A Night At The Aquarium

“What’s the point of this big ol’ aquarium if you ain’t got no fishes?” Sigmund asked as he swept a hand through his long, dark hair, brushing it back under his cap. He was an imposing man with dark features and rather broad-set shoulders, which had made him exceptionally good at what he did. He had been known as a thief, strongman, and a bruiser but Sigmund's favorite self-proclaimed title was muscle for hire. He wore simple clothes, a dark sweater, and darker pants.

“Fish,” Gowan replied as he focused on the one hand that was working his etching tool in the moonlight. Great sweeping lines formed a stylized series of interwoven patterns into a circle of sorts that stretched out around him. Where Gowan’s hand now steadily moved was the spot at which the pattern remained unfinished on the floor. His free hand was tucked into his jacket gripping the spine of a book he had only just come to possess in the preceding days.

Nearly the antithesis of the larger and more imposing Sigmund, Gowan was a professor at the local university who specialized in ancient and occult rituals. He was thin and short with a head of finely combed light brown hair. He wore a patterned pair of slacks with a buttoned-up shirt under his jacket. His argyle socks peeked out just under his pants before disappearing into his fine leather shoes and his glasses hung precariously as he was hunched over the floor carving his symbols.

“Yeah,” Sigmund said as he turned to look down at the hunched-over Gowan. “I know, ain’t no fishes here.” He only gave a passing glance to the scholar that hired him before turning to look back at the aquarium water tanks.

In the center of the old city aquarium, where the two men were, stood the faces of the four largest fish tanks. They were positioned equally around a central room and were once home to a variety of species that guests traveled from all around to see. Overhead, where the light of the full moon shone through, was a glass ceiling. Under the light of the moon, the water beyond the acrylic tank barriers almost seemed to stretch far beyond the concrete walls of the building. The local elections had been rather unfortunate for the aquarium, otherwise, it might still be open. A regime change in the city government resulted in the aquarium becoming a fiscal burden for the taxpayers and was promptly closed nearly five years ago.

“No, it's fish. The plural for fish is still fish, not ‘fishes.’ You don’t need to add the ‘es’ at the end,” Gowan said as he shook the tool he had used to mark the lines in the pattern on the old aquarium floor at Sigmund. He inspected his work, gave it an approving nod accompanied by a slight grin, and then moved to one of the large tank faces. “Fish can mean one or many, such as, ‘look at that fish,’ or, ‘look at those fish.’”

“Come on now. You’re pulling my leg. Fishes is multiple fish. This aquarium would hold fishes, not just one fish.”

“I had hoped my explanation was clear: apparently not. You are mistaken. It is fish not fishes,” Gowan said as he began to etch a fresh line onto the acrylic surface of one of the four large aquarium tanks.

“No!” Sigmund said indignantly. “Come now, there’s dogses, catses, and fishes.”

“And there are idiots, morons, and fools,” Gowan said as he paused his work to disapprovingly glare over his shoulder at Sigmund. “Seriously, do you have to work at being all three or does it just come naturally?”

“Oi, if you weren’t paying me, I’d lay you out flat right here.”

“Good thing I am paying you then, and quite well I might add. But I suppose that is why I hired you in the first place. Your predilection to violence suits you for this particular role.” Gowan turned back to his work and carefully etched in more lines to form a pattern on the acrylic surface. This pattern was slightly different than the one on the floor, less fluid with a central swirling focus.

“Why is that?” Sigmund asked as he eyed the shape of the new symbol that was unfolding.

“Well, I would not want to drag someone innocent into this little endeavor, would I?”

“I suppose not. Why did we have to break in here anyway?”

“I needed the water in these tanks for a specific ritual.”

“What do you mean?” Sigmund asked.

“A summoning of sorts,” Gowan said as he moved to the center of the next tank and began etching another symbol.

“I don’t know about this then,” Sigmund said as he looked worriedly from the symbol on the floor to the one etched on the tank face. “I seen things like this in movies– heard ‘bout ‘em too.” A small drip of superstition-fueled fear wetted Sigmund’s words. “Like, summoning something from hell?” Sigmund asked in a near whisper.

“Not exactly. But I suppose to some, hell can be a landscape of seas that stretch on with unimaginable entities within their depths.”

