The Moon

Did you see what happened last night? I’ve checked all the major news sites, channels, and popular social media sites, and I haven’t seen anyone talking about it. I even looked into some more obscure forums, but no one is talking about it. Am I the only one who saw it? Or I guess I should say the only one left who saw it? Did it even happen? It must have, the memories I have are so clear they can’t be a dream. But it happened so fast, and those people. I never learned their names or anything. Hell, I can’t even be sure exactly how many I saw out there. At any rate, they’re all gone now, and somehow, I remain. I feel a strange compulsion to document this, and so I am.

Who I am or what I am is irrelevant. This must be as concise as possible, a simple retelling. So, I will begin simply. Last night I found myself out in a field. How I got there, I do not know. One moment I was in my bed, and the next I was standing barefoot in cold, wet grass. Dense trees surrounded the grassy clearing where I stood. I could only see a few feet into the darkness of that overgrown forest. I had nothing on me but the clothes I had worn to bed. My sweatpants and old t-shirt did little to protect my naked skin from the damp cold of the night air. The night sky was a blank canvas of perfect blackness. No stars, just the yellowish moon staring down at me. I felt exposed and could feel the sight of something drilling into me. There was perfect silence, not even any wind.

Then I noticed them. There were others there, other people. I don’t know how many exactly, but there were several people scattered about the clearing. Some were dressed in normal street clothes, and others in pajamas. Some poor bastards were only in their skivvies, like they’d been plucked out of bed or while they were in the middle of getting dressed. How did I not notice them before? I swear I had been alone in that clearing. Nevertheless, they were here now, and they were all doing the same thing. They stared at the sky. They didn’t speak or move at all. Even the ones who were only in their underwear didn’t seem to mind the cold. I even inspected one of them up close they didn’t even have goosebumps on their skin. Their eyes were empty, vacant. Staring blankly up at the moon in the starless night sky. The fat yellow moon reflected in their eyes.

Then the air seemed to grow heavy and thick. Breathing became a bit difficult. Moisture seemed to bead onto my bare skin out of thin air. Drops of water dripped down my arms, watering the grass beneath my feet. Something stirred in the forest beyond the trees. I looked into the thick blackness beyond the trees. The dark seemed to morph and move as if it were alive. There was something alive out there watching us. I strained my ears, thinking I would hear the snap of a twig or a rustle of brush. But there was nothing. Then there was a sound, one single sound. Like the drawing of breath. One ragged, inhuman breath. I scanned the woods, but there was nothing. But I knew. There was something out there. One word keeps entering my mind: witness. They are witnesses.

Then, as if my head was being moved by long, spidery fingers. Cold, invisible digits that gripped my head and moved it. Moved it up to stare at the massive yellow moon above us. A moon that seemed larger than usual, closer than usual. A moon that radiated malice and alien intelligence. A moon that seemed foreign to our solar system. Then it happened…it opened. A massive, pocked eyelid flipped up and open. An eye, unbelievably huge and full of terrible light and sentience. It saw me. It saw all of us. It saw us, and that fact still sends shivers down my spine. I couldn’t wrench my eyes away from it as I watched its massive pupil dilate as it focused on us. Massive red veins and blue capillaries pulsed and wriggled as it moved. Then the eye focused on each of us, one by one, we were scrutinized.

Then I was scrutinized. Swimming in a whitish red sea, that massive black pupil stared at me coldly. I wanted to look away. I could feel myself becoming lost in the endless black sea of that impossibly old black dot. Then I felt it, understanding, and my head was free. I wrenched it away and fell to the wet ground. The ground squelched as my hands and knees hit it, and I lost the contents of my stomach. I sat there shivering in terror as bile and spittle dribbled from the corners of my mouth. What was this? Was this a dream? It had to be. And yet the cold, the acrid taste of vomit, and my pounding headache seemed to ground this all in reality. Terrible, cold, hard reality.

Then I felt something, warm and liquid, pool near my hand. A dark, smelly liquid was flowing down around me. Terror and disgust gripped me as I moved my head up slightly to find its source. My eyes fell on the sight of a bare foot standing in the grass. The foot, pale and white, moved up and into a thin hairy leg. A leg that was dripping. A leg that seemed to quiver and boil. Then a torrent of disgusting, thickish slop fell with a sickening plop. My face was splattered, and I let out a disgusted yelp as I scrambled away. Then I felt it again, those cold fingers on my face, and my head was lifted once again against my will.

