The Supermarket Out of Space Pt.3

Read part one HERE and part two HERE

Unencumbered by the present mental scars that now hang around my neck like millstones I was able to press on deeper into the shapeless maw of that nameless place. Eschewing a basket as I was unwilling to revisit the horror that had previously occurred, I scrambled as silently as I could deeper into the abyss over the broken and uneven floor. Passing through a waist high gate the merciless darkness enveloped me. Presently I felt formless protuberances pawing at me and I hurried along my rock strewn path. A strong smell of decay filled my senses as I groped along empty shelves hewn into the rock walls. I kept as noiseless as I could, not wishing to disturb whatever eldritch horrors lurked in these vile dank depths. My searching hand alighted on a pile of rotting vegetable matter and I retracted it quickly in disgust, gritting my teeth lest I allow another scream to emit from my mouth. With some mental strength I forced myself to return my hand to the loathsome pile and I groped about in that half-light until I grasped an object that I could not crush in my grip. The shape was a rough bulb with a tapered end, I knew this to be a familiar article and the normality seemingly out of place in this alien and incongruous landscape. Holding on to the bulb-shaped object tightly, as though dropping it would lose an aspect of normality and bring me to the darkest edge of insanity, I continued the task of searching for further vitals in the putrescent dark.

Presently my hand alighted upon a square shaped box. Again, the firm lines and symmetry of this new artefact seemed so out of place and incongruous in this multi-dimensional chasm that I presently occupied. A hunchbacked parody of humanity lurched from an unseen corner, the shapeless form stumbled over my leg and squirmed on the floor like a fish deprived of its usual habitat. My face was contorted in fear and disgust as I turned about in blind panic and retreated back the way I had come. In my unthinking rout I fell against a mountain of dented and rusty cans which came crashing to the grimy floor on contact with my fleeing body. The shattered silence was deafening and I fear it woke the very hounds of Hell themselves. In my fright I had dropped what little I had managed to gather and desperately groped on the unbalanced floor vainly trying to gather my belongings. As my search continued in desperation and frenetic crescendo I could hear the mindless flute music becoming louder. The growing noise unhinged me such that my rummaging became frantic as I failed to locate my produce amongst the dented cans. Whatever unnameable shambolic creature was playing the grim notes had been disturbed and was attracted to my position by the cacophony of the falling cans.

Louder and louder the whiny notes grew and as the lurking fear drew closer I realised the music was accompanied by chanting in some inhuman guttural tongue: 'IA SHOGGOTH! IA NYARLATHOTEP! IA YOG-SOTHOTH! IA FTAGN!' It seemed many mouth-less voices echoed the phrases, all the while growing louder and closer to my location. I was suddenly aware my face was wet from weeping with fear and my entire body was shaking in spasms that I was finding difficult to control, I could feel the rising bile of a deep and arcane horror advancing upon my position and knew I was unable to stop its extraterrestrial progress. Dizzy and half maddened I drew enough strength to stand and took faltering and stumbling steps towards a small crack of light which I perceived to be the exit of this damnable charnel pit. The chanting was by now unbearable and I could feel the presence of several unearthly beings reaching out and grasping for my frail human frame, but somehow, God be praised, I managed to keep running towards that vestige of safety offered by the light. Frenzied madness overcame me as my mind blurred and of the rest of my flight I have no memory.

This is how I was found, I have no recollection of any passing until I awoke three days later secured to a bed in this degenerate asylum. My doctor most sincerely assured me that I was later found wandering in the low afternoon sunlight, dressed in rags, filthy and bloody, babbling in an esoteric tongue not of this world. In my hands I gripped two objects which I would not be coaxed to release even with the strength of the strongest of the asylum's guards. Although there is no proof, I am convinced that it is these two objects which allowed me strength of mind to keep stumbling towards the exit, even with the creeping foetid breath of imminent infernal oblivion on my neck. These human touched articles gave me enough presence of mind to conjure a deep strength to see me blunder out of that yawning mystical tomb and back into our three dimensional human plane.

I held in my right hand an onion and in my left a quiche Lorraine.