# "Dwellers in the Dark"



## FleshEater (Sep 25, 2012)

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*“The Dwellers in the Dark”*
By Matthew A. Campbell​
It is the early morn of September 13[SUP]th[/SUP] 192-: It is imperative that I catalogue the daemonic horrors which have afflicted me endlessly, before the twilight shrouds the earth, and the “_dwellers”_ roam once more. I know not of their origin, though I believe, that their world exists within our own; that they travel to and fro, through corridors or passageways contained within the darkness, as if the two merge seamlessly within the abysmal void. What is known, however, is that they absolutely detest light; even the subtle glow of a candle, is enough to deter their progress into our world, to hold them at bay in the shadows. It is because of them that I now dread the fall of night, and no longer wish to rest during the hours in which darkness prevails. 

The _“dwellers”_, as I’ve come to call them, made their presence known to me on the first night of my stay in this damnable cabin. The moon was full, and bathed the entirety of my abode in its cold, sullen illumination. The forest clamored wildly that evening, as the nocturnal earth creatures roamed restlessly, invoking a brooding spirit within the darkness. 

Amidst the night I was abruptly stirred from a deep slumber by the sound of voices, or rather, odd noises, echoing throughout the room. What I heard differed greatly from that of anything natural, and I had soon realized the outside wilderness had fallen hauntingly silent. I strained my eyes as I peered into the night. I could see them, vaguely, writhing amongst each other, surrounding the edges of the moonlight; which shone upon my place of rest like a silhouetted coffin. They were everywhere the light ceased to reach, creating an innumerable, scurrying mass. 

Their dwarfish figures were wrapped in dark, hooded cloaks, which engulfed their faces in a sea of black. I could see their human like hands endowed with grotesque claws as they crawled atop one another, trying desperately to reach me. I started away from them as I fell against the headboard of the bed; my hands fell into the darkness as I stared into the horrifying landscape. In an instant, a sharp pain shot through my nerves. I pulled my hands back, clasping each tightly with the other as a thick crimson hue poured like water from between my fingers. I could hear them feverishly ravaging the blood soaked sheets, desperately feasting upon the warm fluid. These blasphemous things surrounded me, suffocating in their closeness as I lay there, bleeding and paralyzed by fear. The creatures hissed and whispered at me, their pungent, fetid breath warmed my face in a most detestable way. They taunted the light, tempting its power as they batted at it violently. 

The candle and matchstick lain just out of the moonlight, in the darkness, with _Them_. I knew that an attempt to acquire my only source of light could, quite possibly mean sacrificing my hand, or much more, my life. I was trapped. Not only by the sea of hideous night creatures, but also by the abandonment that I faced within this mountainous region. My screams of help and mercy would merely fade into the hollow, empty forest; hopelessness pervaded my spirit as I realized the tormenting fate of my solitude. 

That night I remained still, always within the moonlight, waiting for the rise of the sun. Their ferocity never waned; they festered within the darkness like a pack of starving, savage animals.

As day broke and light spilled over the horizon, the creatures relinquished into the descending shadows. Their awful, unearthly cries echoed throughout the room, as the sun allowed them no longer to exist within our world. 

My mind whirled in hysteria; thoughts of phantasmagorical hallucinations flooded my mind, beckoning my sanity into madness. However, I soon realized the reality of my terrifying night. My garments were drenched in blood, which had since become dried and crusty, much like the ravished sheets scattered upon the bed. All of the room was mangled with claw marks, their hair and filth littered and strewn about. My hand throbbed in pain; the gnarled flesh had slightly scabbed over, ceasing the loss of blood. Upon standing, all at once the blood flushed from my head. I lost consciousness and slipped away into darkness yet again, unable to deal with the shock my realization had created. 

When I awoke, it was nearing dusk. The dismal reality I so fluently fainted from still remained. As I stumbled to my feet, I couldn’t help but notice, once more, the disarray my malevolent night visitors had created. What stole my attention more so, and what rushed a wave of anxiousness through my very being, was the fleeting light of the day. Whether the previous night was in fact real, or my mind was slowly descending into madness; I knew the danger which presented itself after the setting of the sun. 

Like a raving lunatic, I quickly began lighting candle after candle, scattering them about the cabin room. When I opened the door of my chamber, I was greeted with the same destructive, chaotic scenery. The sign of their presence littered every square foot of the cabin. Knowing that these creatures not only desecrated my immediate living quarters, but also the rest of my residence, solidified my mind to the absoluteness of their existence. 

That night, I heard their demonic whispering, and relentless clawing only faintly. The luminous glow of the candles lit the entirety of the walls vibrantly. The only shadows that existed were within the closet spaces, which were located within each room of the cabin. 

That is where I heard them…inside the dark closets. Hissing and whispering devilish murmurings; their stench permeated from under the doors as the shadows of their menacing claws danced about the floor. Though their sheer presence disturbed and haunted me, it was far more tolerable than the night before. The twilight carried on, the creatures held at bay, and I sat, staring into nothingness; contemplating my ill fate. I fear my supply of candles may not suit my needs much longer.

