MidReal Story
Whispers of the Mist: A Scholar's Awakening
Scenario: Hidden in the depths of the deep and infinite universe is an ancient and mysterious being. Its name is whispered in ancient texts and its image is depicted in the darkest dreams. It is an existence beyond human comprehension, a giant beast that sleeps in the river of time - Cthulhu.The story takes place on a remote island that is forever shrouded in a dense fog, as if nature itself were guarding its secrets. The inhabitants of the island have lived a simple and mysterious life for generations, always avoiding contact with the outside world, as if afraid that people from the outside world will discover the ancient secrets they guard.Until one day, a young scholar named Arthur came to the island by chance. He was a man with a keen interest in the occult, always searching for those forgotten histories and lost civilizations. When he set foot on this land, an uncanny sense of unease gripped him. But his curiosity drives him to explore deeper. He wants to unravel the secrets of this island, to find the truth behind those ancient legends.In the island's ancient library, Arthur discovers a forgotten tome with strange symbols engraved on its cover, as if telling an ancient story. When he turns the pages, the obscure words are like a spell that takes him into an unknown world. In this world, Cthulu was no longer a distant legend, but a horrifying reality that was about to awaken.As Arthur investigates further and further, the inhabitants of the island begin to show wariness and hostility toward him. They try to stop him from continuing his quest, even going so far as to use violence. But there's no turning back for Arthur; he's touched the edge of the truth, and he must uncover the secret, even if it means facing unimaginable horrors.Cthulhu's awakening is approaching, and Arthur will be the first to witness the catastrophe. On this ancient island, a battle for the fate of mankind is about to begin. And it all begins with the mist-shrouded island, and the intrepid quest of a young scholar.
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I have always been fascinated by the occult.
Though many think of it as something dark and sinister, I see it as mere knowledge that is lost to the ages.
As a young scholar with a keen mind and an average build, I have spent years reading and studying ancient texts that delve into the forbidden knowledge of the world.
However, my thirst for this knowledge has led me to an isolated island where the inhabitants are xenophobic and secretive.
No one knows anything about them except that they have lived in seclusion for generations.
The island is perched at the edge of the known world, shrouded in a thick fog that seems to prevent anyone from getting close enough to unveil its secrets.
But the fog can’t stop me.
With a warm breeze against my face, I approach the island in a small wooden ship, rowed by a weathered old fisherman.
The oars cut through the water with ease, but I can’t shake the sense of unease that has settled into my bones since I started this journey.
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is the only thing keeping me company.
The silence is suffocating, but the closer we get to the island, the more I notice lanterns being lit on the shore.
They brighten the night sky with an orange glow, betraying their purpose as they welcome us.
I can feel their warmth already.
I am more than eager to disembark this small boat and start my journey on this mysterious island.
The fisherman rows us towards the shore and I can now make out some figures standing there, waiting for us.
The lanterns are fixed onto long poles and are being held by people who don’t seem like they intend to move.
A couple of them are watching me as I approach.
They don’t flinch when our boat comes ashore, however roughly, and don’t seem to care when they get splashed by water.
I stand up and jump onto the shore, not even bothering to thank the old fisherman whose company has kept me sane on this journey.
He doesn’t even look at me when I leave, and instead starts rowing back to the sea.
I’m not surprised, and instead turn to the people on the shore.
There are about ten of them, all holding lanterns, and all fixated on me.
I walk towards them with a smile on my face, though the air is getting colder.
“Hello,” I greet them, but they don’t respond.
Their faces are blank and their eyes have no emotion in them.
They don’t seem to be hostile, however, so I continue walking.
Then I see her.
A woman is standing among the people at the far end of the row, standing slightly in front of the others.
She has long dark hair that cascades down her back like a waterfall, and her piercing eyes are watching me intently.
She is pretty, in a strange sort of way, and seems to be sizing me up.
I’m not sure what she sees, but I return her stare, unblinking.
Her dark eyes then flicker away from me, and she turns towards one of the people standing next to her and gives out some quick orders.
The person nods and runs off into the darkness.
The woman then looks at me again, and starts walking towards me with the rest of her people following her like ducklings behind their mother.
I wait for her to speak, but she only stares at me with a frown on her face and remains silent.
“Is there something you need?”
