A Curious Case Study

Extract from the research logbook of Dr Mortina Death

Investigation into unusual Psychic entities: Case #34

[…] I entered the Headspace of Mrs Murial Visconti, 83, at 17:24, 02/04/23, in her room at the Pleasant Palace Retirement Home.

Mrs Visconti reported repeated Nightmares, fears of her own demise from unspecified ailments. Breadspace environment was regular, no major issues or health scares.

Journey into the Subconscious Wilds proceeded without issue.

Manifestation was desert-like, with a landscape of red and yellow sandstone, unusual formations, xenophilic plants (reminiscent of Mojave ecology, or possibly Dali paintings – NB: check if receptive has familiarity with either). Upside-town trees, bleached white. A sky of purple-blue haze (twilight? Representative of 'feeling on edge', nerves? – Investigate further).

Continued deeper. At first little sign of psychic life, only dried shells of crustaceans of some kind? Former Headspace constructs? Not currently active. Then, after approximately half an hour, definite signs of Nightmare activity. Traces of the characteristic 'black ink' pollution. Lesser Nightmares in the form of black Accipitriforme birds with Diptera heads gathered in the sky. But did not attack (merely watching? Flock formation suggests coordination.)

Headspace grew colder, frost forming on the ground, a feel of biting chill. This intensified, slowly, towards a particular stand of the white inverted tree-shapes, the lesser Aviform Nightmares perched on the branches. I carefully advanced between the trunks, regulating emotion in a manner now familiar to avoid detection. Inside the clearing I could see something new: the focus of the cold corona. A black humanoid figure, taller than my avatar, but not by much. Above it the 'sky' was pitch black – a void, like the pupil of a giant eyeball. Despite myself I felt my excitement quicken – I had suspected that this might be here, that this mind might host one of the legendary Primordial Nightmares: The Spectre. Supposedly the embodiment of – or perhaps a specialised feeder on (something to be ascertained) – that very universal fear: death. Ha, how could I resist?

As I saw it, it saw me. It moved towards myself in slow, birdlike movements, form shifting in a manner hard to perceive: a hooded skeleton, then, a figure of black ice, then, the corpse of Mrs Visconti, staring at me with sunken, misted eyes. Fascinating. Was it trying to provoke my fear? Acquire more food?

I did not feel afraid: less so even compared to other 'lesser' Nightmares. What did it make of my skeletal form? I wondered. I moved even closer. It changed again: a black-grey figure, flesh rippling, shedding dust. At first I did not realise: then I saw. It was a body made of the dying: plants growing, existing for a moment then crumbling to dust, over and over again. It opened something like a mouth, and a wave of – I am certain it was this though I have no way to verify – final sighs, last breaths, hit me. The plants and fungi on my avatar's form withered and died, the bones becoming hollow and cracked.

Now I felt its power. Now I felt afraid. I had underestimated it. In Headspace things are not what they first appear. Its size was an illusion, it felt as tall as mountains, greater still, its intelligence not human, despite its humanoid form. More alien than an animal, like something beyond. One of immense patience, to whom a human lifetime is like the blink of an eye. Its cold hunger reached out to crush me. I ran. I am not ashamed to say it. I ran from the Headspace and did not look back […]

[…] I believe that psychic Entites are more different, more unique, from other forms of life than previously assumed. Endoparasites or endosymbiotes of humanity, they have co-evolved with us since at least our earliest hominin ancestors. The Primordials may be the oldest lifeforms in existence, each specialised to a universal fear – shaped by us, but not of us? Where did they come from? Do they feed on non-human species? Are there other Entities out there, that seek other foods than fear? So many questions… My research will continue.


The Death Zone: A celebration

The reporters are gathered, lights and cameras competing for attention. The great and good of Museford are in attendance, along with a huge crowd of ordinary citizens, crammed in behind the railings.

A sleek, black limo pulls up, the door opens. The Mayor of Museford, Dr Mortina Death, steps out and strides to the podium. Standing discreetly beside them is their partner, Dr Evangeline Chevalier. The mayor begins to speak and the crowd hushes.

“Fellow Musefordians! Today is a day of triumph, a day our fair city has long awaited. For too long the people of East Museford and the Docks district have felt abandoned, betrayed by false promises of renewal, by crime, by urban decay, by the lack of opportunity and promise all citizens deserve.

But today I am pleased to announce that will finally change.” They step back, and gesture to the green trees and gleaming modern buildings, rising up from the old industrial area behind them.

“The Museford New Docks Eco-Development District, yes which some have christened, 'The Death Zone –“ (a knowing eye-roll from the Mayor and polite laughter from the reporters) “– will deliver affordable, modern, high-tech and eco-sustainable housing and jobs. With the opening of the Muse-Fuse experimental Fusion powerplant in the old Pancake and Teddy-bear factory, and the new MCU Science park, this area will become a magnet for next generation low-carbon energy, technology, investment, and urban renewal.

As I have always pledged, small and local business, and local residents, have been promoted and incorporated at every level, with new schools, markets, and transit. What we are building here is not just an architectural project. Not just a city. It is hope. A vision of what our city is meant to be, my duty to every person, a future for every child. Thank you.”

As they finish and the reporters’ cameras flash, the assembled crowd erupts in cheers. Mort smiles, and looks at Evangeline who is smiling too. Sometimes things do change for the better.