The Dog-Faced Usurper:A Vignette from the Diary of the Nameless Librarian
Translated from the Latin by Legonimis
October 31, 20-
Humanity will be tested within the next few hours by one of its foulest adversaries…and yet most do not know him. Such is the way of things, when that which was widely feared becomes obliviated arcana.
It was 7 years ago, not long after my discovery of the lost Dee manuscript and my little-known ascension to Warlord, that They showed me the cynocephalic vision for the first time. Under a waning moon he sat, bedecked in bone and feather, his fur matted with the darkest ichor, drinking from a skull with a physiognomy not unlike his own, a huge and headless serpent at his feet. The world seemed black and dim, humanity crying out in misery and horror.
It was then that I began my efforts, under the guise of the University’s Cradle of Life Project, to scour the globe for some hint of what this villain could be and what They asked of me. After wasting years in China, after an unfortunate encounter in the remote forests of Croatia, and after many dead-ends among the Uzbeks, my attention was turned to Mesoamerica and the discovery of the deep cenote under the Temple of Kukulkan.
Using the University’s connections, I directed the Cradle of Life Project toward the various Aztec and Mayan codices, artifacts, and historical sites. With some financial effort and much diplomatic maneuvering, the Project was able to obtain archeological access to numerous sites across many countries.
Having helped local scholars make invaluable discoveries, I was able just this year to gain discretionary access to the Temple and the cenote below.
After deciphering key inscriptions across the pyramid and from a few newly discovered codices, with the help of Dec and his Amate database, I became certain that I had reached my destination. Consulting the indigenous locals, I was allowed access to some traditional medicines that brought on a new series of visions. What I witnessed was too horrific to be written down; suffice it to say, this Dog-Faced Usurper, known locally as Xolotl, and likely related to Nyarlathotep of the Necronomicon and to Wepwawet of the Asyut cults, is an Elder one who must never awaken.
I must rest now for soon I shall descend into the unfathomed depths on the cenote, likely an abyssal prison to a god almost forgotten.
May They lead me with certainty!
——
As I sprang awake from a horrific dream sent by Them, Dec has delivered news: a sudden spike in local seismicity could mean the collapse of the cenote and the pyramid atop it.
Securing our packs, laden with basic spelunking gear as well as an assortment of occult books and paraphernalia, we will now descend into the depths of the natural well, seeking what only They might know and what is likely best forgotten.
——
It has been some hours since we reached the known bottom of the cave. Upon careful examination, we found a sediment-masked entrance from what seems to be the pre-classical period, based on superficial similarities to the triadic architecture of Tikal and El Mirador, though strangely and awkwardly inverted. Beyond the threshold was a large but weathered altar; inside a stone vessel, however, we found what would appear to be dried marigolds and skins with traces of some organic material, possibly chocolate. The age of these items is difficult to determine; they were so undisturbed that they could have been there a day or several millennia.
A steep and winding stairwell lay beyond the altar. Numerous pictograms and carvings, mostly illegible or predating the language as we understand it, line the walls. Most seem to depict dual males, possibly siblings of even twins, one feathered and often tinted red, the other bearing fur and of a dark blue complexion. Possibly the prototypes for Xolotl and Quetzalcoatl, as the Mexica and Toltecs would later label them?
——
The air becomes heavier and warmer with each step we descend. The torches seem dim, almost choking on the blackness around us.
——
We hear sounds below us. Possibly our footsteps reverberating oddly but eerily like the sound of drums or hearts beating in unison.
We are close, perhaps too close.
——
Like Nameless City as described by Alhazred, or perhaps even the ancient bowels of Boston as described by Carter, this place was meant to be lost in time. We have arrived finally at a hideous and diabolical shrine, carved into a semi-volcanic vent so that its mouth breathes as though alive, a steady rhythm of air echoing in the altar-stones as though a heart beats, magma dimly illuminating deep and sinister eyes. It is the Dog-Faced Usurper that They have shown me. I must rest again; the demonic spirit of the place oppresses my better faculties. Dec will keep watch.
——
Two gunshots have jolted me awake. I do not know if my young companion was driven by temporary ecstasy or dreadful experience but he claims to have seen at least two creatures of small stature, neither entirely unlike or entirely like human beings as we know them, ascend from some imperceptible recess below the hideous icon.
Though it has been many minutes over since he discharged the pistol, the sounds of the gunshots seem to linger in the air, rebounding perhaps through countless chambers unseen.
I fear we can brook no further delay. Using a recently discovered copy of the Uaxactun Codex, which I managed to “borrow” from a colleague, along with some select mining equipment, I will make my preparations, both mundane and arcane.
——
I have done my best. I have profaned this shrine with images of Kulkulkan, Quetzalcoatl, and numerous variations as seen across the subcontinent. I have chiseled away pieces from the icon to make the resonances and expirations less foreboding. I have secreted away numerous devices of plastic explosive, each with a chemical detonator. We have only 15 minutes to exit this pit; may They carry us on swift wings.
——
It is ended. I do not know if we were successful. It would seem that Dec was not touched by a vision when he witnessed the demi-humans, seemingly dog-faced like their horrible god, in the temple below. We barely managed to exit the first altar’s threshold when a small package was tossed at our feet, almost casually. It was two of the five explosive devices we had left behind. Not having sufficient time to deactivate them, we threw them back past the inverted archway, firing the remainder of our pistols’ rounds as we fled.
We had barely begun to ascend the sheer face of the well when the explosions seemed to shake the very foundations of the Earth. The cenote resounded with a sound like a hideous roar that seemed full of hatred, rage, and righteous indignation, as if some long-plotted scheme had been foiled.
The temple complex below is likely lost forever…or so we can hope.
——
November 1, 20–
The Forsaken Ones seem to be pleased with my efforts. The Temple of Kukulkan remains undamaged, the explosions confused with further seismic degradation related to the earlier earthquakes. My cover remains intact.
—-
November 2, 20–
I add the following note almost as an afterthought. However, it seems necessary, given our disturbing realization. After further consulting Amate in order to attempt to refine our understanding of the events two days ago, we have uncovered some unsettling information.
The cenote beneath the Kukulkan pyramid, previously thought to be one of the remnants of the Chicxulub crater, may in fact be one of an innumerable set of wells related to a speculative impact of an entirely different origin.
Part of our Amate database includes local surveys, oral traditions, and ethnogeographic data. One of Dec’s algorithms has sorted out a string of seemingly unrelated entries that now point to a strange coincidence: the local peoples all seem to agree that the valley was once possibly filled with fire and brimstone following an impact by an extraterrestrial object. It was around this time that worship of Chaac and, later, Kukulkan, was taken up by the neighboring groups, which eventually took control of the area and built the pyramid.
Since the Chicxulub event predates the evolution of modern humans as well our our closest hominid relatives by countless eons, this tale of a heavenly object descending to this valley would suggest a smaller, more localized event.
What happened all those years ago? What…or who…fell from those empyrean heights?
—-
Another vision. My Gods. There is so much to do…