The ease with which I dispersed the surface layer of sand was perhaps a deceptive introduction to the work that lay out in front of me; the soil has become more troublesome to excavate the deeper I’ve gone. It’s been almost four hours now since I began this tenuous dig, the mountain of earth steadily piling up behind me reaching almost double my height. Despite this, I have made little progress - the dune is too big, and its core is layered in rock and gristle - a simple matter of excavation, you’d think, but no; the hard work lies in perspiring beneath this scorching sun. My arduous work is not without purpose - deep within this monumental hill lies a secret. A secret that, I’ve been led to believe, holds a considerable wealth of knowledge. This secret, I intend to unearth. Of course, this is all predicated on my ability to continue digging without being buried alive.
The study of that which lies beyond our comprehension has engulfed me for most of my life. It has never left my mind - scratching, gnawing at the back of my skull. Despite my vigorous attempts spanning the majority of my adult career, I have been incapable of quenching this ravenous thirst. Countless deliveries of books, innumerable experiments and endless inquiries have brought me no closer to any gratifying resolution; the further I delve into what limited knowledge exists, the more insatiable I become. It is an obsession, plain and simple. To be sure, I have come to understand a great deal about my own perception, cognition and behaviour. It is not that of a sane man. I fully recognise that my yearning is unsustainable - I’ve long since been isolated by everyone that I knew and loved. The incessant hunger and the insatiable desire to try and understand the world around me, is a terrible curse to bear.
Among my earlier years of this ceaseless pursuit is when I felt the most inspired. I was not yet alone, and my drive for information was waved off by many as an adolescent enthusiasm that would mature out as soon as I had further responsibilities. It was not so simple as that. What I sought were answers, questions that had lingered unanswered since the beginning of recorded history. I sought to fully comprehend that which lay beyond the veil of our minimal perception, and the rules that govern it. My beginning research led me to many corners of the globe, and the people who lived in those places. In far off lands, I found others who felt as I did. I found allies who were willing to aid me in my work. Soon, I was amidst a large group of like minded individuals. Those who, like myself, had a certain eagerness for things beyond us. We were the early adopters, the explorers, the pioneers of a new field of study. With determination and faith, we could uncover the secrets previously inaccessible by humanity.
But this was all theoretical. We had struggled to come up with anything material - a consistent dilemma in this line of study - and many were becoming apathetic. A great deal of my colleagues abandoned this fruitless endeavour for greener pastures, other pursuits that did not carry a simultaneous rapacious hunger and absolute lack of sustenance. The few that lingered only remained because their craving was too great, too overwhelming to entertain the thought of cutting it short with nothing. I was among them. The work was not dead, but it was certainly not as vibrant as it had once been.
Research slowed. Collaboration reduced to the occasional letter - often describing one’s abjection - and scarcely providing anything of interest. Tales were told of a few archeological sites in obscure corners of the world, but most of us were dejected enough to ignore them. The few papers that were written were met with yawns and apathy. Over time, the numbers dwindled further. Either through eventual substance abuse or finally succumbing to reenter society. The work was becoming increasingly difficult to sustain - it was not only the absence of any development, although that was considerable, it was also the loneliness. Someone I had seldom worked with, but had contributed a large amount to our research, met a definitely grave end. The desolation in their life had clearly taken its toll. It was no surprise when this colleague, in his mid-fifties, threw himself off the side of a bridge into the murky water below.
What once was a group of young and motivated academics had diminished completely. I was alone in my old age, both socially and intellectually. But my hunger, my demanding desire for knowledge, did not desist. Indeed, it only became more insatiable. Further inquisition into a particular lead brought me very little, but it was enough to keep me determined. For months I dug deep into anything I could find about a supposed repository buried in a massive dune, far into an expansive desert. Whispers of untold wisdom, secrets uncovered by an ancient civilisation from before life as we knew it. The search consumed me. I had long forgotten the need to eat, to sleep or to walk. I lived in a perpetual state of excitement and wonder, and when I did sleep, nightmares plagued me. Unimaginable fears of what could lay below, deep under that mass of sand tormented me. For months I lived like this, a madman living in a delusion; an ascetic fool obsessed with finding a relic that might rid me of my curse.
It became too much to bear, my mind unraveling every night into terrible fantasies of what I may find. It was one dream, one cold night that pushed me off the edge. A dream so uncharacteristically clear, so incredibly real; I stood on the precipice of a deep hole in the middle of an endless desert. It reached into the far reaches of the void, with nothing but darkness to observe. It wasn’t for a lack of light - the sun was directly overhead, burning into my scalp. It was as if nothing was there at all. A complete lack of matter beneath my feet, just waiting, patiently, for me. I stared into this great unknown, this fantastically horrifying mystery laid out before me. Despite seeing nothing, in fact it was like I was blinded, I felt like something was staring back at me. From deep within the depths of nothing, the harsh blackness pierced my mind. Unimaginable fear gripped me, shaking me to my very core. Deep, silent murmurs sent instructions down my muscles, and my legs obeyed.
