Archive for the Gravity Surge Category

Incomprehensible Sentence II

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on June 24, 2011 by GuNNhead

Another of the arbiter Yon-sogorath’s portals appears and thrusts me into a new domain. Into the caves of On’goz-shl’hg, I venture deeper towards another punished decree, a battle that would be with yet another interdimensional demon born of the celestial stars that I have crossed in my journey through the cosmos. The air is thick, almost like wading through something solid, and everything within my vision is covered in a moist film, lit by a strange, greenish bioluminescence. Mist shifts along the ground, scattering as I moved and followed the path that would lead to the beast’s chambers. Passing under an archway, I have to wade through water into the next chamber, and it sloshes and stains me as I slink through it. I’m getting closer. There’s some sort of fungus adorning these walls like a haphazard artistic pattern, mushrooms grown to about the size of a skull, with hundreds of long intertwining roots that burrow into the cave’s rocks. All of the extruding fungus bulbs are covered in a slimy, skin-like coating, far denser than the film in the past rooms. I pass by them, continuing into deeper waters that reach up around my thighs.

[͇͙͉W̫͍͉a͔̦͕r̦̟n͓͎͙i͇̪̙n͕̺͕g͖̟:̙͓͉ A̞̞͜i͎͇͜r̡͉ P͉̞͙r͍͖͔e͓̻̘s̘͎͚s͖̞u͉͍̟r͓̻e͙̻͖ D̺̦̺e̪͎͓n̺͍͉s͓͚͚i̡͚̙t̙̪͜y͍̫͙ A̞͍̪n̺͍͖o̠̺͕m̶͓̊ä̵̝́l̸͎͆ỷ̸̡]̸̞̀
[̞̝͍W͉͎̙a̙͓͓r̡̪̪n͕̫ḯ̵̼̠͙̈́̐n̵̙͇̓̽͊g̴̠͖̻̕͠͝:̵̦͖͖̐̽͌ T̸̞͚͆̓o̴̟̫̙͛͑͘x̴̼̫̿̽͘i̵͎̙̼̽͝n̴̘̟͉͐̓͝ D̵̡͙͉̓́͝e̴̘̞͖̽͘͝ŕ̵̟̫̫͑͆m̵̟̝͛̀͋a̵͇̻̾͘͜l̵̼͙̻̕͝ A̴̘̪̐̔b̸̞̞͉̐̒̾s̵̺͍͚͒͛͝ö̴͔̼̻́͐̈́r̸͔͕͛̀͘p̴̢̢͓̒̽ț̸͔̫́͝ì̸̢͕͖̈́o̸̢͍̟̿̚͝n̸̝͎̫͋͋͠]̴̪͉͍̓̐̓
̶̳̏͜ͅ[̷͔̜̰͋Ẃ̷̮͙̓̕ă̶̛̂͜r̶͑͜n̵̳̪͋i̴̠̓͑͠n̵̨͈̈́̄g̸̯̻̪͗:̵̙̂ ̴̥̮̾̆͘ͅP̷̡͔̜̈́̀̀ś̷̙̠̫͝i̸͕̬͗͐l̷̞̦̾̌̈́ỏ̷̥c̵͍̥̆́i̶̳̜͉͒n̷̺̦̉͠͠ ̷̜̽̊P̷͎͎̲͊̋̅h̸͍͍̑̍a̷̬̫̐̃͠ḷ̴́͌l̸̝̔̀ō̶͈͚̇͝i̴̫͐̍d̴̖͚̤̆̂̓e̵͔̎s̵̯̬̋ͅ ̷̩̪͑̃͜A̵̹̅͑͂m̵͈͂́ǎ̴̤̆t̸̪͖̤̋̓͠o̵̹̜̿͒x̶̱̍̇̀i̶̦͚̓̈́̿n̴̗̳̂͆̇ ̸̫͍̬̒̄̍Ṭ̴̳̀̐ü̶̧̨̳r̷̞̰͛̕g̴͇̺͒o̴̯̩͙̓̅͝ṙ̴̢̢͙]̷̢̥̈́͛̎

