Tekele-li

          The alley is dark under the stormy evening sky. All that can be heard are droplets of water casting slight echos off the already pooled rainwater lining the muddy path. Everything is a blurred haze right now for Edgar, trying to make his way home through an intoxicated fog. The wind kicks up a deathly chill all around him, whipping his coat around in a fury, knocking loose an empty flask.
          Edgar has thoughts of his past in his head as he walks. He thinks of Virginia, gone too soon. He considers Lenore, gorgeous in death for sure. His mind begins to wander to thoughts of Reynolds. Jeremiah Reynolds. Scratching his head, Edgar wonders why that explorer came to mind. It was his explorations that spawned the not so warm welcomed book about Arthur Gordon Pym. It was his very name that created confusion in Edgars poor drunken mind.

          Something wholly apart from the echoing raindrops catches his ear, forcing a shaky look between two darkened houses. It was so very low, almost inaudible in it's rumble. Whatever made the sound is enormous, shaking the ground underneath his feet with reverberations through the gravel. Edgar begins to stumble backwards, very slowly shaking his head in dismay.

"Eeeedgaaarrrrrr Pooooooeeeee?"

          Edgar simply sways in response, still shaking his head making the motion look more circular in nature.

          A figure steps out from behind a moss-ridden tree. He looks aged. Not old, Edgar thinks, aged, as if he had been placed into a time warping machine adding on years upon years of life to his young frame. The voice though, still clearly recognizable even through the low toned slurring. The explorer, Reynolds, the very same that had just invaded his thoughts and the very same that was presently negating the effects of some very pleasant rum.
Edgar had met with him only once before, and this was definitely the same low voice he remembered. and thusly Edgars mind clears, however temporarily.

"Iiii wouuuuullllldd d d d liiiiike to sssshhhshshooooow yoouuuuu whhaaaat Iiii fooouuunndd at the mooouuuunnntaaiaiaaaiainnnssssssssss......"

          As if prompted, a giant writhing shaped begins to rise behind the decrepit version of Jeremiah Reynolds. It's mass is not a body of any shape Edgar could recognize. The mere sight causing him to fall back onto the sodden earth and strike his head on a large rock at the edge of the alley.

"Wh... what.... what is that?" He asks his old acquaintance.

"Thiiiiisssssssssss iiisssssssss SHOGGOTH!!!!" Jeremiah screams back at him.

          The rising, seemingly gelatinous, mass begins to erupt with eyeballs opening and closing, moving and staring. A chaotic sense of dread completely overcomes Edgars mind as a deafening roar comes from an origin within the beast unseen.

"TEKELI-LI!!!!!!!!!!!"

"TEKELI-LI!!!!!!!!!!!"

          With that call, all that was Edgar Allan Poe became null. The mind that once drew up visions of beauty in death, of dread in the shape of a roosted bird, is wiped clean from the terror. Left behind is nothing more than repeated visions of the hell that was brought to him as a dark souvenir from the farthest reaches of his understanding. He will be found in short time, yet it will not be long until his body gives and allows his mind free travel to the oceanic depths of R'lyeh.