This Chapter does not exist. The Nine Hells and High Heavens are not responsible for the story that is about to transpire on this webpage. If you have claimed to have read a chapter here, you will be called a misleading liar and a deceiving sinner. Remembering any of this is prohibited and punishable by Void.
You have been warned.
???
[Somewhere, on a dark calm night. Asher stands at a window of some sort of mansion looking outside towards an unending forest of dark green trees.]
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
[He turns around to a rather comfy-looking study. Bookshelves are covering most of the walls, a desk with a large maroon-colored chair, a lit stone fireplace against one of the walls with another maroon-colored chair, and a small table across from it. He walks over to one of the bookshelves.]
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
[He takes a book out from the shelves and inspects the cover. It read, "Forgotten Lore That The Writers Chose To Ignore II", with "First Addition!" & "Signed Copy!" beneath it. Asher walks over to the red chair in front of the fireplace and takes a seat. He opens the book and begins to read it.]
Hours Later...
[Asher finishes reading the last line of the book. He closes it and looks at the cover. He shrugs.]
Asher: Eh, the prequels were better.
[He tosses the book straight into the fire feeding the flames inside. He then crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, closing his eyes and breathing calmly.]
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
As of someone gently tapping, tapping at my chamber door.
[Asher jolts awake. He looks over his shoulder behind the chair he is sitting in towards his chamber door.]
Asher: Tis a visitor? At this time of December, at this time of night, in this part of my household,-
I muttered,
Asher: Entirely tapping at my chamber door?- Only this and nothing more...
[Asher sits there silently for a few seconds. He looks blankly in front of himself at the fireplace.]
Asher: This already doesn't make any sense...
[He turns and looks out the window to his left. The cold wind brushes gently against the purple curtains as the crisp air pours into the room.]
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
[He stares forward, blankly at the warm burning fire in front of him. He looks at the logs in the fire, eyeing the glowing red and orange veins of each and every one of them. A few sparks dance out of the fireplace onto the floor in front of him.]
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
[He raises his right hand to his neck and places it over his maroon bow tie.]
Eagerly I wished the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow;
[He reaches into his dress shirt pocket and pulls out a silver locket. He holds it carefully in his hand while staring at it with a sorry face.]
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost ♍︎︎︎♋︎︎︎■︎︎︎■︎︎︎□︎︎︎⧫︎︎︎ ♐︎︎︎□︎︎︎❒︎︎︎♑︎︎︎♏︎︎︎⧫︎︎︎-
[He pops open the locket revealing a picture resting inside of it. The picture looks faded, years maybe even a decade old. What still can be recognized in the picture is a man on the left and a woman on the right. Neither of them has a face, just a black spot where their faces should be.]
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name ♍︎︎︎♋︎︎︎■︎︎︎🕯︎⧫︎︎︎ ♑︎︎︎□︎︎︎ ♌︎︎︎♋︎︎︎♍︎︎︎🙵-
[He closes his hand and clutches the locket tightly. As if he would never want to let go of it. As he'd never see it again.]
Nameless here for evermore.
[The wind blows forcefully through his window, startling him. He looks over and sees each of his purple curtains dancing in the cold wind.]
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain;
[He places the silver locket around his neck and tucks it beneath his dress shirt all while watching his window out of the corner of his eye.]
Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
[He sits up in the red chair, his heart beating rapidly for some God-forsaken reason. Asher stairs at the fireplace in a slightly panicked state.]
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Asher: (Quietly) Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
[He looks over his shoulder at his chamber door attempting to keep his composure.]
Asher: (Quietly) Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
[He takes a deep breath and looks back at the fireplace, staring at the embers of logs from before.
Asher: (Quietly) This it is and nothing more...
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
[Asher stands up still eyeing his fireplace.]
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Asher: Sir,-
Said I,
Asher: Or Madam, or whatever the fuck you are, truly your forgiveness I implore;
[He turns and looks at his chamber door.]
Asher: But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came tapping,-
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
[He starts carefully and slowly walking towards his chamber door.]
Asher: And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
[He places his hand on the cold metal doorknob, his spine shivering from its touch.]
