Demiurge

I’ve heard before that one shouldn’t believe anything they hear and only half of what they see. I find this mindset dreadful yet here we are. I have quite the story for you. You’ll hear me out, won’t you?

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“Did it work?” A man with a hesitant smile looms over you. His eyes jitter about. Sweat drops from his brow as he mumbles. The candlelight barely illuminates his face.

You don’t know him but his name is Gabriel. Gabe to his loved ones.

Gabriel produces a smart phone from his pocket. Blinding light exudes from the device. Your vision goes white though it doesn’t sting as you would expect. There’s little sensation really. There’s a faint sense of touch. You realize you can hear and you can see. You cannot move, try as you do. You cannot panic, but you cannot be relieved either.

“It really did - it really worked!” Gabriel cheers and wipes at his eyes. Phone drops, forgotten. He scoops you up into his palm, brings you to his chest, and falls back. You rise with his chest with each sob.

All is dark within his grip.

After a long moment, Gabriel unclenches his hand and lifts you up. The same wet eyes with a whole new expression. You can see a little more of the room from this vantage. Candles. Books. Drawings - sigils? Glyphs? One particular symbol catches your attention as it appears on multiple objects. It’s difficult to discern in this lighting, and you don’t recognize it.

“Can’t believe I did it,” Gabriel smiles. Fragile as it is, it’s a warm smile. His gaze steadies into thoughtfulness. He sits up and spins you around in his hand.

“I don’t suppose you can speak?” He asks.

You can’t.

“Figured as much,” He sighs.

Gabriel grabs his phone from where it bounced when he discarded it. He takes a picture and starts texting someone named Helena. You don’t know her either. After a long stretch of Gabriel typing, proofreading, and revising his message, he hits send. His focus returns to you but the phone never leaves his other hand.

His eyes are locked in on you but his attention is far away. He appears to be weary. He remains like this for several minutes. You can only speculate what is rattling around in his mind.

He blinks and looks at his phone. No response. Something from deep within is choked down and only a long exhale escapes.

“She’s probably busy,” Gabriel says with a strained chuckle. “Everyone’s always busy.”

Another few minutes pass, now his eyes stare at the floor in front of him. If you could, you’d be grateful to not have a real sense of time. This man apparently only operates in these brief intervals.

His phone buzzes. He unlocks it and opens the message with such urgency. Helena’s message is simply Where are you?

Gabriel types out a lengthy response, then deletes it all and replies with just the address.

After some time there’s a knock on the door and a woman enters. Gabriel has exchanged most of the candles with electric lamps, albeit only for marginally better lighting.

The woman who is presumably Helena looks over you with curiosity while Gabriel beams with pride. He shows off his intricate work - the meticulous arrangements and glyphs. It doesn’t make much sense to you, but she seems to understand it. She’s even impressed by it. She produces a book of her own - much larger than any in the room - with that same symbol. Together they flip through its worn pages.

“We’ll likely need to transfer this entity to a higher state of being - a golem should suffice. Then we might learn who they are,” Helena holds you up like an appraiser. “Blue lace agate? Excellent choice for such a lens. You are quite impressive for an acolyte.”

Gabriel couldn’t muster a real response to the praise. The two begin arranging new candles and glyphs, along with a few crystals this time. A few of the glyphs are drawn on the spot. You remain silent, watching it all from the center. Some pieces seem to come together as they discuss things. Not that this insight is of use to you.

There is mention of an Argus Panoptes - context clues suggest it is a name but whose? This symbol is meant to be an eye, or a collection of eyes? Then there are the Powers That Be. As far as you can tell, Helena answers to the Powers That Be and Gabriel seeks to join them. Their contrast catches your attention. Gabriel’s mind seems to race and his speech is nearly as erratic as his hands. Helena however is composed and precise in her every move.

Soon the room has been set and Gabriel leaves to find clay for the ritual.