I finally ask, breaking the silence.
She is still frowning at me, and it feels like she’s trying to tell me something by looking at me so hard, but my poor mind isn’t clever enough to figure it out.
Then she finally speaks, saying, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Why not?”
I ask her, a bit puzzled by this sudden hostility.
She doesn’t answer, and instead turns around and starts walking back to the village, leaving me with the rest of the people still holding onto the lanterns on the shore.
“Who are you?”
I ask her retreating figure, but she doesn’t answer and disappears into the night.
We follow the winding path up to the village, the people still not saying anything to me while keeping their eyes on me, and we finally reach the closed gate leading into the village.
But they keep standing there and don’t seem to be intending on letting me through the gate, even though there’s no reason for them to be blocking my way.
It’s only when a new person suddenly appears that they finally open the gate for me.
“Hello, Arthur,” the new person says, looking down at me with a smile on his face, “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Who are you?”
I ask him, looking up to meet his gaze.
He is tall, with a kind face that reminds me of Dr. Samual Carter I met in the city last year when I was attending a medical conference.
“Do you not recognize me?”
he asks, looking amused now.
“No,” I reply honestly.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, “You will soon remember who I am.” Then he turns around and starts walking towards the inner part of the village.
I follow behind him, and ask him, “How long have you been living here?”
He laughs at my question and replies, “You ask that as if this place is still bound by time.”
“Of course it is,” I say, puzzled by his words.
But he only shakes his head and stops walking before the next gate leading into the village.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says, “What you’re thinking doesn’t matter either.” He then turns his gaze to meet mine and asks, “Why are you here?”
“To find answers,” I reply without hesitation.
He nods at my answer and says, “You’ll find your answers soon enough, Arthur.”
The flowers that line the path leading into the village glow in the dark night sky like the stars in the universe.
They look beautiful, more beautiful than any flowers I have ever seen in my life.
But then I realize that the strange glowing light isn’t coming from the flowers themselves, but from inside them—and there’s something living inside of them as well.
It takes me a moment to realize what is happening to the flowers: they are pulsing like hearts and breathing like lungs—they are alive!
The air is filled with a sweet scent when we walk past the flowers that threatens to pull me into a daze if not for the guide’s firm grip on my arm that keeps me rooted in place.
“What are these flowers?”
I ask him quietly while taking another deep breath of the intoxicating scent in case I’ll never get to smell something so heavenly ever again after today.
“They’re called Luminous Star Flowers,” he replies after taking a moment to look at them too, as if he hasn’t seen them for years despite living here for so long, “They’re only found on this island.”
“But how is that possible?”
“I thought this island was abandoned by people.”
“People might have left,” he says as we start walking again and passing by the Luminous Star Flowers as if they are nothing out of the ordinary now that I know they exist, “But their creations remain.”
“Are there more?”
I ask him excitedly.
But he doesn’t answer my question and instead says in a grave tone that makes me shiver in fear again, “Be careful not to touch anything here.”
I nod at his warning and make a mental note of it.
The buildings on the island are strange too: they are shaped like giant vertical cylinders that seem to stretch up into the sky infinitely.
It is as if they are alive and breathing like the flowers lining the path leading into the village are.
And like the flowers, there are strange symbols carved into the surface of the buildings as well that I can’t read—although I think I might be able to if I can just look at them long enough.
It is a sight both awe-inspiring and unsettling to watch the buildings breathe and stretch as we pass by them on our way deeper into the village.
“There’s nothing here that will harm you, Arthur,” the guide says when he notices how unsettled I am by the sight of the living buildings, “The people here are not like us.”
“But I thought they were supposed to be guarding something,” I say, “How can they not be human?”
He stops in front of a larger building that looks almost like a palace with a grand entrance meant for kings, and opens the door for me.
“You can ask him,” he says, “He’ll be able to answer your questions.”
I step inside the building after one last look at the guide who has brought me so far, but he only smiles at me encouragingly before closing the door on me.
I take a deep breath and walk down the long hallway, my footsteps echoing in the silence while I look around at the intricate carvings and designs on the wall that seem to tell stories I wish I could read.
When I step onto the shore of the island, I feel as if I am stepping into another world entirely.
A world that is not of my own, where things are not what they seem and reality is nothing but a fickle concept.
