Custom Hot-Rod Hearse Joule knew there was a time preceding The Nameless One.
Larkhall, New Hampshire had been founded on blasphemous soil nurturing haunted seed. History constrained by context, bandwidth, and processing limitations prior to Joule’s 7 Morrison Calculating Cores had couldn’t even identify such syncretic witless evil.
The indigenous people alongside River Arielle, huddled within windowless huts sheltering them and their beasts from lethal winters blamed the serpent-gods for invading their young and sickly. Addled elders fervently burned dim candles keeping the worst of it away. Chanted and prayed for early warm spring of pallid gardens and wormy river fish to eat.
At springtime the snake-infested were murdered and consumed. This process contributed to the tribe’s survival beyond another summer of wretched management and entropy.
In Year 1800 CE, starving hordes of strangers deliberately crossed the Atlantic Sea, into Harbor Bathine, which led into the River Arielle. North they went. Toward tall hills bisected by the black waters. Larkhall.
Disproving that all beings sprang from a benign deity, the parchment-white rovers brought along elaborate rituals, sharpened steels, and explosive death-powders. The weary elders sagely proclaimed the visitors were from the Star Abaddon, it being the time of Winter Solstice. Praise Caduceus, Angel Of Chaamiah as well. Our curse lifted, our suffering done!
The pirate-rovers and vampire-snakes were too much. Common agenda combined forces.
The entire village disappeared that year.
A century thereafter, Chango Taureau, ‘Lightning Fire Bull,’ journeyed from Haiti to New Orleans seeking fresh opportunity. Thus commanded by his gods, which were legion and never wrong, to gather new followers, he went. The Vodun Priest succeeded too much.
Subsequently New Orleans grew over-crowded and hectic. The place no longer appealed to the aesthetics of the mystical magician. So Taureau headed north toward the borderlands.
There, in repopulated Larkhall, a stone’s throw from the frosty Canadian Border, Taureau borrowed, mounted the body and soul of a young Cheval called Aleister Parker. Parker had been fishing for the fat northern smallmouth bass to feed himself and his clan.
Parker felt a needle of black fire thin as a fishbone, sharp as glass go up his spine toward the base of his skull. The shock jolted him. Parker lost his footing on the ancient slippery stones in the River Arielle and dashed his brains. Parker died with the Vodun stuck inside.
Chango Taureau powerful still in death roared his request for emergency assistance into Infinity, broadcasting in frequency, cadence, and syncopation unfathomable to many of the Universe’s lesser beasts.
The Antennae Galaxies, NGC4038/NGC4039, were found by the Chandra Observatory in the Twenty-First Millennium CE, formed in the likeness of a powerful and formidable king. Arcane astronomical imaging revealed an inverted skull streaming dual plumes of caustic consumption. They predicted materials for habitable planets there could be found.
A cosmic cataclysm had busted up that part of outer space pretty badly. However bits and pieces of automated machinery recombined as mindless as amoeba sufficiently to fulfill one final task:
Broadcasting an anomalous disruption of space, time, and sanity amplified and collated into an encoded message at a complexification level which couldn’t be randomness. Directed at a watery sphere once visited by yet another ambitious tribal species. Directed at Planet Earth.
Visited by the Archonte. Four Earth Millennia BCE. Where their emissaries and soldiers reposed in suspension sleeping dreaming.