You are alone with Helena. She looks over everything as if to verify something, then she calls someone on her phone. She refers to the person on the other end as “Master” and explains to them how Gabriel may be worth bringing into the fold after all. She elaborates that he has a gift for rituals and successfully summoned a spirit. You cannot hear the Master’s response but Helena appears pleased when she hangs up.

After a moment, Helena approaches you with a curious expression. She muses for a moment then references her large book again. She shrugs and begins an incantation. You’re not sure what to expect from it, but she suddenly gasps and writhes as some unseen wave washes over her. Her eyes seem to shimmer now. She extends a hand to you as she stares - not really at you, but through you.

Helena’s expression twists from disappointment to terror. Her eyes widen and that’s when you feel something. It’s subtle. Buried in the back of your head. It grips and twists at your understanding until it stings. You’ve been solid, rigid, definite in shape. Now, you’re liquid. Viscous. Syrupy. Pooling out. Helena’s hand remains a distance yet you feel her fingers dipping into you. Invasive yet painless. Sickening.

Her touch strains your being. She shudders and pulls back.

“W-what are you?” She mumbles under her choppy breath. Her body steadies itself with great effort. Helena’s eyes peer around the room like she’s never seen it before. You only observe and nothing more.

Gabriel returns with a lump of clay. By this point, Helena has fully composed herself. The clay is set next to you and they begin working it into a rough humanoid shape. It is anatomically impressionist at best. Two eye holes are smoothed out, one more recessed than the other. A small cavity is formed in the chest. Gabriel uses a thick needle to carve a strange script across the clayman’s body.

Helena conveys her Master’s praise for Gabriel’s work. His eyes brighten like a hopeful child. Then she tells him that the Powers That Be will be arriving soon to see his handiwork in person. He chokes back a shudder. After a deep breath, he returns to his etching.

Something slows in Gabriel. A weight pulls at his core and he starts to sink into unseen depths. You want to label it fear or disbelief - but in what exactly? You can guess but you do not know.

As Gabriel finishes the last of the carving, Helena hands him an unremarkable dagger. He cuts his hand and flinches. Red drips into the clayman’s chest cavity. Helena smoothes out the chest to cover the pooling blood. Then, with care, Gabriel sets you into the deeper eye slot of the clayman. You feel warmth.

Gabriel smiles. There is a knock. Helena opens the door. A number of silhouettes march in. They encircle the space. You recognize none of the faces in the dim light.

“You may begin,” Helena says, voice cracking. She clears her throat. Her practiced smile seems to be cracking; however, she maintains her poise.

Gabriel looks from her to one particular figure amongst the Powers That Be and that person nods. Gabriel counts himself off and begins reciting the incantations. You feel a familiar intrusion pulling you along your edges.

You could scream. You’re pulled taut with such tremendous force and then pulled more.

The room is a blur - not visually. Actually a blur. It is the impression of a room with the impressions of books and candles and glyphs. There’s a swirling shadow with a multitude of eyes watching on as if for a miracle. There’s hot searing pride shielding a cold hunger that chants nonsense and colors.

You could weep. You're so scared of leaving this brief momentary life Gabriel bestowed upon you. You feel yourself tear away from the rock you inhabit. Then comes brightness. Sharp lights maul you while the threat of darkness creeps in.

It stops.

The suddenness of geometry and dimension returning to the world causes your mind and your gaze to ricochet wildly. In slow pulses, your senses return. You hear commotion, uproar. You see Helena cower away into the crowd of spectators as they crawl toward you. You see Gabriel drop to his knees and clutch at his head. Despair has him. You reach out to him - you can move! You have something which resembles a hand. You sit up sluggishly then lurch forward.

The veil stretches thin.

Do you see him there? Do you see poor Gabriel? Gabriel sees you. What color are his eyes? What image do you conjure up when you hear Gabriel? Hold onto that. It’s all that remains of this world after I stop writing.