I feel a wave of unease wash over me again as I step out of the boat and onto the shore, and I can’t help but wonder if I am making a mistake by coming here.
The old fisherman’s words—“May fortune favor your curiosity”—do little to settle my nerves, and I can’t help but think that perhaps I would have been better off staying home where I belong.
But it is too late for that now.
I am already here.
And I have already come so far.
I thank the old man for bringing me here and ask him where I might find lodging for the night.
He tells me that there is an inn in the village where I can stay and that if I speak with the innkeeper, a man named Jonas, he will be able to arrange everything for me.
I thank him again and offer him some money for his troubles, but he only shakes his head.
“There’s no need for that,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “It was my pleasure to bring you here.”
And then he turns and starts walking back toward the boat without another word, leaving me standing alone on the shore in the darkness while I watch him go until he disappears from sight completely.
Well then, I think as I stand there watching him go, so much for island hospitality.
I turn my attention back toward the village again and look around while trying to make sense of what I’m seeing through the thick fog that seems to be everywhere at once.
I can’t see much beyond the shore where I’m standing now, but I imagine that if I follow the path into the village, I might be able to see more of it from there—although it would probably be best if I waited until morning before going anywhere right now.
But then again, maybe not…
I came here to get answers to my questions.
To learn the truth about the island that everyone else is afraid to know.
If I’m going to do that, then I can’t be afraid to go anywhere.
Even now when everything is telling me that this place is wrong and that something is terribly amiss.
I take a deep breath and start walking toward the village.
Curiosity burns in my chest like a flame that is brighter than any fear that might be trying to hold me back.
And despite the terrible sense of foreboding that is starting to creep over me now that I’m alone in the darkness without the old fisherman to guide me any longer, the flame inside of me does not diminish.
It only burns brighter with each step that takes me closer and closer to the answers that I seek.
The old man in the tower said that he would answer my questions if I came here tonight.
And I am determined to find him no matter what it takes.
But first…maybe I should find that inn instead.
It’s been a long journey, after all.
The streets are narrow and winding with tall buildings made from stone and wood on either side.
They are the only things blocking out the mist and darkness and preventing them from swallowing up the entire place.
The streets are empty and silent except for the sound of my own footsteps on the cobblestones, echoing off the walls and getting lost somewhere above me.
The village itself is also hidden in darkness since there are no streetlamps to light the way or any other sources of light to cut through the fog and make it easier to see.
But every now and then I can see something glowing through one of the windows on the upper floors—maybe candlelight or some other kind of lantern.
And although all of it helps to create an eerie sort of atmosphere and adds to the feeling of wrongness that seems to be clinging to everything like black mold, it doesn’t really bother me all that much.
Not when there are other things happening around me that are much more alarming and worthy of my attention.
I have been walking for a while now, but the village still hasn’t come to an end and I can’t see anything except for more buildings and more cobblestones in front of me.
All around, it feels like there are eyes watching me from all directions—staring at me through the windows and from behind the doors, up on the roofs and down in the dark and hidden alleyways—and the sensation makes a chill run down my spine and my skin begin to prickle with awareness.
But despite my best efforts, every time I look for the source of these invisible eyes, there’s nothing there.
There’s no one there at all.
Or at least, not that I can see.
And so, eventually, I stop trying to find them and just keep walking instead until finally, finally, finally…The village comes to an end and there’s nowhere left to go but back in the direction where I came from.
That’s when things start to get really strange.
The buildings are old and weathered and even though they look like they’ve been standing here for hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of years, they’re all still in perfect condition.
There are no missing bricks or broken windows, no peeling paint or mold growing on the walls, no rotting wood or creaking boards or any other signs of age and decay to be found anywhere.
Not even when there are weeds sprouting up through the cracks in the cobblestones all around them as if they haven’t been cleared away in years and there’s no one around to keep them under control any longer.
The architecture is also strange and different from anything else that I’ve ever seen before.
At first glance, it looks like any other kind of old-world design with its high arches, tall spires, and ornate carvings peeking out from here and there on the walls.
But look a little closer and you’ll see that it’s not really anything like it at all, but rather a strange and unique blend of many different things all mixed together in a way that doesn’t seem to make much sense or have much rhyme or reason behind it.
The people who live here are strange too.