Asher: That I scarce was sure I heard you.
-here I opened wide the door;-
[Asher turns the doorknob and opens the door wide open. Expecting to find the culprit of the tapping on the other side of the door he yells out.]
Asher: AH-HA!
[There's nothing on the other side of the door. Just a dark room barely lit by the moonlight creeping in through the windows.]
Darkness... There the Void, and nothing more.
Asher: Oh... Well, now I sound like an idiot...
[He stares back into the room, into the darkness he saw before. He seems concerned, and uncertain as if there is something in the darkness he cannot see.]
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
[He looks around nervously. Expecting something to be hiding in the darkness of the room ready to pounce the second it was given the chance. Behind the sofa? No. Up the stairs? Can't be. On the ceiling? Lord hopes not.]
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
[He takes a step back into his chamber.]
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
[He looks around the room nervously. Believing that he is not alone. That he might just die. Here. And. Now.]
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Asher: (Whispering) 💣︎⍓︎ 💧︎◻︎♋︎❒︎🙵?
[Then, as if someone else was indeed in the room with him, a feminine voice can faintly be heard whispering back to him.]
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
???: ✡︎□︎◆︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎ ⧫︎♒︎♓︎⬧︎...
Merely this and nothing more.
[Asher feels a cold breeze on his shoulder as if someone had just breathed on him. He jumps and turns around to see nothing more. He steps back into his chamber and closes the door. He grabs the handle and locks it, preventing whatever may be on the other side from entering. Hopefully...]
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
[He begins walking back to the fireplace. His eyes dart across his chamber with each and every step he takes.
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
*THUMP* *THUMP* *THUMP*
[Asher's head immediately turns to his widow where a thumping can be heard. The window seems to now be completely closed.]
Asher: Surely,-
Said I,
Asher: Surely that is something at my window lattice; (Pause) What the hell is a lattice anyways?
[He gulps and walks over to his window carefully. Still on edge.]
Asher: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
[He grabs the bottom of the window.]
Asher: Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
[He hastily lifts the window wide open. He is immediately greeted by a slap of cold air from a gust of wind. He looks around nervously outside. The ground, trees, and more are all covered in snow and nothing more. Asher looks around nervously. After a few seconds, he seems to calm down. That is until a small scrape can be heard beside him.]
*Scrape*
[He looks to his left and sees the source of the noise. It was a tree branch brushing up against the house. He lets out a quiet relieved chuckle.]
Asher: *Chuckle* Heh... 'Tis the wind and nothing more!
[Asher reaches up for the window and begins to close it.]
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
*CAW*
Asher: OH FUCK!!!
[A bird flies toward Asher causing him to yell. He falls to the wooden ground as the bird flies into the room and onto the floor. Asher rubs his head and groans.]
Asher: *Pained Groan* Hate nature...
[The bird begins walking on the floor, wandering around the chamber.]
In there stepped a stately Crow of the saintly days of yore;
[The Crow has vibrant dark violet/royal purple eyes with feathers as black as night. It has a crest of feathers on its head that bend up from the back of its head towards the top of it. Asher stands up and watches the Crow as it begins walking over towards Asher's chamber door.]
Not the least obeisance made they; not a minute stopped or stayed they;
[It flutters up onto the door knob. Asher watches it, startled and confused. It then flies up on top of the door.]
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
[It then hops up on a bust of Pallas above the chamber door.]
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
[Asher takes a deep breath. The Crescent Crow looks around the room intrigued.]
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
[The Crescent Crow's eyes stop upon Asher. It stares at him calmly, its intentions unknown.]
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
[It tilts its head all while looking at Asher. Never looking away. His breathing calms once again as he looks at the bird considered. This and nothing more.]
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
[Asher lets out a small chuckle as a smirk grows on his face.]
Asher: *Chuckle* Heh... Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,-
I said,
[He starts carefully approaching the Crescent Crow, taking small and slow steps.]
Asher: Art sure no craven!
[He waves his finger at the crow, slightly taunting it.]
Asher: Ghastly grim and ancient Crow wandering from the Nightly shore-
[He stands a dozen feet away from the bird with his arms spread out as if he welcomes the intruder to his abode.]
