That with Yellow Eyes

That with yellow eyes
The only entry in a journal found in the apartment of George Smitherite, who has been missing since February 10, 2018.

The eyes...I see them...shining through the forthcoming oblivion…

I do not recall exactly when or where I saw it...him.

I know it was very far from the orange litten night streets of my home. I cannot think how long ago. I cannot describe precisely what happened, and so I will tell only what I know, and leave the rest to the reader’s imagination.

I was walking through a forest. It was a long walk. My torch made the dark green undergrowth gleam with some rain from earlier. there was no trail. The trees towering above my head were titans, perhaps only one fifth of their sweeping branches were illuminated as I focused my light upwards. When I found a chunk of rock jutting above the organic skyline and climbed to its summit, I could see no light but the celestial objects and a few glittering pools. Only the still trees and cliffs and waters met my sight. I can see now why I would have wanted to find such a place. Far away from languages save for the wind tongue, and even that was only silently in use. After a time I found my way down to a lake bank. By now I had switched off the torch. The moon refracted off the still water to shine on the neighbouring trees a faery blueish white glow. I could not see far in the trees, and I was not afraid. On the other side of the lake was a rock face. I circled and climbed it, up and over until nothing impeded my view of the sky. I slept overlooking the rolling black forests and cliffs and glowing lakes and beneath the blue stars. This is the part I remember dreamily. I would go back, If it were not for fear of that which I am about to tell.

It was some time later. Also below a dark sky. I was walking through a valley, where even the moon did not shine that night. As I walked, I soon noticed two yellow reflections from the torch off some twenty yards away. That was the first time I felt fear on my trip. They were so conveniently close together as to hint that they may, by some stretch of the imagination, be eyes. I spent a moment staring at these points of light, and, as there was no trail to tell me where to go, decided to investigate. I approached cautiously, never averting my torchlight. When I was ten feet away I froze. For I had realized... I shone my torch away briefly. My pulse hammered. I turned off my light, and stared into the bioluminescent eyes of a creature, standing quite upright, its body resembling clay moulded in a humanoid manner, ears like trumpets, an ovoid, bald head, eyes of a bright yellow hue, no pupils, and a grin, ripped across its face. I cannot think how long I stared in horror at this utterly brain wrenching spectacle. I do not recall screaming, but probably did. It just stood there. Once I had gotten over the initial shock I remained still, suspicious of the fact that it did not react. Then, with a sudden burst of fright, I turned and bolted. I ran for a long time. Over and through logs, bushes and branches, always looking back to see if it was following me. Perhaps an hour later I stopped, panting. I found a secure looking hill and attempted to sleep. I did not. All that night I was haunted by those eyes, utterly convinced it was coming for me. I got up early in the morning and resolved to go back where I came from, planning a large detour and paying all costs to avoid meeting the thing again and returning to the orange litten streets and concrete buildings I did not believe I belonged.

I do not remember much for a while. My packed food I kept eating, and it did not run out, but the wonder of the abyss that was the unpolluted night sky was overlooked by eyes searching not for wonder, but over my shoulder for something which may or may not be just out of view. My torch ran out a long time ago. I also cannot tell when I knew I was lost-perhaps a few days afterward-but when it dawned on me that I would spend an indefinite amount of time with the thing somewhere in the same forest I reached the brink of ultimate paranoia. You probably think of my fear as irrational. You did not see it that night. I feel as though it’s talking to me in an alien tongue, mocking my isolation with only it as company.

I got little sleep for many nights, and then my fears that it was coming were confirmed. I was just closing into darkness under cover of a ledge when I saw it again. Two points of light, glowing, not reflecting. I threw a stone at it and ran. I doubt I hit anything. Night after night I spent cowering, half-insane, under fallen trees and in ditches, always thinking of what was slowly moving in my direction, all knowing, all seeing, following me.

After many long nights, as I ate what remained of the energy bar which had been fueling me all day, instead of giving into the insane situation I had found myself in, I suddenly began thinking again. For a moment the intelligence I knew I had lost came back to aid me. A whirlwind of thoughts rushed through my mind, and I welcomed them. The creature is slow, and whenever I see it, it does nothing but stare. It is not even obviously violent, albeit malevolent. If I could summon the courage to approach it, a rock in each hand, I could... no. the eyes and grin came back to the front of my mind where they had spent so much time already. No creature like that would allow interaction or destruction. I could maybe find a way back to civilization eventually, but I must at all costs never see the eyes. But I must try to do something. I can tell it knows everything about me, where to find me in civilization, and the life I had been attempting to escape. Even if I do escape, the eyes will still be looking for me, everywhere I try to hide. And so with this resolution, I decided I must primarily try to find out what it is, and secondarily, kill it so I may find security in my mind once more.

