The novel is the delivery of a sometimes lucid but often mad physicist recounting the events that led to his admittance into an institution. The story is conveyed in the florid style of the early nineteenth century, leaving the time period and setting ambiguous and surrealistic. Vivid and suggestive devices are used to explore the middle ground between the known and the supernatural.
“We begin to understand only the things we believe to be relevant to us. In exchange, we disregard all else. This is why I fear the darkness because it allows me to experience what I know all too well is behind this thin gossamer veil. This is why for most when we hear the ringing in complete silence, we sometimes discern the other aspects of the reality it contains. This is why at times, we hear sounds altogether unfamiliar yet possessing an undeniable presence. Sound and touch are senses we little understand or explore, and for this reason, the merciful filters we develop in childhood are not as verbose as with our sight.” SULI Daniel Johnson – The Horror Beneath Reality
The main character, whose name is not revealed, has suffered an injury in a particle accelerator that altered him fundamentally. This begins a series of changes within him, including dreams, inexplicable episodes of time displacement, and traditional hauntings. Throughout all of his challenges, he is compelled to a meeting in a century’s old underground city with terrible beings that defy description. Underneath the horror and the unknown is the conflict between the pragmatic and the spiritual aspects of mankind.
Description
Have you ever considered why sometimes we hear things that we believe are not there or feel spectral sensations?
Having had several months to reflect upon what has hitherto transpired, I now question if the recollection of my previous life has been nothing more than an elaborate dream or deception. As I reflect upon those days before my journey, I receive inclinations of my life being nothing more than a veneer mercifully concealing the larger and more disquieting reality beneath.
I used to question my memories of those events and, at times, speculated on my mental stability. However, such a volume of interactive experiences has assailed me during my journey, and after, that in applying basic laws of scientific inquiry, I must conclude their validity. Having developed the insight I now have, I am as like the person who has been hypnotized to remember a crucial forgotten memory. Upon remembering and possessing the new insight, I find myself wondering if I have always possessed it and, through the interactions of life, had merely forgotten it. To be certain, this was not the only time I have gained insight into the larger reality around us, having had glimpses at times as I grew from child to adult.
For you see, perception is an odd thing. All of our perceived reality comes to us through our senses, and these are filtered further by our mental interpretation of that sensory input. From the moment of our birth, we have shaped our perception to select from the Kaleidoscope of colors only those that are perceived as useful to us. Who is to say that much has been ignored. In the same way that we can distinguish the conversation of a good friend from the din surrounding us in a crowded cafe, we pick out only what we want. It is not that the rest of the room is not there, but rather we have taught ourselves to ignore it. This is why we sometimes hear things that we believe are not there or feel spectral sensations.
Most of our perceived reality and the very foundation of logical thinking comes from our primary sense. Perception breaks reality down into a convenient set of objects, each with its own properties. As we develop intellect and sophistication, a bargain is struck. We begin to understand only the things we believe to be relevant to us. In exchange, we disregard all else. This is why I fear the darkness because it allows me to experience what I know all too well is behind this thin gossamer veil. This is why for most, when we hear the ringing in complete silence, we sometimes discern the other aspects of the reality it contains. This is why at times, we hear sounds altogether unfamiliar yet possessing an undeniable presence. Sound and touch are senses we little understand or explore, and for this reason, the merciful filters we develop in childhood are not as verbose as with our sight.
Yes, we fear the darkness for what it reveals, yet we should just as easily fear the light for what it conceals. Just as shutting our eyes will avail us little against the impending doom of an approaching bullet, our blissful unwariness of other forces that surround us will protect us not. At times in the light, I am aware of the terrible beasts that ravage unknown aspects of our being. These aspects are in every way just as essential as the corporal element which defines and sustain us. I am keenly aware of the crustacean-type beings continually permeating and corrupting my body, causing distortion and infestations, yet I am completely powerless to prevent their ravages. At unexpected times when I am not preoccupied with things I believe to be understood, I can feel other ravages as cold currents of air upon my flesh or an irrational presence standing next to me. These are mere nuisances, however, and it is the more terrible beings beyond them that fill my waking moments with terror and find me hoping for the sanctuary of insanity to procure some temporary relief. These terrible and decisive beings have now become my constant companion, and I am ever aware of their continued progress toward me. They seek to coerce me and manipulate me, and it is only with the utmost and continued presence of mind that I am able to resist their attempts at manipulation. As incessant and exhausting as these are, my impossible resolve is ever steadied by the understanding of what will follow if I should give into their ministrations. For you see, I have touched their very spirit, and they mine. I am the door, the barrier that keeps them from overwhelming this sheltered reality we all live in. I am the beacon that guides them here as certain as the flicker of a distant lighthouse shrouded in the fog welcomes a stricken vessel. This is my story and the story of us all. It is the story of how I came to understand why we all fear the night and have developed false security in the light.
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