Idimmu: An Ancient Evil by David Mayo

Release date: May 18, 2019

Subgenre: Occult horror

About Idimmu: An Ancient Evil:

 

Since ancient Sumer it has been imprisoned. It was never meant to escape.

Former Vatican archivist Gwendolyn Myers knew of the legend, but she never expected to discover the truth. The elderly scholar's curiosity proved fateful.

Gwendolyn’s niece, Anjanette, works as a nurse in Houston where she begins to notice similarities in horrifically injured ER arrivals. After Anjanette and her boyfriend move into her aunt’s house, the horrors follow them home and begin spreading throughout the neighborhood and beyond.

There is something of indescribable evil starving for blood and terror. A seemingly unstoppable evil has been unleashed that a small group, led by Anjanette, must desperately try to confront.

 

Excerpt:

 

There was now a real purpose in the undulating mass.  It had detached itself from the corner and was rising and bubbling into being.  With a force that felt like a gelid wind in her face, the tumorous blob exuded malevolence.  It was the stench of a thousand rotting corpses basted with feces and marinated in old clotted blood.  It was all she expected.  Gulping for air, she finally managed to pull the drawer half out as it stuck.  Her heart was racing in her chest and her terror had turned to utter black panic as she glimpsed the thing approaching her.  It did not float so much as it slithered like some giant viscous slug.  Then, she heard it speak and it spoke her name.  Knowing she was too late, realizing that had she only finished her journal fifteen minutes earlier, she would have made it.  Nonetheless, she thrust her hand into the half open drawer, peeling a layer of skin back on her wrist and groped for the medicine bottle that lay inside.  She retrieved it and was shaking so badly she fumbled the bottle and dropped it on the desk, pills scattering and dropping to the floor.

A black nodule rose from the top of the gelatinous entity and whispered thick and wet, Eli Baltuti Ima''Idu Mitut.  Even in her fear, she understood it.  “The dead shall surpass the living.”

She was crying, staring down at the missed opportunity to cheat it, to deny it what it desired.  It towered over her and she gagged from the stench.  It was too much, and she vomited across the desk, coating the pills and sending smoky floaters across her corneas.  The corruptive demon folded in and upon itself, reforming and growing.  Black gases, like methane bubbling from a stagnate lake, shot out here and there and the sooty appendages solidified and coalesced around the thing.

She pushed the rolling chair back to gain a few more feet of life and, with her last defiant breath, screamed at the abhorrence, “NO.  YOU CAN’T HAVE ME!”  Her stomach suddenly cramped in fiery pain and with wide eyes she looked down and saw a jet-black tentacle imbedded in her gut, deep red blood effervescing out around the rim.  The smell deepened as she realized that her bowels had emptied.  She grabbed the appendage and grimaced in pain as she tried to pull it loose.  A tremendous stab of agony shot up her back and she knew that it had completely penetrated her and had latched on to her spine.  She tasted blood.  Oblivion crept ever closer.  Each breath became a tortured effort and each exhale was wet, red spittle flying into the air.  Her chair rolled slowly toward the unholy creature as the tendril shortened and reabsorbed into the host.  Gwendolyn’s arms dropped to the sides of the creeping chair as she accepted her fate.  The glutinous mass produced more obsidian branches that wrapped around her shoulders, legs and head.  She had one last thought and she uttered one final plea to a god she had forgotten.  “Forgive me.”  Then she was gone and the corner, and the darkness within, reclaimed the horrid thing.

 

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About David Mayo:

 David Mayo was born in February of 1950 in Houston, Texas. His earliest career was what was known as Data Processing back then. Accounting machines, collators, teletypes. etc. Within 20 years he was supporting IT customers and began a new career of Technical Writing. That led to a long stint in the medical industry.
Mr. Mayo has always been a long-hair and once posed for a painting of Jesus Christ for a Methodist Church, an unusual experience. He has published poetry and dabbled in screenplays. He has authored a lot of manuals, handbooks and even speeches.
He is a voracious reader and enjoys playing acoustic guitar. For a time in the 1990s, he was the editor of a globally well-received UFO monthly newsletter. He lives in Eastern Texas with his wife and for a time, two beautiful loving dogs. They crossed the rainbow bridge and he misses them deeply.
All of Mr. Mayo's book covers are designed by Prometheus Productions.

 

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