Asher: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
[The two stare directly at each other. Not speaking a word. Then the Crescent Crow stands up.]
Crescent Crow: *Caw*
Asher: Can you uhhh... Repeat that for me? I'm a little rough on my aves.
Quoth the Crow,
Crescent Crow: *Caw* (Translation: Nevermore.)
[Asher's smirk slowly disappears. His eyes widened just slightly. He lowers his arms and slowly begins stepping back, panicked and afraid.]
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
[He grabs the back of his red chair and turns it towards his chamber door.]
Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore;
[He takes a seat, completely disconnected from the room he sits in. His eyes locked on the Crescent Crow that sits upon his chamber door.]
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
[The two continue to stare into each other's eyes. Neither speaking, creating a horrifying silence.]
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-
[Asher places his right hand on his heart, not removing his eyes from the crow.]
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
[The Crow tilts its head, still staring deeply into Asher's eyes as if it knows he's afraid of it.]
With such name as, "Nevermore."
[Asher leans back in his chair, breathing heavily.]
But the Crow, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
[He takes a deep, heavy breath.]
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
[He glares at the bird, attempting to intimidate it but ultimately failing.]
Nothing farther then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered-
[Asher leans slightly forward in his seat.]
Till I scarcely more than muttered-
Asher: Other fiends have flown before-
[He looks down at the ground before him.]
Asher: On the morrow it will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before...
Then the bird said,
Crescent Crow: ("Nevermore.")
[Asher's head darts back up to the Crescent Crow. He stares at it horrified as his breath rises once again. Just like before.]
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Asher: Doubtless,-
Said I,
Asher: What it utters is its only stock and store...
[He begins to lightly quiver in fear.]
Asher: Caught from some... Unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster!
[He seems to be angry and scared at the same time. As if he doesn't believe his current situation and hates himself for doing so.]
Asher: Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
[His voice begins to tremble...]
Asher: Till... Till the dirges of his H- Hope... That melancholy burden bore!
[He goes silent. He then glares at the Crescent Crow, shaking.]
Asher: Of... Never-... Nevermore...
[The two lock eyes once again. Much like before.]
But the Crow, still beguiling all my damned soul into smiling,
[He leans back into his chair, gaze not leaving the Crow.]
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
[He places both of his arms on the armrest of the chair. He grips the armrests tightly, attempting to calm down.]
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
[Asher reaches to the small table beside his chair and grabs a small glass of liquor. He brings the glass to his lips and takes a sip.]
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
[He holds the glass with both hands and looks deeply into the color of the drink. His mind seems stressed. Conflicted. Scared...]
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore,-
[He lowers his drink and looks back upon the Crow.]
Meant in croaking,
Asher: Nevermore...?
[His worries and fears seem to disappear all of a sudden. The Crescent Crow seems to notice. But it doesn't react. It continues to stay perched upon the bust of Pallas just above the chamber door.]
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
[Asher places the glass back onto the table beside him. He quickly stands up and makes his way to one of his bookcases near the fireplace.]
To the fowl whose royal eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
[He begins frantically searching through his bookshelf, looking for something he seems to so desperately need. He leans his head back and looks high up on the bookshelves.]
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining,
Crescent Crow: *Caw*
[The Crescent Crow caws as Asher continues to search his bookshelf for whatever he desires. Suddenly he stops and looks at the desk in the room. He hurries over to it. He arrives behind the desk and pushes the chair out of the way. He then gets on his knees and grabs one of the drawer handles. He pulls on it. It's locked.]
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
[He then pats his pants pocket looking for something. There's something in his left pocket. He reaches in and grabs the item, taking it out and holding it in front of himself. It's an odd-looking key with a plus sign blade, housing cuts, and bittings on all 4 parts of the blade. The head of the key is a small engraving. The engraving is of a pentagram with a holy cross inside of it. He flips it over revealing something on the other side of the head. It's writing, it reads out, "John 8:32".]
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
[He inserts the key into a lock on the drawer and turns it. The lock clicks and the drawer slightly pops outwards. Asher grabs the handle and opens the drawer, revealing to all what lies inside.]