And so I slowed my pace so as to let it catch up to me. I awaited many long nights. precisely, I cannot tell how long I spent staring into the darkness. I think my food ran out about then, too. I don’t remember eating. In retrospect I think I was starving. My mind wandered through phantasms of worlds without light, populated by creatures like this one. A strange melody of flute playing and muffled drums beating from far off places entered my mind. Lucidly did I dream, but I did not care. My eyes were open. That was all I needed. I felt as though any attempt to control my own imagination would cause me to run screaming into the darkness to meet any fate the universe had planned for me. And so I sat, upright, sleepless eyes staring at things beyond vision.

And finally, one night. Two pinpoints of light in the darkness just within the clearing where I waited. Now I feel that I would have fled despite my plan if I had not already been driven insane by lack of food and sleep. I spent only a few seconds building up my courage before I picked up a large rock, stumbled to my feet and shakily made my way to come face to face with that which had tormented me for an amount of time only recorded by the gradual scrambling of my mind. The creature continued its mocking, idiotic grinning stare as I approached. I had aspirised that, in a best-case scenario, I would communicate with it. But I had that thought before I stopped eating and sleeping. The mind is angered by hunger, driven to animalistic insanity by it. An uncontainable rage filled my lungs as I thought of the nights I spent cowering from the thing, my anger plowing itself through the mocking visiage that was the face of the thing which had held me captive for a time I do not remember. A roar shot through my body as I flung my right arm, rock in hand, at the face of what I then knew to be the judgement of humanity. I had come out of the civilized world to escape, and found the monstrous. And, as I would willingly abandon a life of streets, I would not allow a thing like this to reign on any part of Earth’s hallowed ground. I probably passed out about that point, the last thing I heard was a crack.

When I awoke, I did not know how many times the sun had passed over me. It was morning. For the first time on my journey I noticed that it was cold. Dew covered the ferns in which I lay. The sky above was a fiery pink with a growing yellow at the horizon. I felt refreshed, and for a moment did not notice my hunger, believing I had only slept one night, during which my mind took trips into the darkest circle of hell and came back out alive. I stood up, almost smiling pleasantly as is customary to do after a long rest. I did not question the location I found myself in, lying several yards from my pack in deep undergrowth. I was simply glad that I no longer had to live in the false reality my mind had so cruelly pushed upon me as I slept. Then I looked down. I noticed a form lying just in front of me. All came flooding back, and I knew it had been reality. There was my rock, maybe five feet to the side, and pointing in its direction was the thing I hoped I would never have to see again, still looking at me. The eyes still saw. It was dead, nothing would still be alive after a half-insane pilgrim hits it very hard on the head with a rock and then lying motionless for however many days and nights. But it lived. It saw and thought. Its mind still soared through unimaginable distortions of the world it inhabited. But it did not move. I could no longer bear the sight of this creature continuing to stare at me, and resolved to wander until I be found or die. Either option I would have accepted after what I had endured. I did not realise my mistake as I turned my back on the thing, truding into the dark forest.

I doubt I would have survived another hour if I had not been spotted crawling around the bottom of a valley by a hiker on the trail above. I spent many days in hospital. Many doctors mentioned “shock” and “delirious” as I tried to explain to them what had happened. I was thrown back into an apartment I knew well, left to brood to my thoughts. I monotonously resumed the life civilization had set for me, but I could never shake off what I had seen. Always in my mind were the eyes. And I knew that somewhere, in some untrodden clearing deep within the unknown, those eyes still saw. Through all of spacetime, they were looking at me. No matter where I am, no matter how I hide myself, they stare. And I can find no peace in the universe knowing that they stare still over the rolling, pine covered hills and through the concrete metropolis. And I must stop them some other way. I will go to the forest. I know where to find them. I will walk until I come across the grey lump which is still lying in the clearing, and I will make the eyes close.