The Golden Avatar (Original Content)

[Dean]

Allright, I've had this idea for a story for a long time, and since I suck at writing stories for long periods of continuous time, I thought that I might write this one on a post by post basis. The story will get into the plot slowly, but what you need to know (if you haven't read a lot of Lovecraft) is that in Antartica there is a city called Unknown Kadath where there is a room at the top of an onyx tower. In this room sit the gods of men, their size shrinking or increasing based on the numbers of believers they have, but they have no power, as they are under the control of Nyarlathotep, the crawling chaos. This Lovecraftian plot will be combined with (as you guessed it) Discordian stuff, but I'm planning it to be a horror book, although it will probably be more science fiction.

In any event, I'll start writing today and hopefully it gets moderately long before I lose interest (which i probably will eventually, which is why I don't end up finishing a lot of my stories). But if you like the story, tell me, because praise will probably make me more motivated to actually attempt to finish the story (maybe).

[Dean]

   In front of a gate, at the end of a dark road, is where Jessica Walker stands. The sign on the concrete post holding up the iron gate says “Waste Management”. The iron of the gate is a facade, barely thick enough to conceal the titanium bars beneath. On the post, underneath the sign, is a small disc of glass, through which she is being watched. Retinal and facial identification algorithms are pounding away at her features in the vast complex behind the gate. The gate starts to slowly open and Jessica picks up her leather briefcase and walks in.
   The ground is covered with an inch-thick dusting of snow that crunches underneath her feet, and the sky is an overcast and snowy white. The thick falling snow lands in her brown hair masterfully pulled up in a ponytail behind her head. The business suit and briefcase say business, but her certification into this program mean that she is anything but. What Jessica doesn't know is that her lack of seriousness will save her sanity when she sees what is inside of the large, looming building veiled by the falling snow.
   The long path walked, she stands in front of the steel double doors at the entrance to the building. They slowly open, powered by huge motors, revealing that they are three inches thick and have hinges like a blast shelter. The lobby is warm and clean, bathed in a yellow light from a chandelier reflected off the hardwood floor.
   She walks up to the receptionist and begins to speak when an old man enters from a door on the left side of the room. “Ah, Jessica Walker, it's so nice to meet you.” He advances eagerly on a cane, his white hair flying about like a madman. He enthusiastically takes her hand and pumps it up and down. “I'm Gaius Kohlman, you didn't have any trouble getting here did you?” Recognition lights up in Jessica's eyes. “Dr. Kohlman, it's nice to meet you too. I wasn't expecting a waste management facility, but the camera was easy enough to recognize so I knew I was in the right place.” “Ahh yes, they still use the cameras over at home base do they? I almost never leave here, so I haven't seen the camera in the front for ages. We can't use cameras lower than the first floor here, not since business picked up.”
   Jessica looks puzzled, wondering why camera use wouldn't be possible in an FBI facility. Gaius recognizes this and quickly says, “I suppose I have a lot to explain to you, why don't we go downstairs and we can start your introductions.” He turns back to the left side of the hall and Jessica recognizes that the door he came out of leads to a silver elevator.

   Hurtling down 48 floors in just under a minute leaves Jessica feeling slightly queasy. When the doors open, she is greeted with the sight of 10 men lining a hallway, all with automatic rifles standing at attention. As they walk through the hallway, Dr. Kohlman addresses each man by name in a cordial manner, to which they respond with a curt “Sir.” At the end of the hallway there is a tall set of doors 10 feet wide by 20 high. They are barely distinguishable from the concrete around them and Jessica suspects that they are also reinforced like the ones in the front of the building. Dr. Kohlman reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out a black disc in a wire frame folded flat, and a conductive ink pen. He flips the black disc into a horizontal position within the frame, and it looks like a gyroscope. In the act of flipping the disc, the light of the ceiling quickly reflects off of the surface, showing an intricate network of printed metal wires almost like a PCB with two fat silver circles for completing the circuit on the top of the disc. “You see,” Dr. Kohlman addresses Jessica, “the doors are specifically designed to stay shut unless a stabilizing field is introduced near them. This keeps those little fuckers from getting out.” Jessica asks “What...little fuckers?” Gaius uncaps the conductive pen and closes the circuit on the black disc. The disc immediately starts spinning at a high velocity and the printed circuits on the surface glow red hot. The doors crack open and slowly begin to swing back. “These little fuckers” Gaius says as the doors open all the way and Jessica is greeted to the sight of an immense warehouse full of black spheres, the air crackling with the sound of a thousand madly spinning gyroscopes barely keeping their evil back.