I was made to look at the others, they were all staring up at the moon. But they were trembling violently now, their mouths agape in silent screams. They were melting, like candle wax, like ice cream on a hot day. Their bodies seemed to boil, viscous fluids leaked from every pore in a horrifying torrent. I stared at them in terror, watching helplessly as they came undone before my eyes. Putrid puddles gathered at their feet, and for what seemed like an eternity, I watched them suffer. Then time seemed to freeze, they stopped trembling, and the pouring liquid hung suspended in the air. For a second, nothing happened, then the liquid began to flow again. Only this time it flowed in reverse. Instead of falling to the ground, it flowed upwards towards the sky, towards the moon.

Whatever was left of them was being sucked up like soup. Their skin came away revealing red meat beneath. Then it seemed that each muscle was stripped away from the bone. Their entrails were taken through their mouths, noses, and eye sockets. All that was left were their bare white skeletons, gleaming in the pale-yellow light of that hideous eye. Even as bare skeletons, they stared up at that unfeeling, uncaring orb. Then, one by one, the bones were taken up and away. Sucked into the black void of that yawning pupil along with everything else. Then I was alone in the clearing, the great eye staring down at me. The invisible fingers were gone again, but I couldn’t take my gaze away from that thing in the sky.

It watched me for a while. And I could feel it thinking, thinking about me, what to do with me. After a time, it seemed to reach a decision, and that great eyelid slowly shut. Closing over the infinite penetration of that old eye. And once again, it was a moon and I was alone. For a moment, I sat there dumbfounded, unsure of what to do. Then I heard a strange, nasally snuffling. I turned my head toward the sound and saw that I wasn’t alone in the clearing. There was a small hairy mass scrabbling along the ground. It was some kind of creature, and it seemed to be sniffing around. Then it found something that it quickly gobbled down, and it started sniffing around again. What had it eaten? Then I realized, the clothes, the clothing each person had worn, had been left behind. I looked around, and in the pale moonlight, I could see crumbled piles of clothes.

Sweats, t-shirts, bras, boxers, and more were scattered around the clearing. Near me, a grey t-shirt lay on the grass. For some reason, I reached out and grabbed it. It was wet and slimy with a slight stickiness. And even though it was far from my nose, I could smell its rank odor. Like a mixture of rot, body odor, and coppery blood. Nearby, the furry creature continued its quest. It would sniff out an article of clothing then greedily suck it down. It ate a tank top, some socks, and then a hoodie. Realization hit me; each article of clothing had been soaked in soupy gore. Disgusted, I threw the smelly shirt away and wiped my hands desperately on the wet grass. But the wet grass was oily, and when I looked at my hands, I saw they were slick with reddish putrescence. I jumped up and wiped my hands on my shirt.

Movement around my feet caught my eye. A flopping, fleshy abomination chittered and gurgled as it moved around in the bloody grass. In the light, I could make out its pale flesh, disgusting goatlike eyes, and flabby tentacles. A disgusting tongue lolled out of its slit-like mouth and lazily licked up the reddish stains on the grass. Scavengers. They were all disgusting scavengers. I looked around and could see others in the clearing now. Terrible parodies of life stumbled about looking for leftovers. Alien forms fought over scraps. Menageries of fur, cilia, and scales. Teeth, tongues and suckers. Stronger forms hunted the scavengers, devouring them messily. The once quiet night was now a cacophony of squeals, cries, and whoops. I stood frozen in terror. An unwilling witness to an alien ecosystem, an unnatural food chain.

Then there was something behind me, and the next thing I knew, I was back in my bed. For a second, I was confused. I wondered if it had been a dream. Yes, just a dream. Ignore the oily gore staining my hands. Ignore my soaked shirt, my red feet. Ignore the marks on my cheeks and neck. The marks of long, spindly fingers. Ignore the clear memories, the ones I can never forget. The ones no amount of drink or drug or pleasurable company can dispel. Ignore my fear of vast night skies and celestial bodies. Ignore the grating voice that has no voice compelling me to document, to witness. And so, I make this my witness, and still I dream. Dream of a grassy clearing, an alien sky, and a sickly moon.