The Pattern Of Completion
A Lovecraftian Tale of aligning the symbols, against all the elements.
I felt a single drop of sweat emerge disturbingly onto my left temple, pulling my focus away from my purpose.
It was impossible to resist its attention.
I moved to wipe it away, but it was already running its way down the side of my cheek, across my jaw, and disappearing, as quickly as it had formed, right down under my collar to join its already established kin.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go through with it.
I couldn’t hold it all in my mind, it was impossible to visualise.
With all the power I had, I forced my attention back and onto my hands. My body trembled as I pushed down into my hand, through my fingers, and onto the rough paper of the card directly in front of me.
After it overcame an initial resistance due to some kind of inherent friction, it slid quickly across the already existing arcane lines worn into the surface, their faded occult symbolism registering with me somewhere deep inside my distracted brain.
There, you did it. Two in place, just one more to go.
Perhaps it was possible after all?
I wiped away another bead of sweat before it could gather enough mass to run free and…
