Wednesday, October 12, 2022

The Ancient City


Some time ago, while I was in La Boca del Diablo, on my way to the Zone of Silence to do some weekend camping, my van ran over some scattered pieces of lumber on the road outside of town, and one of my tires went flat. 

As I was preparing to change it, a tall old man with a long walking pole came by carrying a burlap sack filled with what he said was game he had trapped in the desert.  He was a strange old guy with a stranger way of speaking.  His voice was deep and clear but with an accent I had never heard anywhere in my travels.  It sounded Eastern European to me, but I could not be sure and I didn't bother to ask his origins.  He wore a long wool overcoat with its collar pulled up around the back of his head.  This, along with his wide brim hat, managed to conceal a good part of his face so I could not say what he really looked like.  What was apparent was that his eyes were an unusual shade of green and they seemed to shine in the darkness around us.  This in itself was disquieting.  But while I was busy changing the tire, he beckoned me to look up at the sky.  Across the firmament of stars, a single craft was passing silently with a luminous radiance surrounding its circular shape.  The old man began to comment on it as we watched it glide across the moonlit night. 

He said, "Do you know who they are?"

I had never seen a UFO before and I was spellbound.  "No," I said.  "Do you?"

And it was here that he related the following story to me as we stood on that dark desert road, watching the shining disk moving slowly to the east.  He spoke in odd speech patterns, almost poetic, but once I began listening to him, I remained silent:

"In some ancient long ago," he said, "the distant land they lived in teemed with an abundance of life, the vegetation was verdant and lush, with the inhabitants carrying flesh upon their burdened bones.  In that time, the expanse of the hard terrain was hospitable to the old ones who walked this piece of solitary earth, hidden by inaccessibility rather than ignorance of its existence. Shunned for superstitious fears, the abandoned city rests on high majestic mountains, pinnacled beyond any glimmer of civilization, nestled in scraggly valleys bathed in shadows and caressed by roving winds that howl like injured beasts."

At this point, I was astonished to see that the craft had stopped moving.  It was still and quiet and glowed in the sky like another moon.

The old man continued: "Immeasurable centuries have passed since the old ones roamed the streets of their primordial metropolis fashioned from stone with techniques that are as mysterious as they are forgotten.  The city sits hewn from the very mountain rock it rests on. Slabs long and wide are fitted one against the other, piled high and strong to boldly mock the passage of mortal time.  Those beings who built this terrifying place never left but vanished into the deepest shadows of their forbidden city, unseen to the naked eye but vividly perceived by the inner mind where they frequently appear to sleeping souls in troubled dreams.

Tall structures tell of their alarming stature. Swarms of crawling reptiles now plague the outwardly abandoned city, slithering over stone foundations laid out when giant lizards walked the rustic earth.  Cold stone configurations possess the secrets of their might, their true encryptions known to them and them alone.

The seasons have seen the coming and goings of these unique creatures that time has relegated to the beyond; yet, unseen, they remain, ingrained like silent energy in the ground that bred them, nurtured them, and absorbed the seas of blood they spelt upon its rugged land. The sound of silent time has crept over countless years like hidden, swarming serpents, masking their dreadful presence, knowing of the secret horrors perpetrated on the unsuspecting masses of the languorous earth.  Through the prisms of their being, they cajole the rest with twisted madness and distorted reason, seeking to crawl deep into the sanctity of our dreaded fears, pledged only to hunt for man's collective ruin.

The quiet mountains surrounding their forgotten city give witness to the radiant ships of light that come from it, rising crafts conceived by beings of darkness wholly unfathomable to the minds of shallow men. In these, they ride with the renegade dead, feeding on our mutant emanations and horror filled desires, carving our sins into edible morsels, and feasting on our stagnant fears and corrosive hatreds.

They fell from the stars in a past forgotten time, not solely to propagate or spread their seed, but to create, control and rule over a newfound kingdom.  They fully claimed the earth, rolled with its timely changes, endeavoring to create the sentient beings that would give them an unending feast of crippled and corrupted souls.  A troubled lot they knew and cared for nothing more.  Malicious longings reach for war in all its trappings, in every form conceived.  And this alone is all that rules their way of life, this alone and nothing more.  
 
We belong to them, they say.  We are their chattel and their prey. 

In myth and lore, you will find their legacy, their trail of vague deceptions.  Their phantasms are conceived and conjured to mystify the minds of mortal man.  In mad ranting, you will find their sway, and in the eyes of frightened men, you will see the carriage of their will.  With cunning slight of hand, they endeavor to make us think that our duplicity is our desire and our desire alone. 
      
Unseen, they walk among us, haunt chaotic cities and rural towns, patrol the skies of continents and stroll the passages of our flimsy structures at their singular resolve, invisible and cunning, blending into open shadows and stalking in the glare of morning light.  They walk the bloodied lands of war in triumph, these creatures of abundant intellect decry our worth with derisive scorn, viewing our flesh only as a banquet fit to gorge upon and nothing more.  But over that, our minds and hearts is what they truly want and seek to have by any means at hand. 

While we glut on pork and beef and fowl of every kind, they seek to fill their otherworldly entrails with the eternal essence of our immortal souls, seasoned with the bitterness of our afflictions.

Look high into the star filled sky and if you spy their glowing crafts among the billowed clouds, pray to any god you will that they don't take you to their ancient, awesome city where your valued heart will find a darkness known only to a few, and there upon their throne of madness you will surely die."

That is what the old man related to me on that cold night while I looked at the iridescent craft that hovered silently as if to listen in on what was being said.  But it wasn't what he said that frightened me.

When I took my eyes off the ship to speak to the old man, to ask him how he knew all this, I could not find him anywhere in sight.  He had come and left as quietly as that.