She shall press... Ah...
[Asher reaches in and takes out the singular object inside the drawer. It's a book. A Bible with a white holy cross and a red demonic pentagram on its cover.]
Nevermore...
[Asher stands up and walks back over to the fireplace. He takes a seat in the red chair and looks back at the Crescent Crow above his chamber door. Then the air becomes cold. A strange sweet scent fills the room. It smells like a woman's perfume. A familiar scent that seems to calm him for only a second.]
Then, we thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer;
[The air continues to get colder. So cold that Asher can see his own breath. Or he would if he wasn't so focused on the Crescent Crow. The floorboards creek behind him, as if someone had just taken a step.]
Swung by Death whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Asher: Wretch...
I cried,
[He places his left hand on his temple. His voice begins to quiver with each word he speaks.]
Asher: Thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee...
[He seems to start to panic much like before. But this time there seems to be an undying sadness in his eyes.]
Asher: Respite-respite and nepenthe from thy memories of □︎︎︎︎︎︎︎■︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♏︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ ♋︎︎︎︎︎︎︎■︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ □︎︎︎︎︎︎︎■︎︎︎︎︎︎︎●︎︎︎︎︎︎︎⍓︎︎︎︎︎︎︎;
[Asher leans back in the red chair, with the book in his lap he looks up towards the ceiling. He gazes upon it as if he were looking at the heavens.]
Asher: Quaff, oh... Quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost ⬧︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♒︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♏︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎❼︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎⬧︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎ ♑︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎□︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎■︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♏︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎...
Quoth the Crow,
Crescent Crow: ("Nevermore.")
[Asher looks back down at the Crescent Crow still perched exactly where it was before. He moves both of his hands onto the Bible he took out of the locked chest drawer.]
Asher: P- Prophet!
Said I,
Asher: Th- Thing of evil!! Prophet still... If bird or devil!-
[He moves his fingers under the cover of the Bible and opens it only slightly.]
Asher: Whether Tempter sent, or wh- Whether tempest tossed thee here ashore!
[He leans forward, hands still carefully yet shakily holding the Bible.]
Asher: Desolate! Yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
[The air continues to get colder. The wind outside blows fiercely against the purple curtains.]
Asher: On this home... By Horror haunted! Tell me truly! I implore-
[He opens the Bible a tiny bit more, causing the cross and pentagram on the cover to slightly give off a glow before quickly going out.]
Asher: Is there-is there balm in Gilead?-Tell me...-Tell me, I implore!
[The Crescent Crow glares at Asher. It looks down at the Bible on his lap, then stares directly into his eyes.]
Quoth the Crow,
Crescent Crow: ("Nevermore.")
[Asher stares at the Crow. Shaken and distrubed. He raises his chin high, attempting to show to the Crow that he is calm and has the situation under control.]
Asher: Prophet!
Said I,
Asher: Thing of evil!! P- Prophet still... If bird or devil!
Crescent Crow: *Caw*
[Asher looks down at the Bible and lifts up the cover, opening it up a few pages in. The paper looks worn and damaged, it looks centuries old and seems like it was burnt, drowned, dried, somehow poisoned, cut in half then sewn back together, and drowned while simultaneously being on fire. The page Asher flipped to has lines and lines of writing from some incomprehensible language along with plenty of odd symbols.]
Asher: By that Heaven that bends above us!-By that God we both adore!-
[He flips a few pages into the Bible. The incomprehensible language form before covers the entirety of the left page. On the right page, there seems to be a sketch of a large tree with a man and a woman standing beneath it. Wrapped around the trunk of the tree appears to be a snake that seems to be holding an apple with its tail.]
Asher: Tell this s- Soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn!
[He flips a few more pages in. This page only has a little of the incomprehensible language on the left page. Most of the left page and the entirety of the right page have a large sketch on them. The sketch consists of four beings on horseback. From left to right the beings wield a scythe, a pair of balances, a great sword, and a bow. The horses seem to be trampling over corpses beneath them with an unending amount of flames behind them. The word, "Revelation 6:1-8" is written above the sketch in large bold writing.]
