As I lay sleeping in my bed, I write this to you:  The woman was in her backyard, the water hose is frozen, she picked it up to see what she could do about it. The nozzle contained a ball of ice. She lit a match, to attempt to melt it. The end of the hose caught on fire, surprised, she laid it on a piece of carpet on the ground in the backyard. The carpet began to smoke furiously, as she watched and wondered how is this possible.

A voice called out to her "Bette, I have a date for you". Bette had been alone for a long time now, the voice calling her sounded familiar; almost like it was her sister who had been dead for many years. "He is coming to see you right now", the voice then said. A mysterious figure suddenly appeared and walks straight to her, the face is not visible and it's wearing a dark hooded rob.  All the while, the carpet continues to burn.  She wonders what all this means as the figure continues to approach her.  He is on top of her quickly, only a foot away, even at that close distance she cannot make out a face.  Something strange is happening to her.  The carpet continues to burn. There is darkness all around her now. NO! NO! NO! she screams !! She kicks at the robbed figure, and screams again and again and again. Then she finally knows:  it is DEATH !!

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When I sat down with Father Jonathan, I just wanted to pray. As I looked into his eyes, they seemed to turn red. His mouth turned into a grin. He began to talk to me in a language I couldn't understand. I jumped from my chair and tried to run. My legs were like water, unsteady and weak. I fell to the floor; my head was now spinning. The room turned dark. Suddenly I woke up. Was this all just a dream? No, Father Jonathan was still there standing over me! His face was changing now and his eyes now red as blood!!  He spoke to me: "Son," he said, "I have seen the IBLIS; it is in your soul and we can't save you. You must free yourself! I will pray for you, but the IBLIS has damned you for all time." As I tried to make sense of what he was saying I began to feel strange sensations in my body. I noticed my shirt had been torn, my chest was bleeding and my pants were wet and drawn. As I staggered away into the dawn all I could hear was a voice. It boomed like the beat of a bass drum. " My son, don't look so forlorn". Then the ROOM FILLED WITH LAUGHTER!

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When I sat down with Father Jonathan, I just wanted to pray. As I looked into his eyes, they seemed to turn red. His mouth turned into a grin. He began to talk to me in a language I couldn’t understand. I jumped from my chair and tried to run. My legs were like water, unsteady and weak. I fell to the floor; my head was now spinning. The room turned dark. Suddenly I woke up. Was this all just a dream? No, Father Jonathan was still there standing over me! His face was changing now and his eyes now red as blood!! He spoke to me. “Son,” he said, “I have seen the IBLIS; it is in your soul and we can’t save you. You must free yourself! I will pray for you, but the IBLIS has damned you for all time.” As I tried to make sense of what he was saying I began to feel strange sensations in my body. I noticed my shirt had been torn, my chest was bleeding and my pants were wet and drawn. As I staggered away into the dawn all I could hear was a voice. It boomed like the beat of a bass drum. ” My son, don’t look so forlorn”. Then the ROOM FILLED WITH LAUGHTER! How you are fallen from heaven, O Day Star, son of Dawn! How you are cut down to the ground, you who laid the nations low! You said in your heart, ‘I will ascend to heaven; I will raise my throne above the stars of God; I will sit on the mount of assembly on the heights of Zaphon; I will ascend to the tops of the clouds, I will make myself like the Most High’" (Isaiah 14:12-14, NIV).

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The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,       And the trees have a silver glare; Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,       And the harpies of upper air,       That flutter and laugh and stare. For the village dead to the moon outspread       Never shone in the sunset’s gleam, But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep       Where the rivers of madness stream       Down the gulfs to a pit of dream. A chill wind weaves thro’ the rows of sheaves       In the meadows that shimmer pale, And comes to twine where the headstones shine       And the ghouls of the churchyard wail       For harvests that fly and fail. Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change       That tore from the past its own Can quicken this hour, when a spectral pow’r       Spreads sleep o’er the cosmic throne       And looses the vast unknown. So here again stretch the vale and plain       That moons long-forgotten saw, And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,       Sprung out of the tomb’s black maw       To shake all the world with awe. And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,       The ugliness and the pest Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,       Shall some day be with the rest,       And brood with the shades unblest. Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,       And the leprous spires ascend; For new and old alike in the fold       Of horror and death are pe The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,       And the trees have a silver glare; Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,       And the harpies of upper air,       That flutter and laugh and stare. For the village dead to the moon outspread       Never shone in the sunset’s gleam, But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep       Where the rivers of madness stream       Down the gulfs to a pit of dream. A chill wind weaves thro’ the rows of sheaves       In the meadows that shimmer pale, And comes to twine where the headstones shine       And the ghouls of the churchyard wail       For harvests that fly and fail. Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change       That tore from the past its own Can quicken this hour, when a spectral pow’r       Spreads sleep o’er the cosmic throne       And looses the vast unknown. So here again stretch the vale and plain       That moons long-forgotten saw, And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,       Sprung out of the tomb’s black maw       To shake all the world with awe. And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,       The ugliness and the pest Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,       Shall some day be with the rest,       And brood with the shades unblest. Then wild in the dark let the lemurs bark,       And the leprous spires ascend; For new and old alike in the fold        For the hounds of Time to rend.

H.P. LOVECRAFT

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