Cult of the Black Jaguar by JG Faherty Page A

odor like nothing I’d ever smelled before emanated from the oozing sores.
    I backed away from the abominable stench just in time to avoid capture by grasping tentacles masquerading as branches. The entire alien growth leaned towards me, appendages extended and waving in my direction. I took myself further away, fearful the creature might uproot itself and follow.
    After my encounter with the botanical nightmare, I chose my path, such as it was, with more care.
    I’d gone perhaps another hundred yards, certainly no more than that, when a violent bolt of red lightning ruptured the ebon sky.
    I froze as the afterimage left blinding jagged lines of color across my vision. The empty plain offered no protection, and I grew nervous about being exposed. I had no desire to serve as a human lightning rod. More angry flashes fractured the all-encompassing blackness. I held my breath, anticipating the tumultuous thunder I felt sure would come with such a spectacle.
    Instead, a sepulchral voice spoke to me.
    â€œOpen your mind to me, open yourself to me. I am the gateway; through me they speak. I am your legacy, your history and your future. You and I will be as one. The past and present shall reunite. I will fill you, and you shall rise above those of lesser status.
    â€œTogether we shall speak the unspoken and call those whose names are not known.
    â€œThe spirits of the great places beyond space prepare themselves for battle once again, waiting only for you to guide them forth. Before you stands the gate to the othersphere. Only speak the words and those of the realms will enter three wide and seven strong.
    â€œThose who hold the stars in their power and live in the spaces in between shall awaken!
    â€œAzathoth! Tulzsha! Cthulhu! Yog Sothoth! Shub-Niggurath!
    â€œNine hundred ninety-nine times I shall call their names! Listen to my words. For I am—Nyarlathotep!”
    I burst from the covers, nearly falling from my bed in the process.
    For a moment I just sat there, chest heaving, heart jack-hammering, my back as straight and stiff as an iron rod. My hands clenched the sheets so hard my fingers ached. The echo of the strange word I’d shouted still reverberated in my brain, each repetition evoking dread.
    Gradually, I eased from my rigid state as I grew fully aware that I was back in the familiar surroundings of my room, rather than the dreadful landscape of my dreams. Just as I was about to lay back on my pillow, thunder crashed outside my window, the unexpected aural explosion causing me to release a tiny squirt of piss into my underwear. It took me a moment to realize it was only an ordinary thunderstorm, that the dire crimson bolts and virulent landscapes I’d so recently wandered through hadn’t followed me back to the real world.
    Lightning, wonderfully ordinary and white, flashed across the sky. Before the first jagged bolt faded away, three more bursts followed in rapid succession, accompanied by cannon shots of thunder that shook the walls of the house. The lightning erased the night’s darkness like celestial flash pots, as if God himself was taking the stage for the universe’s greatest rock concert.
    Two more hellish claps of thunder accompanied more lightning, and I revised my initial evaluation of the storm’s normalcy.
    My bedroom door banged open, delivering my third fright in as many minutes.
    â€œHoly crap!” my brother shouted, his eyes wide and his face corpse-white in the glare of more strobing lightning. I feared that if it grew any brighter outside, I’d actually be able to see right through him. “Sean, you gotta come see this. It’s like the end of the world out there!”
    Normally I’d have cursed Owen for barging into my room without knocking, but the truth was, I felt a large measure of relief at seeing another human, even if it was my obnoxious little brother. So, rather than yell at him like I normally would have, I told him