THE DARKWALKER COMES

D A R K W A L K E R

It has been there ever since you first arrived in this world. An ancient, impossible voice that whispered to you, nestled in your ear and scorned your presence from the very second you stepped foot in this world. The voice that sends shivers down your spine, and makes you want to run — something so old and terrible, there are no words for it. The one that hissed to you Interloper, and told you from the very start what you are: the fly in the ointment, the spanner in the works. To it, you are not part of this world, this place. You are not part of nature’s design. You should never have been brought here, and it wishes to correct the misbalance.

In the days beforehand, you hear its voice more often. It whispers things to you, the darkest things in your heart, the worries and fears you keep locked down within you. It knows you, knows every inch of you. But it assures you that your time has finally come, and soon you will know the end. You will go into the Dark. A wrong will be righted.

Perhaps you should make plans: say your goodbyes, organise your meagre belongings and hand them out those you have come to trust, befriend, even love. You do not have long. Even the voice within you that tells you to fight, to live — it has gone silent. You are filled with an understanding, a mute resignation: this will be the end of you. You are marked, and there is nothing you can do but prepare, and wait.

Night falls, and the sky is dark and green and terrible. There are no stars. The air is calm, too calm. Interlopers all over the Northern Territories will stop and stare — and will find themselves fleeing for the safety of their homes. Not even the bravest of souls is immune. All will hide away in terror. They will not hold the knowledge of what is to come, they can only cower back from the green skies and terrible sounds.

But not you.

Perhaps you wait alone by the fire, huddled in your home. Perhaps you will go outside to meet it. Whatever you choose to do, it will come for you soon.

On the horizon, towards the east, come the roars: unnatural, almost demonic sounds that have no animal, no beast to liken it to. The sounds are haunting, a terrible herald of its arrival. You look, but you see nothing. But you know it is drawing near, you feel the change around you — an oppressive pressure growing tighter and tighter that you fear you can no longer breathe.

It was the Darkwalker that spoke to you, right at the very beginning. It was the Darkwalker the appeared before you in The Dream. The Abomination. The Devourer. The Ending Of Everything. A powerful force that has tried to break you, to coax you into the Long Dark.

It has been coming for you for so long. And now it is finally here for you.

You feel it draw near, the monstrous roars growing louder. An invisible force, making a beeline for you. It moves through any obstacle if it was never there at all: huge, wide strides that will make the wood beneath it groan and crack, or snow part in small waves — splashing up around each step, eerie-green glints of light catching on the white, pools of green light marking its path. It is an oppressive presence, but hollowing. All courage you may hold dissolves from you, the edges of your vision blurring with black as you look up to the being as it draws up close before you. You may whimper, you may cry, you may scream, you may be completely silent — frozen in your horror.

In the last moments of your vision, you see it: a huge, shapeless shadow. Three wolf skulls joined, eye-sockets glowing green and terrible, and their three open maws, dripping with more green. Another understanding grips you: there is nothing, there is no more after this. There is only the Dark. There will be no comfort for you, only the knowledge that it was supposed to be this way. A huff of smoke clouds from those skulls, the low moan of hunger as it descends upon you to feast.

A great cry fills the air, though you will not hear it. But the Interlopers around you will. A woman's voice, the same one from the dream. A wail of despair and fury. And then, silence. In an instant, the skies return to normal.

And what became of you? Well, no one will know. For now. And it will one day come again for another.

When your fellow Interlopers eventually find you, they are granted a… perhaps merciful sight: there is no blood, no carnage. Maybe in time they will find comfort with that. But perhaps they will be forever haunted by the sight of you: there will be a body, whole. Contorted in fear. The sheer horror in your frozen expression, the hollowness of you in the wake of this Other kind of terrible, violent death.

You have been devoured by the Darkwalker.