“No, it's filled with fire, all hot and such, with… you know... the big red guy and them demons. I know it may seem like I lack any kind of faiths, but I believe in a higher power. I also believe in the enemy of that higher power and I don’t want to be all mixed up with it.”

Gowan did not respond and moved quietly to the third tank’s surface to begin etching in another symbol. The symbols on the tank were smaller and took less time than the floor had taken.

“Well?” Sigmund asked.

“Well, what?” Gowan replied.

“Is you summoning something from hell? Is that why you need all these water tanks for, to douse the hell flames?”

“No, I am not summoning anything from hell,” Gowan said firmly. “Not by your definition anyway.”

“You’re shittin’ me. What’s that supposed to mean?” Sigmund asked.

“It means that there might be more than one dimension where things are not as…” Gowan trailed off ad he lifted his tool from the etching on the tank’s surface. Considering his explanation carefully, not wanting to give too much away and not wanting to upset his employee, Gowan continued. “Other dimensions are not as blessed– that's a good way of putting it.”

“Well, I don’t believe in this kind of craft, seems rather dodgy if you ask me.”

“I did not ask you. In fact, I hired you to…” Gowan paused again and set his tool back to the current etching. “I did not hire you to talk at least, so be quiet and let me finish.” Sigmund glared and crossed his arms, but he did not say another word. He turned away from Gowan and began to pace at a distance.

Gowan finished his third symbol and moved to the final tank to begin etching on it. When he was done, he stepped back and lifted a hand to his chin as he inspected his work once again, looking from one tank to the next and then to the floor. He seemed to be drawing invisible lines with his eyes, confirming the angles, intersections, and symmetry that occurred in the unseen connections between the various symbols. Then he gave a nod.

“Well,” Gowan said breaking the silence. “What do you think?”

“Me?” Sigmund asked as he stopped pacing.

“Who else?”

“Well, I was thinking, you hadn’t hired me for my opinions neither.”

“Are you upset because I asked you to be quiet? Come off it, tell me what you think.”

“They look interesting,” Sigmund said reluctantly as he circled the main space eyeing each symbol meticulously. “I wouldn’t know what they mean though, so I think it's up to you to decide whether they are good or not.” Sigmund walked to the large center symbol on the floor, the one that had taken the longest. “What are they for?”

“They have various uses, but ultimately, they are a summoning circle,” Gowan turned away to look more closely at the nearest etched symbol on the acrylic tank surface. “I think they are good, but you can never be too careful.”

“So, what is it you want to summon then?” Sigmund asked as he lifted a finger from the edge of the center symbol.

“As you so astutely observed earlier, we are in an empty aquarium.”

“Right, with no fish…es,” Sigmund said as he stared hard at the scholarly man before him as if daring the man to correct him once more.

“Fine, fishes it is. Anyway,” Gowan continued as he turned to look at Sigmund. “We are going to summon something from a realm of depths and waters.”

“Ah, shit,” Sigmund said with a widening grin, “You try’n to summon some sort of pet? Can they talk? They grant wishes?”

“I suppose, depending on what your wish is, you could consider them wish makers,” Gowan said as a smirk twisted onto his lips.

“And you promise they ain’t demons?”

“No. No Demons– more like…” Gowan turned to inspect the symbol nearest him. “Ancient ones,” he said, continuing. “Things that our ancestors may have encountered and worshipped.”

“What now then?”

“Let us get into place,” Gowan said with a smile. He moved himself to the center of the main symbol on the floor. Carefully, he stepped between the lines, so as not to disrupt any, and took a spot in the center of the open area.

“Where do I go?” Sigmund asked.

“Right there should be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” Gowan said, the smile still broadly displayed on his face. “Now, I will need quiet as I activate the symbols.”

“Sure thing boss,” Sigmund said. He too was beginning to smile.

Gowan produced a small hunk of metal from his pocket and began to hum. Slowly, he turned and dipped, moving the hunk of metal in its own pattern through the air. His humming grew to a loud howl and he produced a piece of paper from his jacket and began chanting in rhythmic, breathy tones.

“Pahar, Idib, Cabak, Kan,” Gowan paused as if his breath had been knocked away for a moment. The air shimmered and a slight flux washed over the two men. Sigmund looked around the room as Gowan caught his breath and continued. “MANHARA, YARINA.” The aquarium shook and the disconnected power somehow flickered on setting off a pattern of flickering and bursting lights.