The following morning I collapsed, completely exhausted. As I slept during the day, I found my mind tormented and afflicted with abominable, lucid dreams. I dreamt of a cyclopean world: it was shrouded in darkness, legions of the dwarfed monstrosities amassed in front of a prodigious altar. The altar was decorated with relics, and designs reminiscent of ancient Kandarian writings. Upon that great, daemonic altar was a winged, serpent like creature of indescribable features, more hideous than humanly imaginable. Their wretched cries tainted the air with an unholy séance, which fell upon the thing they worshipped, like a god. 

These hellish visions continued to frolic about my subconscious as I slept, as if I were staring through their eyes. Though their world was vividly clear, never once was I shown the passageway into ours. I imagine I would need to sleep, to dream, as the sun descended from the sky, as the corridors which granted them the access into our realm became apparent, in the darkness; maybe then and only then would the gateway be shown.

I awoke at dusk. Thoughts of my macabre visions plagued my mind. The idea of possibly discovering the means, in which these blasphemous beasts accessed our world, inflicted tremendous terror within me. I do not wish to confront these morbid night creatures any longer. I feel myself drifting into a sea of overwhelming insanity, creating absolute despair within my soul. Though it has only been 3 days since my arrival, it has felt like an eternity, awaiting certain death at the hands of such merciless creatures.

The twilight fell upon the earth once again as the moon beset the sky. Just as the night prior, the creatures once again, returned within the closets. They continued their relentless barrage of hissing and whispering, clawing and scratching as the door held them within. The candles burned brightly through the night. I sat once again; listening to the din of their horridness, as my mind toiled endlessly, waiting for the saving grace of the sun. 

The morn has come once again for me. It’s the only thing I anticipate now. I am trapped within this phantasm, this hellish realm, which exists within the confines of this mountainous cabin. I regret ever coming here; though I find my request of desolate solitude even more regrettable. The coachmen had the strict orders of not returning until the first snow fall of the year; for the months that followed would be inhabitable in these mountains, and I was to return to civility amongst my peers. However, it is merely September, and that unwelcoming coldness shall not lie itself upon this earth for another month.

The realization of the doom encroaching upon my very life is now at hand. I feel there is no hope for me, and there is no time for me to try and stop these creatures, to combat their intentions through wild fantasies or demonic dreams. My supply of candles has dwindled more rapidly than expected, for there are only a few remaining. 

I wish only for this writing to be my dismal eulogy, to reside as an account of the wretched terrors, which beseech this nightmarish cabin. There are no means in which I may be able to escape this damnable place. 

An eclipse is to pervade the moon this eve, and under the cover of sheer darkness, I believe, these creatures may roam much further than the confines of this cabin. I hope that by succumbing to my inevitable death, I do not commit the legions of _“dwellers” _to persist into our world. I possess precisely enough candles to illuminate the escapes of this cabin; the windows, the doors. I shall leave these lit, to burn amongst the darkness of the ecliptic twilight, and to ward off the creatures from exiting this wretched gateway to hell. 

Tonight, when the remaining candles are placed upon their final resting spot, I shall step into the great abyss of the darkness, succumb to their willingness, to their intentions, and walk amongst men no more.


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## Arcopitcairn (Sep 25, 2012)

Pretty cool! Good use of language here, I think. I'd like to see the described events played out as a slow burning story perhaps.


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## FleshEater (Sep 25, 2012)

I'm thinking that's the way I'm leaning, to give it more time and to really soak in the insanity. I have been combatting the idea of extending this story since I wrote it so it must NEED to be re-written ha-ha!

Choosing whether to write it in third person, or rather in diary format is the real predicament.


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## Protocol (Sep 25, 2012)

Impressive. Great writing. I love how detailed you were. I would love to see more of this. Such an interesting choice. Another reason to be afraid of the dark.


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## Nevermore (Sep 25, 2012)

The style is and writing is ridiculously well executed.  It almost comes off as classic gothic horror.  It almost reminds me of don't be Afraid of the Dark.  But, as I said before, the writing style is very powerful and beautiful, without stumbling into the murky bog of overly flowery Shakespeare-expy prose.


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## Rellek (Sep 25, 2012)

Flesh, if you can drive a story along at a good pace and balance your excellent descriptive skills along with it, I think you could be a contender in the horror-fantasy market. As it stands right now I believe the pacing is a little slow, but still impressive. Expand this with more action and decent dialog and you'd have something I'd happily buy.


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## FleshEater (Sep 25, 2012)

Wow guys thanks for the compliments!


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## FleshEater (Sep 25, 2012)

Rellek said:


> Flesh, if you can drive a story along at a good pace and balance your excellent descriptive skills along with it, I think you could be a contender in the horror-fantasy market. As it stands right now I believe the pacing is a little slow, but still impressive. Expand this with more action and decent dialog and you'd have something I'd happily buy.




You have been the first one to comment on slow pacing. I'll keep that in mind when/if the re-write happens. I know what you mean about action too, like I need more close encounters...right?


