The Colour Out Of London

I had forgotten them.

Years ago, their bizarre and inhuman existence had haunted my dreams, and I felt horror at the terrible eyes and incomprehensible evil born of some ancient device. If only I knew then the true terror that would follow, perhaps I could have better prepared myself.

This would prove futile, however, for on the morning of Friday, July 27, I met, once again, with their unmistakable visage.

Hope had departed. Immediately, I could hear the cries of terror echoing throughout the world, a petrified whimper as the citizens of Earth realized there was no defeating this evil, this coming desolation.

The Old Ones had returned. Truly, the end was near.

I could only return their gaze in horror, in madness, and could not breathe for several seconds. The cloud of darkness had fallen, a silhouette painted in impossible colors too terrible to describe. The unfathomed beasts were upon us.

Oh God, their eyes. Their eyes!

Image courtesy Department for Culture, Media and Sport / 2012 London Olympics.