a life of its own. I tried to swim against it but it was futile. I struggled and wrestled with it. Diving under, I hoped to get a better advantage against it, but my exhausted body was immediately thrown back onto the stone shore. Refusing to give up, I gulped air as soon as I thought I could make another attempt. I tried again. And again. And again. The same thing happened.

I laid there for awhile trying to absorb it all. If I couldn't drown, then I'd starve to death or die of thirst before consigning myself to life without death or in this case, it seemed to be more death without life. I'd simply stay here until life just left me. If there was any way I would help it, I was not going through that door; this I vowed to myself.

I don't know how long I stayed in that one spot, but one thing was for sure, day should have come. Somehow I knew that it wouldn't arrive; I'd never see the light of day again. No light could ever penetrate here except that ghastly glow. This was a place where darkness, where any sort of light of salvation was an impossibility. I was an insect caught in a spider's web struggling vainly to get away. It was a matter of waiting for the predator to come and consume its prey. The only thing that I could do was to try and cheat it of the pleasure of the kill. It would have to come and get me, then physically drag me away from this spot.

I tried to rest but it was useless. Memories kept me awake accompanied by hunger, thirst, and the beating my body had taken. My experience at the bizarre structure kept haunting me. The smell, always present, reminded me unceasingly of the death and horror that this island existed for. The entire thing was one large trap that had the aid of the sea that surrounded it. It all worked in concert to drag unsuspecting innocents here to satisfy the hunger of whatever evil abided in that massive skull. Every time I closed my eyes I saw that accursed fleshless head with that unearthly intelligence that existed where eyes should have been. The whole terror and blind fear of the devouring would come back to me in an instant always leaving me breathless and perspiring heavily. The perverse sickness of it all? How could anything or anyplace like this ever come into being?

Something moved behind me. I reflexively jumped quicker than I thought I ever could. My mouth hung open as I stood staring. This time I was sure about what I was seeing; I just didn't think it was possible, but none of this should be possible though it is. It was a woman, but more than a woman. There was nothing like her. I hadn't even dreamed that one like her could exist; she was beyond my realm of imagination. She could have been every beauty that had graced history down through the ages in one wonderfully unique package

She was Helen, Cleopatra, Delilah, Garbo, Monroe; all of these plus any others that wars had been fought over and men had died by the scores for merely a glimpse of. She wore a shimmering gown that gave the impression of shifting and changing unceasingly. First it would look solid, then it would change into a translucence that slightly revealed the beauty that was concealed there waiting for passions that are only dreamed of and only she could inspire. She had long flowing hair of a silverish color that glistened and shone giving a metallic impression that made me think that her hair was silver threads. Light emanated from her flashing like when bright sunlight reflects from the scales of a silver fish on a clear day in a stream. I was convinced that these brilliances were due to my overactive mind and the weakness of my eyes that were used to nothing but black. At this point I was beginning not to be sure about a lot.

Her face was exquisite in shape and form. The slowly ascending cheeks, the hint of chin, her porcelain nose, and the aristocratic forehead of Marie Antoinette were all there along with the uncommon qualities that made all exquisitely beautiful women that way. Her beauty was unparalleled. She smiled and I felt a tidal wave of emotion and desire wash over me. All else was forgotten. All I wanted to do was have and possess her. No other thought could enter my head. The feelings, emotions, uncontrollably flooded through me becoming more intense every second. I wanted to caress her body, to smother her perfect lips with kisses. She was driving me to a height of passion that only beauty like hers could inspire simply by its presence. It rose like the temperature of a raging fever. Oh how I wanted her. I needed to make love to her passionately.

Then I looked into her eyes and I knew. She had come for me, to take me back to my doom. She had one purpose, to deliver me to the inevitable fate that awaited me. Deep in those eyes burned that same hellish light that inhabited the giant cranium. My attraction turned to revulsion. I tried to look away but it was impossible to tear my eyes from her beauty. Once more I was trapped.

I don't remember taking a step, but suddenly we stood before that evil entry to an eternity of suffering. The skull looked down upon us and it seemed to smile if that was possible; here it appears that anything defying explanation is probable. The glow from those eyeless sockets was much brighter now. I felt panic building inside of me once again, it was becoming a familiar feeling. I tried hard, almost superhumanly to hold on to a rational state of mind. The woman reached out and grasped my hand. Her touch seems cold, wet, like that of a reptile's then turning warm, almost feeling human, then grows hot until I felt as if my hands were being broiled; then going back to cold repeating the cycle incessantly.