Then, I pause for a moment, feeling the sensation that something has shifted in the air, tension palpable, until suddenly, there was a violent splash, the expulsion of a large humanoid toadfish coming into view, swiftly slamming into me and smashing me through the overrun cave wall back into the antechamber I had just passed. I can barely regain my senses when the roots of the disturbed mushrooms spring to life, minds of their own as they shoot toward me, attempting to confine and constrict me as I dodge. I stare at the bulbous barbed beast, just as it is advancing rapidly, but before my eyes, it then surprises me by pausing dead in its route. The mycelium that was once pursuing me is now entwining it, bioluminescent fungal bulbs glowing brighter. It begins rapidly expanding, muscles and spiked skin burgeoning over threefold. I prepare for an assault, but am met with it exploding into a raging ball of gaseous fire, detonating all the fungus as imbedded charges, and I have no choice but to plunge into the grimy water to try to avoid becoming burnt, while the cave crumbles all around me as though it was made by the most fragile of pieces. Breaking through the underside of the mountain, the water drains out, pouring through the hole. I climb out, onto the underside of the mountain. I see it in the distance, this squid-like Elder God, sitting upside down underneath his own mountain. I climb out, and stand, righting myself as water flows upwards behind me, spilling into the abysmal dimension. On’goz-shl’hg watched, and awaited me.

Incomprehensible Sentence I

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Horror, Sci-Fi on June 13, 2011 by GuNNhead

The icy chill of space is offset by the strange, warm sensation of being tugged through the portal, and for a moment I feel as though I am burning, a collapsing star being dragged through this hole torn through the fabric of the universe. Formed as if a fingertip were to tear through tissue paper. Space and all its vastness could be so fragile, so easily ripped and collapsed and destroyed, and it is so easy to feel so small in a place like this, but also so powerful all the same, like a god among the burning balls of gas and floating rocks covered in sleet. The air feels strange here, tight and constricting, smelling of sulfur like a swamp, like some place I would rather not be. Disliking the atmosphere of it but at the same feeling too bogged down by its pull to do much other than succumb to it for the time being, usually dormant curiosity piqued now as I observe this little world I have been thrust into.

Pillars of stone floating in the vastness of nothing, scraping an indigo sky that seems to be a dome to this world’s atmosphere, clouds of fog drifting in some unseen manner, no currents to speak of to propel them along, almost as if they have a conscious effort to do so. And when the fog and mist parts, that is when I spot it, sitting there with two eyes like shimmering dark moons fixed in a bulbous head, misshapen and bumpy like mountains formed underneath pale green flesh, towering over me like a monolith, skin glistening with some sort of mucosa oozing from its pores. It sits and sits and stares, and I don’t like the way it is observing me, I would rather force it to turn away its gaze, but my power does not feel right here, it feels blocked by something unknowable, and I blame the creature for it despite having no evidence to believe that to be the case.

It opens its mouth and a tongue emerges like a tentacle, seemingly endless in its length and floating toward me through the sulfur clouds, as if it intends to swallow me as prey, and in response I leap up from the rock face upon which I stand, my powers not right, but able to be worked with for the time being. I will not let this creature best me, I refuse, and as I come close and stare into its void eyes and see my own reflection there within them, I know it knows I want it to die, and it will not go down so easily as it shoots its tongue at me once again, following me as I jump from rock to rock, evading the damned thing that acts like a sinister worm disconnected from the creature’s body. I try to concentrate, to rip the tongue from its mouth, but my power falters and fails and the creature almost seizes me as I dodge just narrowly.

Enough, enough of this madness. I focus, and something like what I believe to be irritation bubbles up within me, rage and anger follows flowing, allowing me the chance to channel my power for just a little while, enough to raise my fist and to stare down at the creature who now seems almost confused with what I’m able to achieve as the rocks lift themselves up from the void in which they float, sharpened edges turning inward to point toward the creature, and with all of my strength I command them to fly like spears, arrows of destruction toward the beast which cannot evade in time. I watch as the stone pierces the delicate flesh of its form, punctured and oozing blood and bodily fluid into the space, the creature screaming in some forgotten tongue as I watch on, ensuring it is dead, waiting until it stops its display of writhing as it is slowly but surely skewered from all angles.

My limbs feel weak and heavy, but I am accomplished, and with nothing but apathy I turn away from the beast to greet a newly summoned portal, a chance to move onward to perhaps a more favorable place. It is not uncommon that a creature should die by my hand, especially not one so annoying as that. Such is the way of the universe, in which every star that is born must die and every creature that lives must breathe its last breath, it is simply a matter of when and for how long that breath will last be breathed.

