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Supernova
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2009
In Lancaster mall there was an unfortunate problem that would have certainly changed the location or design of the large shopping center. If only the original investors had contacted the proper authorities at such a fine institution of the Miskatonic University or any number of other centers for learned scholars certain issues could have been avoided. The most prevalent issue was the matte black liquid oozing from the ground through cracked tiles in the center of the mall's food court and combined entertainment area. Ringed by the entirety of the mall, one could see any of the stores on the three levels merely by walking somewhere near the center of the food court. It lead to a space that was very open, relieving feelings of claustrophobia similar to those in boxier designs.
However when one creates a building that is a perfect circle in an area where the fabric of reality is weak, things from planes more inherently intricate than our own may leap through. You create a perfect portal, honed with the intent expression of people gathered there every day, all day, all focused on fulfilling their vices. All that communication, the sweet dopamine rush of handling cash, the saccharine serotonin sweetness of a new toy--all this swirling energy collecting in that perfect circle, weighing down on the tapestry of the universe until the things waiting to claw through from the other side could arise. It took six years of waiting, defending his territory, before Torem could break through into the third dimension to sate-know-talk.
The creature slowly seeped through the fabric of reality stretched too thin by emotion caught in a perfect circle and then a watershed event--some thing became the straw that broke the camel's back. Torem dripped through the tiles of the floor of the center of the food court, at first slowly and then in a rushing torrent. The creature was opalescent as a gasoline rainbow, a mass of questing pseudopods and rolling mass. After that first moment of confused silence all hell broke loose--one of those whirling tentacles whipped out and slammed in the face of a bystander, stretching out over the young man's entire body before completely crushing it in a sickening series of bursts and pops, the bone grinding against bone, the liquid tear of flesh.
All of a sudden that face appeared pressed against the outline of the roiling ichor chattering nonsense.
However when one creates a building that is a perfect circle in an area where the fabric of reality is weak, things from planes more inherently intricate than our own may leap through. You create a perfect portal, honed with the intent expression of people gathered there every day, all day, all focused on fulfilling their vices. All that communication, the sweet dopamine rush of handling cash, the saccharine serotonin sweetness of a new toy--all this swirling energy collecting in that perfect circle, weighing down on the tapestry of the universe until the things waiting to claw through from the other side could arise. It took six years of waiting, defending his territory, before Torem could break through into the third dimension to sate-know-talk.
The creature slowly seeped through the fabric of reality stretched too thin by emotion caught in a perfect circle and then a watershed event--some thing became the straw that broke the camel's back. Torem dripped through the tiles of the floor of the center of the food court, at first slowly and then in a rushing torrent. The creature was opalescent as a gasoline rainbow, a mass of questing pseudopods and rolling mass. After that first moment of confused silence all hell broke loose--one of those whirling tentacles whipped out and slammed in the face of a bystander, stretching out over the young man's entire body before completely crushing it in a sickening series of bursts and pops, the bone grinding against bone, the liquid tear of flesh.
All of a sudden that face appeared pressed against the outline of the roiling ichor chattering nonsense.