The Winds of Yith

Turning out my desklamp, I sat in the darkness, listening to the soft moaning of wind outside the window. Curious emotions stirred within me, but I felt neither regret nor fear, for what I had done. Old men may have things which give them pause, but death was not one of my worries. I have always said, in jest, that I worshipped death. Death was the only god to which I would someday bow. I was always misunderstood. For me, death will be a release from the exquisite torture one calls "life".

Lost in my thoughts, I did not hear the woman as she entered the room. I sensed suddenly that she was there. Although she was no more than a dim form in the darkness, I knew at once who she was.

"Good evening, Amber." My voice was calm, and I smiled to myself.

"What are you up to, Nathan?" Her voice sounded loudly, and I knew that her powers had told her that something esoteric had occurred. "I'm creating my own reality, my dear. If you've read any of the Seth books..."

"Don't be so bloody flippant," she said coming to the desk and switching on the lamp. Catching sight of the book that lay before me, she moaned softly.

"I'm spending the evening with an old friend," I replied, parting the book. It was the English translation of the "Necronomicon", handwritten by Dr. Dee, owned by one known to the human world as Wilbur Whateley. I had stolen the book from Wilbur's library shortly after his violent death, and had brought it with me when I left the town of Dunwich so as to settle in the Sesqua Valley.

It is a well-known book in some circles, but not well-liked. I saw a disturbed expression in Amber's eyes as she looked from the book to me.

"What have you done, Nathan?"

"I've summoned the Winds of Yith," I replied quietly. The serious tone in my voice startled myself as well as my visitor. "You've heard the legends, no doubt. No one is certain concerning the true nature of that which is called "The Winds of Yith". Some say it is a body of beings, some say it is a single entity. Legend tells us that that which is called by this name is a creature that somehow got lost between dimensions as it was journeying to this sphere. It is said to be a formless mass of energy which feeds on human souls. I question this, as it seems highly illogical. There would be no human soul at its place of origin..."

My lecture ended when I again met Amber's eyes. She was not a fool, and my pretense of nonchalance had failed with her.

In a low and quiet voice she continued telling the legend. "The human soul, or essence, is attractive to many forms of beings from the outside. They wear it as one would a perfume. To some it is like a potent drug which induces states of dreaming or ecstasy. There are those who grave it. The Winds of Yith is such a one. When summoned correctly, it can enter for a moment into our reality. It comes only to the person who has called it. To hear its distant howling is to taste madness. To feel the icy kiss of its nearness is to know instant death. The shell of flesh that was once a home fot the soul is frozen, then shattered into countless bits. The soul cannot escape. It is devoured by the beast becoming a part of it, doomed to howl forever with those who had been foolish enough to call forth that which is unnatural to our world."""

Outside the wind had died. The silence seemed oppressive to me. I could hear too clearly the words that had been spoken, felt too keenly how I had horrified my friend. Amber sensed my shame, and came near to me, stroking my white hair with gnarled fingers.

"You will never learn, Nathan. Within you lives a small boy who is continually seeking wonders and nameless thrills. I wish I could blame this action to your being very elderly, but I recall things you have done these past sixty years, and I realise you are staying true to your nature. But what you have done tonight is not only silly, it is suicidal."