“Maybe we should stop,” Sigmund said.

Gowan glanced up at him with a determined look and then looked back to the paper in his own hand. “SALA.” Gowan’s word carried, his booming voice lifting and falling, twisting and warping through the air. “TEMEN.” It felt like there were slashes and spirals of biting cold and insufferable heat that washed over the two men.

“AHHH!” Sigmund yelped as he jumped forward rubbing at his buttocks and looking wildly about for what had got him.

“OMUN!” Gowan shouted as he continued, ignoring the other man’s outburst. “RIAZA!” Both of the men saw flashes of something, briefly peering into a reality that was not their own. The wavelengths of two separate dimensions were converging, but Gowan knew it would not last for long.

“YALAD!” This final word of the incantation cracked off of Gowan’s lips like thunder, sending a burst of energy outward that lit the symbols he had engraved upon the once blank tank face. Like Lightning, fractures of reality began to arc up and around. As they shot outward, the carved symbols illuminated brighter and an invisible barrier redirected them back.

“THE SYMBOLS,” Gowan shouted as he pointed to an arc of energy that darted up towards the invisible barrier only to be directed into one of the four aquarium tanks. “THEY ARE WORKING! THE OPENING SHOULD BE CONTAINED.”

“Yes,” Sigmund replied. “As long as the central rune formation remains intact with its wielders symbol and the name of the binding blood sacrifice.”

Gowan heard Sigmund and nodded, agreeing with the man, but then he paused. Had he explained that to Sigmund earlier? He wondered. His eyes glanced downwards towards a part of the central carving where he stood, then his eyes grew wide.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“What do you mean,” Sigmund asked calmly.

Gowan blinked and looked twice at his employee, the bumbling fool who had helped him break the locks off of the gate. The same bumbling fool that was supposed to be the binding blood sacrificed to connect the entities to this reality permanently. But, somehow, Sigmund looked different. There was something in the way he held himself that, if you had not known it was him might have made you think that an entirely different person was there.

“Professor,” Sigmund said calmly. “You meddle in affairs you know nothing about, but I feel we have something to offer one another.”

“What?”

“I am offering you a lesson and you have offered me a doorway. It is a fair trade I think.”

“Why did you-

“WHY DID I DO WHAT?” Sigmund snapped. “Why did I remove my name from the blood sacrifice, or, perhaps you were wondering why I replaced it with your name? You were right, you did not want to bring anyone innocent into this, and neither did I. As I see it, anyone willing to sacrifice the life of another is not innocent. I have been searching for this doorway for 137 thousand years, and to think, you had it handed to you only to bring it to me.”

“Please, we can-” Gowan’s arm ripped backward tearing off toward one of the tanks. He let out a blood-curdling scream and almost collapsed, but something unseen held him on his feet.

“What was that?” What can we do?” Sigmund asked, a sharp smile pressing his checks upwards. He glanced towards the tank where Gowan’s arm had been taken. The symbol on it was blazing and the arm disintegrated into a mist of crimson in the waters rushing forward to coat something that was not yet there. The blood took shape around a great unseen twist of tentacles. “Wow, you really did it, you found them.”

“Help… me…” Gowan sputtered, blood spraying from his lips.

“Help you do what? Break into an aquarium? Maybe I will take you up on the offer. You do promise to pay pretty well after all. Of course, it might be hard for me to collect after this, considering you never meant to pay the old bumbling idiot you thought you had hired in the first place.”

Gowan's legs were wrenched from his body each flying to an opposite tank of water. They hit the surface breaking into a red mist just like his arm. His torso floated, unnaturally, over the central symbol as it convulsed with energy. His wounds did not drip, and his face was twisted in a horror of pain. Something about the energy that held Gowan kept him from the sweet release of death.

“I will give you another gift,” Sigmund whispered to the broken man before him. “I am that which has existed before your kind took its first breath. I am of the ancients you spoke of summoning, cursed to hide among the mortal forms of this world. We are the Old Gods.”

Gowan took a sharp breath, but it was hard to tell whether it was a breath of pain or surprise. Then what remained of his body flew forward and burst into the final tank. The cloud of crimson formed and revealed a great arm reaching forward with a massive hand. Sigmund stepped forward, taking his place at the center of the pulsing symbol on the floor.

“Welcome back, brothers and sisters,” Sigmund said.