PS Creativity > Fan Fiction > Darkness on the Edge of Town > Prologue

a Fifth Doctor adventure written by Paul Clement

Prologue

Earth: 495 million years ago.

The crystalline tower rose high into the sky, its perfect beauty a stark contrast to the destroyed wastelands surrounding it. The surface, almost like polished diamond, caught the fierce sunlight, reflecting a kaleidoscope of colour over the debris strewn around.

High atop the tower, within a circular observation room, Hastur the Unspeakable surveyed the destruction with grim determination. His reptilian features clenched and unclenched involuntarily, and the tentacles on his body quivered in agitation as he viewed the remains of his realm. He was more incensed by the fact that most of the damage had been caused by himself, than at the devastation itself. He’d been foolish to underestimate Vracthna, never expecting him to launch an attack, but then, Vracthna could hardly have expected to succeed either. Now Vracthna was destroyed and his powers had transferred themselves through to Hastur, powers that Hastur knew he needed to come to understand as soon as possible.

Only fifty of their kind remained now. Few in number to begin with, their war of envy and bloodlust had quickly decimated their number till only the strongest remained. Vracthna had been the weakest of the survivors, and he had only remained alive for so long because he had allied himself with Shub-Niggurath. More would fall before the end, of that Hastur was certain. It was becoming a far greater risk to attack an opponent now though, with all, or almost all now of equal strength. One ill timed attack could lead to both remaining alive but substantially weakened and easy prey to another of their kin.

Returning his thoughts to his surroundings, Hastur was conscious of the fact that his people had managed in a few short years to destroy what it had taken them centuries together to build. Time was coming upon his race to look for a new path, but the thought of losing that feeling of bloodlust, that overwhelming sense of power when destroying the chosen victim, that was something that could not be given up so easily.

Perhaps a truce could be called? Hastur mused to himself.
An alternative way of life could be found. The powers they had could take them off this planet after a fashion, when the stars were in the correct alignment at least. Worlds teeming with life awaited the towering destruction they would bring with them. Worlds would tremble in fear of the Great Old Ones.

Stepping away from the window, Hastur moved into the centre of the room and held his arms high above his head.

‘Ia! Ia! Hastur!
Hastur cf’ayak vulgtmm,
Vugtlagn, vulgtmm!
Ai! Ai! Hastur!’

The room momentarily shimmered, almost as if time was struggling to keep its balance. When the effect subsided, three bat-like creatures stood before Hastur. ‘My Byakhee, go forth for me. Travel the Earth and pass my message to my brethren.’ The Byakhee prepared their wings for immediate flight upon the end of Hastur’s orders. ‘Go to Cthulu, to Shub-Niggurath and Dagon. Go to Lloigor and Yog-Sothoth. Tell them the time for peace amongst ourselves is at hand. Tell them it is time for the Great Old Ones to feed amongst the stars.’

 

read on with Chapter One

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