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## Alukard (Sep 25, 2012)

I would light some big A$$ fires outside if I were this guy...
The imagery was excelent in this passage, but one part confused me,
*In an instant, a sharp pain shot through my nerves. I pulled my hands back, clasping each tightly with the other as a thick crimson hue poured like water from between my fingers. I could hear them feverishly ravaging the blood soaked sheets, desperately feasting upon the warm fluid. These blasphemous things surrounded me, suffocating in their closeness as I lay there, bleeding and paralyzed by fear. The creatures hissed and whispered at me, their pungent, fetid breath warmed my face in a most detestable way. They taunted the light, tempting its power as they batted at it violently. *
In this quote I cant really tell if he was attacked or he hit his hand against something.
The descriptions of the dwellers was pretty intimidating, so good work it is during the day at the moment so I might have been more scared if I read it at night. Anyways I could see this as a cool fantasy.


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## FleshEater (Sep 25, 2012)

Just before that I had mentioned that the main character's hand fell into the darkness, thus giving the creatures access to attack him. 

I definitely want to rewrite this. I had always imagined another excellent ending would be the MC frantically writing as one lonely candle dwindled and the mass of the creatures breath caressed his neck as the darkness enclosed around him. However that would have to end like so "..." haha!


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## Cran (Sep 27, 2012)

Decide quickly, because it's been nominated for Motley Press as is.


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## FleshEater (Sep 27, 2012)

Really? That's awesome haha! If it's placed in Motley does that mean I can't change it?


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## Cran (Sep 27, 2012)

No. All authors and artists retain the copyright to their works. If the original version is published in Motley Press, you still retain all rights to alter or revise it as you see fit. Revised versions of previously published works turn up often enough, especially in fiction. 

What I meant is if you want the revised version to be the one published in the coming issue, you have a very limited window of opportunity to make those revisions. Motley Press Issue Nine is due out sometime in October. Of course, there's no reason it couldn't be published in Issue Ten (November) instead, and that gives you more time.

ETA: _of course, if the revisions screw up the story, your chances fall. _


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## FleshEater (Sep 27, 2012)

Yeah I can't work under that kind of pressure haha! I'll revise it when the inspiration is overwhelming. 

Thanks Cran!


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## Bowl (Oct 10, 2012)

I loved it, I am a hardcore H.P. Lovecraft fan. I realized after seeing the title and reading the first sentence, that you pull much of you inspiration from him and that you are a fan as well. I must say, it was beautiful read and is well deserving of the nominated for Motley Press. I am looking forward to your next story, and I believe that your work is a great add on to Gothic horror.


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## FleshEater (Oct 11, 2012)

Thank you! This is still probably my favorite story I've wrote thus far. It has its drawbacks but it is Horror...I think you can get away with a certain degree of nonsense haha!


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## BenTurnbull (Oct 13, 2012)

I spent a good hour poring over this story and giving you a solid  critique, but when I tried to post it I apparently had been timed out  and lost everything. Since I don't have another hour to rewrite it, I'll  give you a condensed version and let you work from there. 

You use semi-colons too often and in inappropriate places  where either a comma or a new sentence would be preferable. I too am a  fan of the semi-colon but not if it is misused. I had given examples of  every time you had erred but I trust that if you were to spend some time  editing you could find some of them on your own. 
Lain should be lay.
There are several areas of text that read awkwardly, it hurts your pace.
If the narrator lost so much blood that his sheets and clothes were _drenched_, I have serious doubts as to his ability to live for several days after the fact.
In  the end, the narrator seems certain that the cabin is the only entrance  to our world, and that by putting lights near the exits he can prevent the dwellers escape. What prevented their departure on the previous nights, and  what will prevent it on any night after he has given up? Why does he  not simply light a fire near each entrance and sleep outside? 
I think you might get a better and more tense ending if you go with your idea of him scribbling the note as the candles die. 
I  hope you take this criticism as constructive. I, like the other posters  in this thread, enjoyed the story, but I feel that it needs revision in  some areas and I know that there are some grammatical errors that need  fixing. We come to this forum for criticism so that we may improve; I  offer you mine in the hope that you will return the favor at a later  time.

Ben


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## FleshEater (Oct 13, 2012)

Yes this story has many shortcomings (I thought more peoplemwould consider the irrationality as madness) and semi colon abuse. I was (I believe) the third story I've really wrote. I need to go back and spice it up and fix it...just haven't had time.


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## Cran (Oct 14, 2012)

Don't panic too much about it; you'll see that some things were addressed in the edit for publication. 
Not the blood drenching, though; it fits the madness and the Season (Halloween).


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## Olly Buckle (Oct 14, 2012)

> I spent a good hour poring over this story and giving you a solid critique, but when I tried to post it I apparently had been timed out and lost everything.


 I tend to copy and paste into word if I am doing more than a quick comment, the only problem is losing aspects of the formatting when I bring it back, I tend to use paragraphs to differentiate because of that.


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## FleshEater (Oct 14, 2012)

Posting "advanced" is the only way on this forum.


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## Cran (Oct 14, 2012)

*[Preview] is your friend. *


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## Wartec (Oct 24, 2012)

Nice work. Excellent set up. I do think you can improve. What I mean is make sentences shorter.
Then expand on key points only. Otherwise this is a good job.


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