Celestial Atrocities

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on June 10, 2011 by GuNNhead

It was then that a dimensional rift tore open in the sky, the hue of it turning blood red and angry, as though the universe itself had become in tune with the terrifying nature of the creature that seemed to have slashed a gash through the atmosphere with its strength alone. It was the Horror, Yon-sogorath, one who can bypass Yog-sothoth. It is only through the datastream of my visors that I am able to keep my sanity at the sight of this horrid god, otherwise my conscious mind would be lost to me, fading away in the expanse of insanity. He began to speak through time and space to me.

“For disturbing the sky and its correlated dimensional beings, groundstage has been laid upon us all for an event that is not common to behold…”

Its mere presence was a creeping, pervasive horror that invaded the surrounding area, infecting everything in its wake. These beasts, these godlike creatures are not of this dimension, but they, like many of their ilk, are interwoven into the very fabric of reality, making it unreal, where the horrors may dwell freely within the dark ether between what is and what is not. For me, in this instance, these sights are an all too true reality of rifts over mountaintops, beasts, howling in terror and accompaniment, ancestors. It speaks out to me again, speaks in tongues I somehow intrinsically understand, as though it is communicating through the very fabric of reality.

“The request of this event was made at the behest of the interbeings who dwell in the other dimensions. Those eonic plains of a mystic other-space.”

Its manner of speech and texture of voice were all very impressive, if not a bit periphrastic. I quickly became bored of his recounting of history and listing of all the celestial atrocities I’ve single handedly committed. Remembering loosely something about an eternal punishment of cosmically enhanced dread-beings, I charge my armor, and attack this great old bastard. Translucent and invisible creatures attack me, and slow my ascent. I try to burn past them, but they weigh me down,

[Activate: Gravity Blade]

I slice through the atmosphere, as easy as breathing, flying towards the portal, but as I get closer, my visor starts to crackle. From the portal itself, this Yon-sogorath, he brings them. Not part of this dimension, my gravity cannot affect them here, and they enter my brain, bestowing me with the pleasure of fright, the feeling in your gut of impending death. The fear of death. I feel alive again, and for a brief moment, I cannot move. It is death that drives me now. I let it continue, let it swallow me whole, and I hear his voice, rumbling and shuddering, making me feel as though I will shatter into a million pieces with the frequency of it.

“Your punishment will be death, mortal of power. Torn asunder within outer realms. Your reality is but a mirror for our dimension, and for your rearranging of the cosmos and perturbation of Their chosen domains, those vexed shall dole out such retribution.”

Supporting Immortality

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on June 6, 2011 by GuNNhead

I sigh, and return to my planet, crushing the skull of one of the tyrannosaur as I land. I disintegrate its body with a burst of a gravity sphere. Taking off back into the sky, I think about my planet, it’s massive in comparison to others. I decide to head to my craft inside the giant skull, and look it up. Auto-pilot skips right over my entire solar system. I have to search for it by name. It’s marked as Disavowed. A desolate, banned no-fly zone on the Networks systems. Also says it was destroyed by me, and that it also may be my current hideout. I’m known as a destroyer, I can’t really deny it.

It’s become apparent that due to my powers, the planet itself will be in danger of attacks against me. My power, a magnet to destruction. A perfect test to all foolish enough to think they can pass, blinded by power. It is not safe, nor will it be able to outlast me naturally. I must undergo a variance shift. Stop focusing on the unknown aspects, my surroundings, my reality. I must build. This is my planet. I’ll make it worthy of my life, supporting of immortality. For one day, time will end, and I will be the last to experience it.

Until then, I must see to it that my planet, Loameria, the one connection, this mote of dust in the vast cosmos, remains as eternal as I. I return to space, covered in innards, and channel the power of the Gravity Surge, harnessing a nearby sun, and charge it so that it is equal to Loameria’s, and begin to entwine their gravitational pulls, with Loameria acting as a central focus of rotation; perfect weather with two suns. The other planets aid perfectly in setting up an infinity matrix of rotation that is as eternal as I: a constant pushing and pulling, an ebb and flow. So I never need worry about anomalies should I choose to venture out into the vastness of the cosmos once again, I set up one of my own, a force of density to protect this solar system, contain it. It’s all channeled via the gravity surge.

