The Triangle

As she moved down the triangle shaped hallway, she found herself unable to stop and turn back the way she had come, even though she know she should.

Something about the pulsating light at the end of the dark tunnel reminded her of the reoccurring dream she had had all of her life.

The red, glowing triangle hanging in the dark void in front of her, beckoning for her to pass through it; what awaited her on the other side filled her with speculation, and dread.

In her dreams she had never reached the hovering shape of the illuminated triangle, only coming close enough to reach out and almost touch the space of its hollow opening before awakening from her sleep, still filled with the unease of the unknown the dream shape held within it.

She had always thought the dream was a representation of the fear of the future that always seems just out of sight and the worry of what might be there; yet, it now seems it may have been a premonition of this very moment.

The plan had been to meet her friends to celebrate her birthday with a night of drinks and dancing, even though she would have much rather an quiet night in with a nice bottle of wine; she had relented to their insistence of going out to have a 'wild night'.

So, she had arrived at the address they were to meet at to find several old, abandoned warehouses, standing eerily against the foggy night sky, grouped together in the amber lights of the streetlamps of the industrial end of town.

As she had moved back to the car she had come in to ask if this was indeed the right address, the driver had already started to turn around and drive away into the night; leaving her there all alone in front of the foreboding brick buildings that lined the street.

A blue neon arrow on the front of the building to her left was the only indication that she might possibly be in the right place. It directed her to the dark alleyway between the buildings where another blue arrow shinned its lighted point toward a door-less entrance on the side of the rough brick warehouse.

Having limited options, she made her way down the alleyway and peered into the dark doorway with its buzzing arrow pointing her way in. Sighing to herself, she went in, hoping her friends were already there and that this was all worth it.

Once inside, she tried to adjust her eyes to the pitch dark she had ventured into, but it had been too complete with seemingly no other sources of light to draw any sight from.

And then, in the distance ahead of her, the red glow of the triangle had appeared, casting a soft light, allowing her to see faintly that she was in a long tunnel of a hallway that was also in the shape of a perfect triangle.

Looking back behind her, she found that the entrance was gone and only absolute darkness filled in the space where she had come.

Furrowing her brow with impatience, she turned back to face the pulsating triangle that she now recognized as the shape that had haunted her dreams, and started to make her way slowly towards its red glow.

Now, she was nearing the massive triangle of light and could see how it took up most of the space in front of her, which seemed to have expanded to an immeasurable abyss that the triangle was a gateway to.

Slowly reaching out her hand, she moved ever closer, inching her way along the smooth onyx coloured floor, until the enormous angled lines of the triangles two sides loomed high above her and the points of her high-heels almost touched the base line that ran along the ground like a red slash in the flooring.

Her trembling hand outstretched, she closed her eyes and held her breath as she readied herself to move through the structure and finally find out what lay on the other side of the unknown.

As she took a step forward, she felt her hand move through a heavy velvet curtain and she could feel welcoming warmth in the air; a contrast to the damp chill of the dark she had just walked through.

Moving fully through the black curtain that hung from the triangle door's frame and opening her eyes she found herself in a dimly light room full of people that stood in line in front of counter where two pretty girls where taking coats in exchange for numbered tickets.

It was the coat check.

From behind the other set of steel doors to her left, also in the shape of a triangle, she could now hear the throbbing beat of dance music being played inside the factory-converted club.

"Wendy!" squealed a chorus of voices excitedly calling her name from across the room and she looked over to the washrooms on the right and saw her friends coming out as a waving, giggling pack of enthusiasm.

Wendy exhaled a sigh of relief and disappointment. This was going to be a long, annoying birthday.

Destroyer

What had he done?

Along the shore of the coastline, the sheer cliffs rose up from the swirling black waters of the sea as the dark clouds gathered overhead.

Flashes of lightning rumbled with thunder inside the ominous clouds as the storm within grew, threatening to unleash itself upon the green farm lands that lay a top the high-reaching cliffs.

Haemal stood on the rocky shore that led out from the hidden cave entrance to meet the crashing waves of the angry waters that swelled under the darkening skies.

He had only meant to exact revenge on the farm folk that had banished him from the little village above; the village he had lived in all his life; his home.

All for what? Believing he had brought the drought that had caused the crops to wither and die out before they could be harvested?

What reason would he have had to bring about a famine that affected him as well as them?

Just because they thought he had delved too far into the 'black arts'. As if they knew the difference between natural healing and true Black Magic.

Simpletons.

Had he not cured many an ailment with his skills in apothecary? In fact, he had saved no small number of the village's children, who would have surely died without his knowledge of simple healing plants and herbs.

Yet, to the idiot villagers, his medicinal potions were no different than the blackest of magics.

So when they needed to place blame for a run of bad weather, they turned their anger and frustration to him and threatened to do him harm if he did not leave the meagre little hamlet.

Pelting him with the rotten and spoiled crops from their failed harvest, they had run him out of town and forced him to seek shelter in the cold, damp caves of the cliffs below.

There, he had given into his anger and ventured into studying the very subject he had vowed never to practice: Black Magic.

Within the darkness of the caves, he had pored over the volumes of primeval texts he had taken with him and found an incantation that promised to bring punishment to one's enemies.

Little did he know that behind all Dark Magic, laying in wait behind the words written upon the ancient pages, a sinister force awaited a fool to perform the ritual transcribe and release its evil upon the world.

He had been a fool indeed, he thought as he stood in terrified awe of the darkening scene in front of him.

From the depths of the churning waters he could see a humongous shape emerging, its hideous tendrils branching out and reaching up toward the surface; the intangible size of the thing filled Haemal with dread that boarded on madness.

Lightning cracked above and the bright flash lifted his eyes from the dark waters of the sea to the clouds converging above.

And the sight weakened his legs to cause him to drop to his knees and weep.

For the sea had only been the murky reflection of the creature emerging from the darkness of the cloud-filled sky.

What had he done?

In his foolish pursuit for revenge, he had become a puppet of the evil he had been persecuted for.

Screaming in aguish as the tentacles reached down from the clouds that veiled the beast's true form; his last thoughts were the terrible realization that he had brought about the end of all things.