Asher: It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name ❍︎⍓︎ ♐︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎♋︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎◆︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎●︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎⧫︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎︎-
[He flips even more pages into the Bible to another page. The left side of the page is once again filled with the previous incomprehensible language with another sketch on the right side. The sketch looks to be of some sort of doorway with an odd engraving on it. The bottom of the door appears to be an abundance of flames on it which seem to climb up the side of the door itself. Clawed hands are reaching out of the flames attempting to escape them with a few screaming heads attempting to escape as well. Beyond all the flames appears to be two gigantic figures with their hands towards the center of the door, seemingly holding the door shut. The figures both have skeletal expressions on their faces and are wearing torn ragged cloaks with chains wrapped around them.]
Asher: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angel's name ♑︎︎︎□︎︎︎♓︎︎︎■︎︎︎♑︎︎︎ ♓︎︎︎■︎︎︎⬧︎︎︎♋︎︎︎■︎︎︎♏︎︎︎!
[The Crescent Crow stares directly at Asher. Deep within his soul.]
Quoth the Crow,
Crescent Crow: ("Nevermore.")
[Asher stands up, still holding the Bible in his hands. His breathing turns erratic as his voice increases.]
Asher: Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!
I shrieked, upstarting-
[He takes a few steps forward. He then looks back down at the Bible and flips a few more pages in. The page he turns to is rather odd. The entirety of the left and right pages are completely colored black from the erratic odd sketching on them. The little bit that isn't completely black on the page is a few odd symbols, some more of that incomprehensible writing, and a cloaked figure in the middle holding their arms out beside them. The cloaked figure has a pair of sharp pointed horns coming out of the front of their head and a third eye in the center of their forehead.]
Asher: Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
[His voice booms throughout the room.]
Asher: Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
[He flips even further into the Bible, almost reaching the end. The page has a tiny bit of that incomprehensible writing on the bottom left page. Like the previous pages, there is a sketch that covers most of the left and right pages. This time the sketch is of a flaming bird, spreading its wings across both pages in glory. There is a Christian cross harshly scratched into the birds, it has a crest of feathers on its head and a halo of light behind it shining like the sun.]
Asher: Leave my loneliness unbroken!-Quit the bust above my door!
[He flips into the Bible again, this time to the very last pages. The two pages have no writing on them, just an unfinished sketch. The sketch depicts what appears to be cracks in the sky with rays of light bursting out from them. Beneath the rays of light and cracks in the sky is the unfinished part. It's impossible to tell what was supposed to be drawn here. Between the cracks in the sky and the unfinished sketch below it rests the words, "The Truth" with nothing else around it. Asher continues to speak to the Crow, now yelling at it.]
Asher: (Yelling) Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
[The two stare at each other. Asher seems to be shaking, both from the cold and fear.]
Quoth the Crow,
Crescent Crow: ("Nevermore.")
[The Bible falls out of Asher's hands and onto the floor. The sound of the hardcover impacting against the wood breaks the horrifying silence in the room. Asher continues to shake.]
And the Crow, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
[He falls to his knees, frozen in fear, and defeated.]
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
[He then falls to his arms, tears beginning to form around his eyes.]
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
[With an angered and horrified expression on his face, he closes his right eye as tears begin to flow out of them. While his right eye may be closed he still cries, clear water tears from his left and a dark red stream of tears from his right. He seems to try to open his right eye to see, but can't appear to open his eye. Or bring himself to look.]
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
[He then slams his head directly against the floor.]
*Crack*
[As his head impacts against the wooden floor, a loud crack can be heard throughout the room. Asher's left horn seems to crack in half, causing some pieces to crumble off onto the floor.]
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor;
[The fireplace behind Asher continues to burn as he breaks down. The fire grows, now reaching out of its home and into the room around it. It climbs the ceiling and the walls beside it as it consumes the room around it uncontained. Then the fire begins to stretch out, like a pair of wings. Growing brighter and more rampant. Quickly the fire grows, igniting the entirety of the room behind Asher, coating him in a bright slightly comforting light.]
Shall be lifted...
Nevermore...
"I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity."
- Edgar Allan Poe