The Dark Verse

O come, all ye faithful.

Excerpt:

There were always so many people on the beaches those days of the summer’s heat. They came with umbrellas and coolers and inhabited small squares of sand for the duration of several hours. Together, their grids of spaces collaborated into a small metropolis of unacquainted population. I walked those beaches, but I never took part in the mass accumulation. I would put on shorts and a loose-fitting shirt that blew in the wind and set out upon the coast, letting the tide wash in and out atop my steps. I would watch the sand-bedded congregations as they slept, flew kites, and swam in the water. These days were my favorite of the year.

Occasionally, on those walks, I would come across lost things: a fin, a board, a pail, a shovel, or some other trinket of sand- and water-design. One day, at the setting of the sun, when most had packed up their things and left, I came across something far greater in craft. It was not so visible, but visible enough. Part of it stuck securely out of the sand during the bottom of a low tide. Though the waves still ran over it, it showed itself often. Normally, I would not bother with such things, as I never kept anything I had found. This time, however, I was compelled to behold the object abandoned in the shores.

 24: The Coming Of The Unexpected [18:36m]: Download

Catch me if you can.

Excerpt:

It came from the distance with patience and dedication. From a point of origin lost beyond the seas of matter, it traveled, setting out upon a path to reach the destination of which it chose—ages before knowledge was an aspect of existence. Once the path was formed, it did not stray—not for time or desire or any other manifestation of choice. It made but one decision in its life and no more. Perhaps it knew the stars, or perhaps it knew the art of divination, for its entrance into linear transfiguration was immaculate. If it left too soon or strayed too late, it would miss its goal and perish in shame. Like threads of fate, it knew the lengths of everything that lived, from birth to death.

Its character was benign, but its intentions were demented. When considering the borders and grooves of both things good and evil, this entity succeeded in being something that could be categorized as neither. Everything that encompassed its purpose was against the very grain of what was believed, in fashion of faith and the calibrations of spirituality; purely, it destroyed belief in all of its shapes, forms, and functions. It did not think ill upon anyone or anything, nor did it have affection; it did what it did for it was what it knew.

This thing of extraordinary life and unlimited boundaries was no inhabitant of realms most traveled, but, like the bees and the flowers, its catastrophic ways were a hidden element of nature. The event of its arrival was very rarely seen, but I did witness it, and that, unlike the rest of humans present and past, was how I learned so much about what I call, the skulker.

 23: The Skulker [13:10m]: Download