Third Party
{This ending is part of the Finish the Story Contest, the 26th contest so far. Click here to see the contest… The prompt was crafted by @f3nix this week... (I was tempted to add "Country roads, take me home" after seeing this, but well... you'll see)... Two music pairs: ”Calabi-Yau Model (extended)" [1.] (HL2 OST) and “Spellslave” [2.] (Dan Salvato, YT, the DDLC guy).}
Banner done by @f3nix
The Prompt
The moonlight descended on the east side of the Wagner Tower like an ancestral bone dust. The ectoplasm of a vague awareness crossed a tenant’s mind seeking for oblivion: finally, the dull blows coming from God knows what remote corner of the old building had decided to quit and he would have slept. However, between the seventy-fifth and seventy-fourth floor, a particularly fine ear could have still seized an intermittent, stifled counterpoint of voices.
"I feel that this unusual condition is helping us bring out some interesting perspectives, Mendo." In breaking the silence, the psychotherapist's voice had soon lost its initial momentum.
"..."
"I want you to know that this time won’t be billed, go ahead if you feel like it." She tried to assume a playful expression. Hidden underneath her short suit jacket, Dr. Wallace's fingers were nervously playing with a fluorescent orange rubber bracelet.
"No-one is ever suspended, not even now with seventy-four floors of nothing underfoot..."
"Well, this is certainly a positive observation..."
"Shut up, you don’t know a shit." An almost calm remark, pronounced with a firmness that hit Dr. Wallace like a bucket of frozen water.
"Have you ever thought, doctor," Mendo continued, sharply spelling out his last word, "that the fear of emptiness, the horror vacui as they defined it in the Middle Ages, is nothing but the unconscious and desperate attempt to look away from the ultimate truth?"
Since the elevator had blocked its descent, the patient had confined himself to a corner on the opposite side of the entrance. His left leg was now dancing grotesquely, animat'd like it had a life of its own and in contrast with the cadaveric stiffness of his other body parts.
"I never thought of that." Dr. Wallace wisely responded in brief, observing for the umpteenth time the assistance number carved on the elevator control panel.
"Mmmm...” A growing moan on the other side of the narrow cabin.
If only she had known, she would have never asked Mr. Anatoliy “Mendoza” Volkov, an extraordinarily subtle personality, to follow her downstairs after that emergency therapy session in her office. On the other hand, he was one of her first and most challenging patients. Furthermore, he used to pay awesomely.
"Because the void swarms." Now his eyes were on the doctor, sunken out and bugging out at the same time.
"Soon they'll free us, do you think you'll keep writing that song you were talking about?" Dr. Wallace ventured. She realized that the silk shirt was soaking with her acrid sweat.
"It's the Yellow King's dominion, he comes from the void, it's him who made me do those things. I did not want to." His whine ripped open in a sinister vocal of terror.
"Mendo .." She did not know what to add. Now the doctor's hand, behind her sweating back, was pressing the assistance button convulsively.
His wide open eyes. They had stopped staring at her and now they were pointing up, right behind her shoulders.
"Mendo, what's up?"
"The Yellow King. He's here."
The ending by @theironfelix
The elevator stopped on the floor, awkwardness slowly setting in the elevator 'til it opened revealing a darkened corridor lit by the elevator lights. Mendo's eye lit up finally seeing the Yellow King in person but soon dreaded as the image was torn down and a dark-myst constituted to place with a red-flame ball. The dark-myst spoke:
"Ah, yah were trick'd into believin' the Yellow King would personally come to yer behalf!"
Mendo began sweating convulsively as the Doctor began to feel unquestionably calm - yet she hadn't a clue why she was, the dark-myst spoke again:
"Yah know, 'tis a travesty I struggle against Has... the Yellow King. But who'd trust mere excess of the Outer Gods?"
With those final words, the dark-myst wrapped around Mendo's body and dematerialized them from existence. Turning to see the Doctor, she heard:
"Peckneck tried carvin' an elder sign, Doctor. Anyways, come with me if yah want to live."
"Who are you?"
"Excess animated and correctin' th' Great Old One's crap.... Wait, do me ears betray me now? Is that "Country Roads?" Oj nie, we'd better peck off now."
"What the..."
"The dæmons are diabolical with t'eir music choice of haunting... guess th' Yellow King got pissy 'n' now's sendin' henchmen! Yah might want to jump into me..."
"... Fine by me if it means survival."
As the Doctor jumped into the dark-myst, the dark-myst snapped the cable cords with lasers coming from the red-flame – plummeting the elevator. Yet they casted a clone to fool the dæmons below while they marched towards the galaxy hopper. Seeing through the clone's eyes, the henchmen were closing in and made the dark-myst giggle as they tried bludgeoning the clone. Yet knowing the charade can't be kept forever, the clone was finger-snapped back and the dark-myst hopped a galaxy over to evade confrontation for now. Upon securing the package, the Doctor was let out and confused with her new surroundings - stuck on a floating archipelago of stony islands dizzied her. The dark-myst affirmed:
"It shall shortly change, but yer not sufferin' because o' th' form I plac'd yer consciousness in... for now 'til yah develop insight resistance, which might not be a struggle for yah."
The doctor looks about her body and noticed her squid-humanoid body - the dark-myst spoke nonchalantly:
"Yah see. I only took yah for one prospect: yer resistance, the repression of the unconsciousness, was rather strong and we haven’t seen such for a while."
"Me... me! How long?"
"Eh, half-century... Anyways, yah'll be a great modern resistance model to study - current ones are outdated. Withal, fret not for yer days of analysis are o'er, yah'll help us restore chaos back into order that's been depriv'd of its source of creation by these sniveling, conniving ærses."
"Why is this universe…?"
The Doctor fainted which the dark-myst noted higher doses of insight resistance is required... Then they heard Shu'ulathoi wails:
"I wonder how'd they fared with them Medievals? Surely only Xarag to fear..."
I'm trying to place the dialect...:)
UwU ~ Thanks for reading! Anyways, I can give you a hint: the Skeleton War is a month away. Here's another: ever considered what a Scots-Irish having a Polish-Caribbean (exampli gratia: Polish mercenaries siding with the Haitians in the Napoleonic Haiti war) child that turned Pirate would sound like?
No I haven't :)
Well glad to be of service then. Anyways, had to much fun screwing around with dialecics of characters.
No point in writing if it's not fun
Ayy lmao.
This is like Neil Gaiman and the late Terry Pratchett teamed up once again to write a short Good Omens spin-off, Cthulhu mythos flavored.
Need to improve my English to fully enjoy the nuances of the jargon!
Reading your endings is like trying to interpretate an ancient cryptic scroll.. not for the faint of heart! I liked that common thread between your stories, an idea you already explored and that gives a sense of circularity and interconnexion.