The Tablet

I’ve always been obsessed with Demons. Not necessarily the Judeo-Christian sense of Demons. I mean the Ancient Sumerian/Akkadian Demons more specifically… The Utukku are good and bad Demons and that’s really the best way I can describe it without nerding out. Anyway, I evoked something that is worse than bad and I think I’m going to die. I don’t know if my story will get out but all I can do to stay awake is write. So here goes.

A package came last week earlier than normal mail gets delivered with no return address and no name… just mine. I thought it strange, but quickly opened it. It was a large bundle wrapped in red cloth and was extremely dusty. I set it down on the table next to the box and had the weirdest feeling of eyes on me. Like, the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up kind of weird feeling.

I look around and see nothing unnatural in my crap apartment. Except for it being a crap apartment. Like always. My phone rings and I answer it, my mom always has the uncanny ability to distract me. My uneasy feeling quickly disappears along with the memory of the bundle sitting on my table. It’s not until later that night that I remember the bundle. A cold tingle shoots up my arms. I shiver and dismiss the notion thinking I was just being paranoid again. I walk over to the table and turn the overhead light on so I could better see whatever this thing was.

I flip it over and start to slowly unwrap it for fear of spiders is great and I will cry like a baby. I pull the last corner off and see a smooth tan surface. My heart skips a beat as I flip it over to reveal cuneiform writing. An Ancient Sumerian Tablet! Sixteen years of study and not once have I actually got to HOLD one let alone see it from outside a glass box. I grab all my journals and quickly start to translate and quickly realize with even more heart stuttering excitement that it’s about Ancient Sumerian Demons. Well, more specifically one in particular called Alû who, being a vengeful spirit, frequented the Underworld Kur. Modern day he stalks the night and attacks men while they sleep. Almost like Lamashtu but minus the baby eating… the cold wave hits me even harder this time as I finish the translation.

I see the last part and find myself speaking it out loud to my horror. I can’t stop. The words keep pouring out like water from a faucet. “The wicked nor the innocent shall sleep. The Night belongs to Alû. Woe to mortal man who speaks these words for he will stalk. He will prey. He will eat. Woe to the weak,” suddenly my vision got dark and my body froze. I stared, frozen in terror as a figure stepped from behind the wall adjacent the table.

It had no mouth or ears. Just eyes, floating black orbs that shined in the dark staring at me with hunger. Blackness. I woke up the next day and the figure was gone but every night it would appear again. Those eyes staring at me with a hunger so carnal, so evil, so vicious it shouldn’t exist. I can’t stay awake much longer. The figure has started to breathe heavily, as if excited knowing the kill is near. Bones crack as its entire body turns around except for its head as it still stares at me. I’ve never seen anything crawl up the wall so fast in my life and now it’s directly above me stuck to the ceiling. I haven’t slept in a week. I need to sleep… I need to…