The time I had once been so focused on dissipates. It is of no consequence, and the journey of the celestial bodies becomes but a moment in my mind, but perception is everchanging, and years pass by without my notice. In the end, once it is complete, nothing was of any consequence. Time, I had to take note of, for the evidence that it can only be experienced of in the moment with or without the focus, but not once it has passed into the past. In any case, no longer can crafts enter this space. No attacks can be made without repercussions that I take no part in, only my vast and infinite power, used to repel. Not that the Network would try anything like that again: petitioned by rogues of a lost planet; I wonder how many I made homeless with the destruction of a galaxy, but do not care. Mere passing thoughts. I am above it all– or, at least, believe myself to be.

Life, so flourishing will not be harmed unless I am the one to do it. Not for the sake of life, not to cause no death, but because of its connection to myself. It is all I have, and that is enough to warrant its protection. Time will pass regardless. Everything will happen in time. It is inevitable. This is no reason to hold hatred for the unknown. It is time to enjoy what I do not know. The future. It is time to enjoy what I do know. My power. It is on this planet that I was born, and this planet I find myself. Nobody knows why, it is a pointless question. The real question is how. How will I live? Though I am driven to death, I do not need to embody the darkness of question. I am a being who is positively charged with power. It’s what I always wanted, when I lived. The power to kill everything, destroy the source of my hate. But hate has controlled my life for too long. I will not be frozen by internal conflict while I can inflict external pain, and I can do that beyond all in existence. I kill, it is what I do, it is what I revel in. I am myself, and no one else, and so that is who I will be and take only pleasure from it.

However, for some reason I can feel fear and dread swirling about me, externally, as a chaotic and seething wind…

It Has a Location

Posted in Fiction, Gravity Surge, Sci-Fi on June 3, 2011 by GuNNhead

I observe the wreckage, and wonder. It takes so little to destroy. Craters in flames, blackened, burnt ground and life. All only ancillary. Can my powers be used for anything other than death? I focus, it’s all always been intuitive before. My powers simply respond to thoughts, triggering paths of energy in directions. Can I rebuild life, in the same way my powers were once used, like they were within the time trap? I close my eyes and hold my hands out, projecting my power towards the wreckage, forcing it to flow through my fingertips, feeling my hands heating up from the energy of it. I imagine all the flourishing life I want to bring springing up from the ground, eschewing the metal frames, enveloping them among their tall branches and lush canopy, winding around them as though they are trying to suffocate the steel. When I open my eyes, I see a horror of sharp, condensed stone, a dangerously thorny mess of death. The wreckage hangs open, an omen of death. I make the best of it, and reorganize a few of the pieces. This will have to do.

I continue my small existence without space travel, a punishment for having destroyed the only thing my mortal self once held dear. My fault, this was all my fault. I refuse to let the Gravity Surge indulge in the expanses of the cosmos. Irresponsible, stupid. Everyone I’ve ever known is now dead, and I killed them with my rash decisions and idiocy. I tried my best to avenge their deaths with my power, but it was all my fault in the first place. However, since The Network now has my whereabouts under their surveillance, solitude is now a mission of impossibility. I am trapped under the eyes of reality. Every piece of scum in the universe knows where to go to test their powers. Loameria. Once a bastion for science and goodwill, a staple in The Network’s databases of how a human society has the potential to operate, now destroyed, buried and blanketed by the frightening energy of an anomalous time field, and then finally the known location for one sole inhabitant, The Gravity Surge, the most dangerous being thus far known in the database.

The entire galaxy has practically become a dead zone, civilizations wanting no part of such danger, and yet, somehow, within the darkness that envelops it all, some life persists somehow, or perhaps it would be a bastardization of the word, to refer to creatures and beasts and beings as something like life. Most cannot reflect upon existence. Sometimes I wonder why such beings want to persist at all, in a place so desolate; is it because they simply have no other choice? Do I have any other choice in this universe. Do they all have access to some sort of drive I never had in this space continuum where all too often I am a prisoner to the swell of the continual marching onward of time? Contemplation to be saved for another day; in my ruminations I’ve unconsciously ascended beyond the ionosphere.