She steps toward the door leading me reluctantly with her. My legs move with hers as if she commands them. I try to use my willpower to make them stop and go the other direction but they seem to have a mind of their own. This appears to be my destiny and I'm powerless to do anything about it. My brain races with thoughts going through it so fast that I think that it will overload and burst.

In front of me, the obscure inscriptions take on a slight radiance of their own causing them to look as if they had detached themselves and were now suspended in air. As I come closer, they pulse picking up the rhythm of my heartbeat. I can hear it throbbing in my eardrums and feel it pounding in my chest. The harder it thumps, the brighter the inscriptions pulse.

Visions once more start to impose themselves on my overtaxed brain. I see the birth of the Earth; the boiling seas, the erupting volcanos, there is nothing else on the young world. They are all and everything, yet in the midst of all this there is one thing more, there is one place that rejects creation, a thing that stands as an insult to nature and natural order. This festering sore on the planet already exists, already ancient. Spawned from the ultimate evil it stands as an incarnation of that evil, reared simply and only for the sake of that evil, standing from time's beginning and falling beyond time's end. It is a monument, a shrine, an alter, a balance, a necessity to the universe and the planet. Nothing will ever destroy it; nothing will ever escape it.

I'm pulled ever closer to the door. I try to resist but nothing responds. I know that the efforts are futile; desperation and panic drive me to continue. My will seems drained from me. Before me the ancient entrance cracks as it gradually opens in preparation to receive me. I try to break free again as a new urgency for escape presents itself. It only displays more clearly how much of a handicap my weakened condition has become. My desperation turns into maniac obsession as my need to escape this terror is screaming at me inside my head.

My nonresponsive legs force me ever nearer. The entrance stands fully open in anticipation like a giant maw waiting to swallow me. All that is beyond is haze leaving fate beyond the doorway a mystery until the crossing of the threshold. The haze inside the door swirls and moves as if it were alive too, but it never goes past the boundaries of the entry as if it can't.

My face is blasted with that putrid stench. It forces me to start gagging uncontrollably. My lungs are unable to find breathable oxygen making it impossible to catch my breath so I feel like I'm being slowly asphyxiated. Shapes form in the mist of another universe. They meld into the faces that I had glimpsed in my mind before. They still wore those ghastly masks that depicted torture and suffering so vividly. Disembodied hands and arms become visible reaching out to me, waiting to help me into the hell that was to be my new home forever.

Screams and cries of agony assail my ears until I feel as if I'm going mad; maybe I already have. The volume increases as I draw nearer. The grasping hands and bony fingers become impatient, clenching and unclenching as they sense my closeness. The fingers look more like talons for ripping meat and tearing flesh than they do human appendages.

The woman steps across the threshold entering her own world. I vaguely realize that I'm standing directly under the skull. Her leg shimmers as it enters the plane beyond. It melts, transforms, and melds into the tail of a snake. Fluid wells up into the back of my throat and stays there. Something snaps and I leap backwards. The woman, beast, creature, whatever she is, falls forward as I break her grasp. She transforms in front of my eyes. Momentarily I watch the monstrous winged twin-headed cobra slither back into its lair.

I turned and fled as fast as I could, but even as I ran I knew that I was again postponing the inevitable. I had no idea how I had once again escaped what was the unescapable; all I knew was that I had and that was good enough, at least for now.

Again I took refuge on the other side of the island which is where I record this. My miniature cassette recorder is still with me and by some miracle, the only one I'll probably see, it still records. After I'm through I'll replace it into the watertight coat pocket and throw the coat into the sea in a probably futile hope that it may be carried away from here to warn others, but the current will likely throw it back onto the shore. I shudder thinking of the next time she, it, will come to take me. I'm too weak to fight anymore. I only wish that I could die before she returns, but would that even save me? I lean my head back and look up. Nothing is there except blackness and emptiness. I scream: "God please help me. Deliver me from this evil; let me die!" The plea seems to fall in front of me. I end this praying that this record should somehow find its way away from here.