Salutations to Chaos

"..."

The ever lustrous Great Old One stood silent. Its servants worked tirelessly for Its Return.

Suddenly, It heard a call. No, a connection as thin as a single thread.

There laid a human, bloodied by broken glass on rotten wood. His face, a mess, and his body, scarred with cuts and scorch.

"H-ha..." His damaged vocal cords trembled, letting only a small sound.

"a... a..."

How he longed for revenge! How he longed for freedom!

But this hope was extinguished. This life could only end in agony.

The man closed his slashed eyes, he knew his condition very well. He will not die today but tomorrow, when the men return, he will.

It did not matter.

He looked back at his life. How he felt when he first received a toy, when he asked his first love out when he was promoted in his job... He realized how pointless they were.

How pointless his existence is.

Darkness seeped in his heart, blood began to slow down and his body no longer obeyed him.

For one instant, he perceived an existence greater than him. No, an existence greater than humanity itself. The simple peek began to torture his mind as his near-corpse-like body began to convulse, leaking pus.

His body began to burst, splashing guts and blood everywhere. Riveted in web-like guts, he began to twist, tear and transform. Until his form became still.

In the state of madness, he found enlightenment. Piecing the pieces together, his consciousness became clearer. Clearer than he had ever been.

"My name..."

No, there is no need for names. Names are illusionary, trying to put meaning into meaningless things. It is the foundation of a meaningless world and one bound to shatter as soon as its façade is seen through.

"My purpose..."

There is no purpose. No meaning. Nothing.

"My wish..."

The fleshy neck trembled, his wish...

How he wished to show these humans how fragile their structures are!