The Descent to Madness Read Online Free PDF Page A

importantly – dry stone. His vision swam with the onset of hypothermia and all he wanted to do was sleep. He made was way inside the cave, slowly, hands outstretched for it was pitch dark. He knew that the tiredness was a symptom of the extreme cold, that he should fight the exhaustion and find either something to cover himself, or better yet some dry leaves or wood to make a fire. But the knowledge of the fatigue’s source made it no easier to resist. Besides, it seemed to be getting milder, nay – warmer, even – the further he ventured into the cave.
                  He stopped and turned – the light from the entrance barely visible here, just a faint glow. This would be far enough. He slowly, creakingly, knelt down, easing his aching form to the ground where he lay prostrate, his tired muscles grateful despite the hard floor. It was warmer here, for certain.
                  Smiling at this change in fortune, the man closed his eyes and drifted off into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted.
     
    ***
     
    Stone awoke with a full bladder, as one often does of a morning, but as he made to move, some deep, reptilian part of his brain recognised that something was wrong. He lay on his side, eyes open, not moving, ears and nose scanning for whatever had intruded on his sleep. The light from the cave entrance was stronger now – he must have slept through the night. He gave a tentative sniff with his nose, nostrils flaring as they brought in a scent he must have been too tired to notice the night before; a pungent, musky aroma, reminiscent almost of wet dog, spoiled meat and faeces. His ears, filtering out the sound of birdsong that came from outside the mouth of the cave, picked up a deep, bassy rumble from behind him; a slowly, regular rhythm like the pumping of bellows. Like the drawing of breath of some great beast…
                  A deafening, bestial roar washed over him, rebounding off the walls of the cave. Sheer, primal terror flooded his system with adrenaline and his trousers with urine, the first true warmth he’d felt in all his short memory. Half rolling, half scrambling, he dashed towards the entrance of the cave and the light. His legs and feet were dead, numbed from the cold, and he stumbled as he reached the mouth, his foot giving way beneath him and sending him sprawling out in the snow. Coughing out a wet mouthful, he turned onto his back and, blinking in the bright morning sun, watched in abject horror as a vast creature from his worst nightmares crawled out to meet him.
                  The monster was akin to a bear, only enlarged to gargantuan proportions, bedecked with a fearsome pair of curved horns that sprouted from the sides of its skull, each stretching the length of a man’s arm. Its hugely muscled body was covered in dense black fur and its four thick limbs ended in splayed claws like kitchen knives. Its head possessed the short, squat muzzle of a hyena, with chunky, sharp fangs for rending and crushing. Atop its snout, two red, beady eyes that shone with a raw and bestial hunger.
                  The beast reared up onto its hind legs, its head ten feet above the ground, looming over its paralysed prey. With a rushing intake of breath the beast let out another roar, battering the poor man’s eardrums and shaking the snow from nearby branches, the foetid breath washing over him in a foul wave that reeked of corruption and decay. The monster dropped back down onto all fours, the ground shaking, betraying the hideous weight of the creature, before slowly and surely it paced towards him.
                    Adrenaline fuelled his actions, letting him spring up from the ground despite the stiffness in his limbs. He backed away slowly, one step at a time, not daring turn his back, not daring move too quickly for fear of sparking a chase. A crunch underfoot and he chanced a glance down, spying a hefty branch; some of it