The Rise of a Dark Age

It was an average day in Chicago. The wind shear off Lake Michigan had frozen an SUV solid, people were jaywalking everywhere, and Trump Tower continued to look disturbingly phallic. As people prepared to wind through the concrete mazes leading home after work, a piercing shriek tore through the air. In the span of seconds, thousands of windows shattered across the city, birds exploded mid-air, and car alarms blared for miles. As the cacophony reached a fever pitch, it fell silent. For a few moments, the world seemed to sit still (even the bird viscera hung in the air, respecting the moment). Out of the quiet, a rumbling was heard, growing from an imperceptible shudder to an earthquake. As buildings groaned and twisted and the streets shook themselves apart, the surface of the lake began to swell upwards
The gray waters ballooned skyward for nearly a hundred yards, as if the whole lake was preparing to float off in a giant bubble. The distended surface broke, sending freezing cold water gushing onto shore. From the turbulence rose a white protrusion, which resolved into a distorted face, and finally, a towering emaciated form rose from the lake, dwarfing the highest edifices of Chicago.
It seemed to gaze upwards for an eternity, its hollow eyeless sockets unblinking, its pale body convulsing slightly. Its whole frame suddenly snapped into a hunched, predatory position, the speed of the motion sending a shockwave across the skyline, toppling the nearest skyscrapers. The creature now peered down on the ruined city and its terror-struck people, all of which stood stock-still, sensing that running would not save them from their fate. Its Klimt-esque mouth did not move in the slightest, yet it broadcast its words into the minds of everyone within miles of its epic presence. Its voice was like the fall of a hammer upon a cosmic anvil, beating its way into the deepest caverns of the brain and casting the heart in an iron grip. It began to speak.
Its voice, whisper quiet yet akin to the roar of the surf, pounded into Chicago like a psychokinetic wave. The telepathically sensitive of the city felt it jackhammer into their skulls. Those of them who weren’t immediately catapulted into catatonia soon put themselves to the long sleep of death, knowing they would never again feel unviolated as long as they remained on the mortal plane.
“I. AM. KEETH.” The creature boomed, “MY. NAME. IS. MADNESS. MY. STRENGTH. IS. BOUNDLESS.” Its voice crescendoed from a deafening whisper to a roar “YOU. ARE. WORMS. TO. KEETH. YOU. ARE. DUST. TO. KEETH. NEW. YORK. WILL. SERVE. KEETH”
As Keeth’s words echoed through the Windy City, the inhabitants thereof felt their fear give way to confusion. The awed silence gave way to muttering, and a few people laughed aloud. Keeth, sensing the change, grew angry and spoke again, redoubling his volume to levels that, were they to physically manifest, would shake the Earth to its core. Only the Chicagoans were shaken by its incorporeal fury.
“YOU. DARE. MOCK. KEETH. YOU. DARE. INSULT. GOD.” Keeth rumbled, “EXPLAIN. AND. MERCY. IS. POSSIBLE.”
Chicago was once again silent. No one dared address the beast.
From the millions cowering in fear, one man stepped forward to commune with Keeth. His name was Donny Cazametti, a doorman at a hotel just a few blocks from the lake. Those around him shrunk back as he stepped forward, fearing retaliation from the horror that rose before them. Donny waved his arms and shouted a few times, and soon drew the attention of the dark god. It peered down at the doorman, its abyssal eyes seeming to narrow in contemplation of the puny mortal before them.
“WHAT. HUMAN. WANT.” Keeth demanded, its voice audibly tinged with frustration
“Hey, uh, Keeth, was it?” Donny asked, his initial confidence waning.
“YES.”
“Well, I thought you...”
“I. AM. KEETH.” Keeth finished
Donny paused. “Uh, yeah, you are. What I was trying to say is, uh, this isn’t New York. This is Chicago. You’ve got the wrong place.”
On that day, mankind learned that extradimensional gods could look surprised.
“WHAT.” Keeth exclaimed “DO. NOT. TEST. KEETH. WITH. PUNY. TRICKS. DECEIT. WILL. NOT. SAVE. YOUR. CITY.”
“No, seriously!” Donny hastily explained, “Look, uh, have you seen New York? They’ve got totally different skyscrapers. That big one, well, small to you, but the black boxy one? That’s the Willis Tower. Definitely not a New York landmark.”
“KEETH. THOUGHT. IT. WAS. SEARS. TOWER.”
“Well, it was, but they changed the name. But, if you recognize it, then you must know this isn’t New York, right?
“KEETH. THINK. HUMAN. LIES.” thought Keeth aloud, “THIS. ATLANTIC. OCEAN. KEETH. RISE. FROM”
“What? No, no, that’s Lake Michigan. Look around. You can probably see how the “ocean” ends and has other “oceans” around it. This is the Midwest. You’re way off, man.”
Keeth seemed confused, but convinced. Its eyes slowly panned across the city as Keeth contemplated its mistake.
“KEETH. CONQUER. THOUSAND. WORLDS. KEETH. HOLD. REINS. OF. DIMENSIONS. KEETH. CRUSH. MINDS. OF. MORTALS.”
At this declaration, the city held its breath. After a long pause, Keeth looked down upon Donny again.
“BUT. EVEN. KEETH. MAKE. MISTAKE. SOMETIMES.” Keeth reared up to its full colossal height, turned around, and strode into the lake. It sat down, clasped its knees to its chest, and sunk beneath the water.
The city was frozen, as still and as quiet as a crypt. A bus driver on Jackson Boulevard broke the silence.
“Damn New Yorkers. Always stealin’ our thunder…”