#megalomorpha

Yes! Tío Alfredo is canonically trans :)

Here's a little pixel art design I made of him last year

I lay on the floor, paralyzed. How long has it been? Days? Hours? Mere hellish minutes? It’s too dark now to tell. I hear my ragged breath in my ears. White hot pain shoots down my spine as I feel whatever is now attached to my back begin to wriggle and writhe.

–?? Months? earlier.

Grandma Maggie needed help after her fall. I was the closest family member to her, so I was the one to make the several hours’ drive to her home in rural north Georgia. The further north I go, the more hilly the roads become. This shouldn’t be an issue, but July’s hurricane season, and the rain, makes the roads slippery and difficult to climb. I should’ve just gotten a motel room when I had the chance, but by now, civilization was too far behind me to stop. I was closer to grandma Maggie than I was to the Best Value Motel I’d seen hours before.

My beater of a Toyota chugs along a steep road when lightning flashes above and thunder reverberates through my car. My foot slips off the gas pedal, causing my car to slide down the road. I pump the brakes, but it was no use as my car hydroplanes into the guardrail. My head lurches forward as my car comes to a sudden halt. The seatbelt keeps my body safe, but the sudden pressure against my sternum as it holds me in place knocks the wind out of me. 

My airbags didn’t deploy, and that perturbs me. Grabbing my umbrella from the backseat, I step out into the rain and inspect the damage. The rear right wheel sticks out at a funny angle. My car is wrecked. I sit back down in the driver’s seat and grab my phone from the glove box. There’s no signal. In vain, I try calling 911, but my phone can’t connect. I’m well and truly stranded. 

Resting my head against the steering wheel, I look out the passenger window. I sit back up as I strain to look farther. Faint light from a structure in the woods fills my hopeful eyes. I grab my umbrella to brave the rain once more. Hopefully, whoever owns this house has a landline, or at the very least, a place to sleep that isn’t the backseat of my car.

My boots squish through soft red mud as I trudge towards the house, walking for what feels like hours. My socks are soaked through. I look behind me towards my car. The house was visible from the road, so I should be able to see the road behind me even if I haven’t made it to the house. 

But when I turn around, all I see is a thick forest. “It must be the rain obscuring my vision,” I try to assure myself, in vain. I whip my head back towards the house, afraid it might disappear if I look away for too long. Thankfully, it’s still there, its warm yellow lights greeting me with cheer.

It doesn’t seem any closer and I worry the car crash knocked a screw loose in my head. I pray I’m not hallucinating as I continue my slog through the downpour. But finally the house appears to get closer as I walk towards it. Dark brown wood siding and white shutters make the house look quaint, or it would if not for the fact that the house is half buried in a hill. 

Was there a landslide? The weather is wet enough, and the area is hilly enough for it, but the house seems undamaged. The hill is red clay with no grass on it or nothing. I try not to look at it. Its strange unnatural lumps make me feel uneasy. 

Ignoring my discomfort, I approach the house. But when I knock on the door and the lights from inside the house vanish. I guess they weren’t expecting guests. Desperate to get out of the rain, I pound on the door. My clothes are soaked and I’m shivering with cold despite the muggy July air. There is no answer. I pound the door harder. Someone’s in there or they wouldn’t’ve turned the lights off when I first knocked. 

I almost think about shouting through the door and begging when the door creaks open. I expected the door to swing open with someone on the other side. Instead, it pushes open as if it had been stuck and my banging dislodged it. 

The inside of the house is dusty and disused. It’s clear no one has inhabited this house for years. I step forward, dripping water onto creaking floorboards. Mud squishes into the faded welcome mat beneath my feet. I turn my phone’s flashlight on.

“Hello?” I call out. Silence greets me back. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as a feeling of wrongness overcomes me. I shouldn’t be here, but as if in a trance, I walk deeper into the house. As my ears adjust from the loud rain to the silent house, I realize it’s not silent. Faint dripping noises from a roof leak above me and a strange gurgling noise ahead of me fill the space. I keep walking forward. 

In the living room I walk past moth-eaten couches and a dusty overturned bookshelf. Mildewed books strewn across the floor, filling the house with the heady scent of rotting paper. I keep walking forward. I approach the kitchen, unable to see much of it beyond a toppled fridge from my angle of approach. The gurgling sound grows louder. 

“Is anyone there?” I whisper, fearful that someone might answer. When I reach the kitchen, I look for where the gurgling sound might be coming from. Did the landslide damage the house after all? Is muddy water bubbling through the siding? I step around the fallen fridge. I aim my camera light ahead of me and see strange lumpy masses on the floor. The light is too weak for me to see more than the vague shape of things, but the lumps don’t look like kitchen furniture. 

I look closer and my heart and breathing stop. The lumps are people, but their bodies are wrong. Twisted and bumpy. Strange long pods seem to grow from their backs. Are those mushrooms? What is growing out of them? The growths seem too organized to be natural, going straight down their twisted spines. With horror I realize these… people are the sources of the gurgling sound. Their eyes are rolled back and they do not seem aware of my presence. Their chests rise and fall, showing they are still barely alive somehow.

I take a step back, but my foot catches onto the fridge behind me and I fall. Above me, I hear a menacing buzz. I look up and the fear washes out of me. Everything is okay. Everything is beautiful. 

Warmth embraces me, and pleasure tingles down my spine. When did I end up on the floor? Not that it matters. At some point my camera’s light dies, but that doesn’t matter either. All that matters is this beautiful, pleasurable warmth. I try to smile, but I can’t feel my face.

