top of page
  • R. S. Lachrymose

To those who may follow (Cathedral I)

I write that these events and horrors may not fade into obscurity. That my insights may not be regarded as the ramblings of a mad man, bereft of reason. Though I fear it may be true of me by the end.

I didn’t know where I was. I was surrounded by dark, cold, a haunting energy in the air. I intuitively felt that it was not safe here. I found myself on damp cobblestone, surrounded by a fog so dense it seemed to press itself into me, willing me to stay down.

In this oppressive darkness, only a dim light in the distance beacon end me. A dim strand of undulating pricks of light led the way to what I can only hope is sanctuary from this unnatural chill.

Fyreflys. Humble fyreflys acting as my lifeline. Leading me onward to the dim light, which waxes in strength as I approach. The shape took form, becoming corporeal as I approach. An old cathedral, dilapidated stone as black and decayed as the sinners who might have found solace here.

Either by fortune, or by intention, the massive doors were open. The dark wood exquisitely carved. Were I not at death’s door, I might spend longer admiring the craftsmanship. It is as though the entire doors were naught but a nest of snakes, though with no heads that I see. They almost slithered in the light of torches hung to the side, a thin viscous liquid just coating the surface. As I pressed to move the door open, I would have sworn they shuddered at my touch.

Inside, dark pews encircle a podium, raised above the floor. A massive pillar in the middle, though, unlike any I have seen. It flows, organically, with a slight curve as it reaches almost to the top of the lofty dome of the cathedral. Almost like an immense creature, reaching a tentacled extremity to the ceiling in some act of desecration of this place. Though this doesn’t seem to be an act of vandalism, rather, something constructed by intention. The curved pillar glistened, similar to the serpentine doors outside.

Though I’ve escaped the cold, my pulse quickened and a heat flooded my body. A figure sprawled at the base of the pillar…

Recent Posts

See All

Tentacles (Cathedral IV)

After the intensity of the scene I witnessed, I welcomed a moment of reprieve. The deity column slowly swayed upon its base now, the Succubus seemingly within its depths. Sitting upon the cold stone f

The Ritual (Cathedral III)

I didn’t know how much time passed: minutes, hours. So entranced by this being was I that the scene has seemingly morphed in front of my eyes. Scarcely did I believe it to be real. The column, once ri

Lust Embodied (Cathedral II)

I don’t know if the shock dropped me to my knees or the exhaustion, perhaps both. The high stain glass windows would have allowed moonlight had there been any. A new moon gave no such quarter. No, wha


bottom of page