I immediately started packing for my journey into those endless desert plains. There was something very real about my mind’s machinations that night, something so decidedly authentic that I was left with no choice but to try and find this hill myself. My obsession that had been so cruel to me, encompassing my entire life, may be finally satiated by this mystery in the sand.
A sudden hardening of the earth beneath me suggested that I had made some progress into this extensive hill. Upon further prodding, my shovel was met with great resistance - I had found a solid object, something atypically impenetrable amongst the wealth of flowing sand. Excavating the sand around this phenomenon revealed that it was larger than I first thought. I hurriedly cleared the remaining sand, trying desperately to unearth this curious item. But the hard surface continued outwards; no matter how much I dug, this hard surface - which I could now see was certainly some sort of stone, a dark greenish blue - seemed to stretch endlessly.
I eventually did find the edge - quite suddenly I’ll remark - a harsh corner that seemed to continue further down into the soil. Additional clearing confirmed my beliefs; I was standing atop a stone square, approximately three meters wide on either side, perfectly carved off at the edges at ninety degrees. I had an inkling that this stone mass extended far below, so I exhumed mass amounts of the surrounding sand. The tall, dark aquamarine pillar towered over me, it must have been over ten meters tall. Hours of back breaking work, my eyes stinging from the sand and my flesh searing from the heat, I had managed to uncover what felt like only the peak of something larger. The obelisk showed clear signs of craftsmanship; it seemed to be a perfect prism, fashioned with great precision and balance. The pillar, despite its apparent hardness, was carved with the precision of a diamond. The enigma of why this unnatural monolith was buried underneath a hulking sand dune was not lost on me. I walked around the prodigious monument attempting to comprehend the anomaly before me. Digging further down only heightened my dread. No matter how much earth I cleared, this formidable object seemed to stretch into the depths of the sand endlessly.
The sky was beginning to darken. The heat of the day was giving way to the cool of night. I sat dejected and mystified against one of the many piles of sand I had created in my excavation.
I had just finished lighting a meager campfire, when I heard it. A deep, reverberating rumbling - almost like a train passing by - seemed to permeate the air. The train station was leagues away, there was nothing around me but the oceans of sand. The rumble was growing louder and louder, like the distant roar of an engine. My body rattled, my teeth chattered, my head spun. The ground began to quake, the piles of sand shifting and sliding against each other. My eyes were drawn to the obelisk, piercing out of the earth. The sides of the pillar were now set alight by intricate golden carvings, etched into the unknown rock. Fear flooded my mind; utterly inhuman designs burned onto the pillar - hellish depictions of beings entirely foreign to man. Horrifically twisted creatures whose very appearance denied description. Worst of all were the faces; grinning, snarling, howling, or simply glaring with unknown intent. They stared down at me, unblinking and filled with malice. My curiosity, my lifelong yearning for even but a glimpse beyond the veil had become my greatest mistake.
The roaring grew even louder; vibration ran through my flesh, my bones. I could only run. My legs carried me away from the abominable secret I had uncovered; the pillar and its eldritch carvings, and all the way into the desert night. Of my frantic journey I remember very little. I believe that in my delirium I sang a great deal, and laughed oddly when I was unable to sing. I know that I collapsed, lost in that blasted desert. That I know for sure. I had ascended a particularly large dune for reasons unknown to myself, and immediately fell to the ground. I could no longer spot the glowing anathema, but the deep rumbling had not ceased.
I kneeled on the sand, exhausted and hysteric. My endeavour had been successful. But it was more of a curse than I could ever have imagined. I was kneeling before a god. That much was certain. Was this the god we served? This ancient thing, the knowledge of which had stayed hidden for all of history. Whatever that accursed obelisk had been erected to, I knelt before it. My eyes closed, I wept. Tears flowed down my face, a torrential downpour. I wept for my foolishness; for my pride, for my hubris, for my insolence. I wept for my ignorance. I stayed there, looking at the backs of my eyelids for a considerable time. And when I opened my eyes, I was only relieved at what I saw. A familiar well had opened up in the sand before me. That recognizably endless void which I had seen in my dreams but two nights ago. This hole which had tormented me, was now intimately comforting. I looked into the profound darkness, and was beckoned once more. I cried more, but it was different. I was gleeful; there was a smile on my face, and my body no longer shook from the roaring. I fell, and I fell blissfully.
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