FANNIN COUNTY, Ga. — Detectives in Fannin County are hosting an event in hopes of getting closer to identifying the remains of 7 people found in an abandoned house that was destroyed in a landslide, according to a release from the district attorney and medical examiner’s office.

People are invited to the Fannin County Public Library on West Main Street to attend a missing persons event and DNA drive. It’s free to the public and being held on May 20 from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

Families of missing persons are asked to come together at the event to share any information about their loved ones, as well as to open or add to any missing persons’ reports. Officials encourage attendees to consider donating DNA samples, which can assist with identification efforts.

Excerpt from the diary of main archeologist Ture J. Arne (pictured right on item #2), March 22 1905: “We found something strange today. It wasn't far from the other graves in the area, but it was buried deeper. The extraction was difficult since it had become encased in a hard piece of stone we had to break through. […] This… artifact, it doesn't look like anything we've seen from the old Norse. A piece of loot from one of their raids, perhaps?”

“The crew is quite disturbed by the artifact, and I've heard far-fetched speculation about its origins. As much as I hate to admit it, it makes me feel uneasy too. […] There's one more thing I'm hesitating to write down. When I touched its surface I felt a nearly imperceptible vibration inside. None of the others seemed to notice. […] Tomorrow we'll load it on the ship and take it to Copenhagen.”

Arne's diary, March 25: “The mood on the ship has been odd. Some men have grown obsessed with my artifact. They try to pry it open, free what's inside. The captain sent crewmen to watch over the cargo and stop the fights. I tried to sneak in to see it at night, but they saw me.”

Arne's diary, March 27: “They will not take it away from me. I am the head of this expedition. This finding will put my name on history books. I will not let these thugs see what's inside before me. […] They say a storm is coming. That may be my moment to take it. Free it.”

Undated entry in Arne's diary: “The storm is here. I hear the men fighting outside now. It is time.”

The remains of the ship Storaker were found in April 1905, drifting in the Kattegat area. The ship was heavily damaged and no living crew was found on board. Artifacts matching the images were never located, and are presumed lost at sea.

ル祀ミ育神蟲テニ宮神父羅 (At Rabu Shrine, the insect God is raised and worshipped.)

“O Spirits, why must you test our faith so? The Child Shinchū has absorbed one more of us today, yet she will not transform into a God. The elder priest Tōji says we must keep waiting. That the Child still hungers. That the more she takes in, the more divine she will become. And yet, nineteen people has she taken into itself and her shell will not harden. She only grows larger, hungrier.”

ム慰ヲ神キナケワイニ弦管ガモド侶僧ノ宮神父羅 (The Priests at Rabu Shrine soothe the young God with music.) Priest Sōkū pictured left.

“The older faithful of the shrine still remember the elder siblings of Shinchū, and how simple it was to help them grow. A single soul would often suffice, and the union would transform them into beautiful Gods in the shape of scarabs, butterflies, and bees. Yet the Child refuses her ascension, and our numbers dwindle. Her Father does not guide us, blind as he is in his old age. I fear that life is fading beneath his shell, and his spirit readies to depart.”

神ルケ生ノメタガラ我テニ宮神父羅 (Rabu Shrine's Sacred Father, a God living amongst us.)

“Many of the faithful have left the shrine. They feel fear in their hearts that they will be chosen next, absorbed into the Child fruitlessly; they feel anger towards the young God who will not grow, all the while taking their loved ones. They say the disappearances will cause suspicion, that someone will discover the secret of our shrine and, filled with envy, will kill Shinchū’s young siblings, who are yet unready to ascend.”

リ侍チ育ニカヤ健デ池産ノ宮神父羅ハ子ノ神 (The God Children grow healthy in the Rabu Shrine purification pond.)

“There are only three of us left. Those who lost their faith have reneged their vows and left the temple. The rest of us, who remain devout in our worship, have continued uniting with the Child to no avail. Today, it was Tōji’s turn to read his fortune in the Omikuji, and he was awarded the Great Blessing of becoming one with the Child. But he would not accept it. He attempted to flee, leaving his Omikuji tied in the temple lest fate follow him. It took the three of us to bring him back and force him within Shinchū’s soft shell. We pray he may be the last. The faithful need hope to come back.”

羅父神社の羅父神はきみを御子と共に神になるやう選ばれき 共に生ける神となり御子のうちいづるほどわたりはきみを崇拝せむ (GREAT BLESSING: The Sacred Father of Rabu Shrine has chosen you to become a God with His Child. Together, you will become a Living God and live an eternal blissful life, and the people of Rabu Shrine will worship your new name.)

“I am the last one here. Day after day, the Omikuji spares me of the Great Blessing. I feel weary, and my faith is fading. Is the Shinchū really the God they promised? Or is she a demon, using our faith to trick us into feeding her? The Father has stopped moving, and her younger siblings grow weak without our care. I have found myself alone with her. Watching after her does not comfort me as it once did. I have decided to read only one more Omikuji. Let my fate be decided.”

At the time of its discovery, most of the shrine had fallen into ruin as the wooden beams rotted in the humid climate. A single structure was still standing, containing some of the temple’s statues and treasures. Today, only these documents and several photos from the 1952 survey remain.

@queenghostieart made this great Megalomorpha quiz! Give it a go and let me know what you got!

I got Stag Beetle!