Wow, this is my third upload in the space of days. I'm on a roll here! Well anyway, I've been reading H.P. Lovecraft lately and well... I felt like writing a story. So here is my second Invader Zim story, written in the spirit of the great horror writer.

The dwelling is simple and squalid minus the care of the female half, tragically lost when I could not yet recall her. Yet it has serve my and my sister's purposes now well into our teens. Of how it has served my father I know not as his actions and thought elude me even today. On occasion he can be seen coming out of his basement laboratory only to return back underground or quickly excuse himself for work. Growing up both myself and my younger sister have suffered a sincere lack of parental care. In truth, how the two of us even got passed one is a mystery to me.

I sat awkwardly poking the throbbing mass on my plate before I then, so much as my father, excused myself from my seat and hurried from the silent terror of that meal. Exiting the building I saw that night had once more exerted its hold upon the world and gazed dimly up at the sky, wishing I could glimpse the stars. With no other purpose currently on hand I made my way through the dimly lit city streets, passed unnaturally colored vehicles with drivers of a matching pattern and similar thought process. Each further human I passed by made me question my motives in wanting to save this species beyond the simple fact that I was one of them myself. My thoughts were cut short when I reached the terrible dwelling though and all thoughts about going back or not caring were fled, replaced with a firm conviction and intense desire to see my hated adversary slain. Such as it was my adversary was proportionately stronger than myself and, though I was loathe to admit it, far more knowledgeable in subjects of math and science. My one advantage over him had always been his surprising success with failure. I reached his dwelling.

With as much silence as I could muster I made my way closer to the entrance of his hideously misshapen home. The sides of the dwelling extended upwards but also out at angles clearly not normal, or even possible. Teal colored walls clashed in chaotic discourse with the violet door and roofing. Eerie neon lighting flashed from the equally disturbing windows at sporadic moments. Most shocking by far are the immense cables projecting from the sides of the building and forcing themselves into the adjoining houses, continually sucking the power and life from the cursed city and its inhabitants.

Now in front of the entrance I raised my fist towards the handle, my hand shaking with anticipation, but before I could force the door open myself my adversary's living machination did so for me. It smiled grandly at me, as if pleased with itself and shrieked something completely incomprehensible to one such as I, with my limited knowledge in the elder languages.

With a sudden, machine-like jerk, the mockery of living made its way back to its seat and resumed its absorption of my race's culture and knowledge. I would have challenged it but I had not come to confront, or even come in contact with it, and I had significant doubts I could ever beat if even at its weakest. My goal was simply my adversary whom usually ascetics himself in the lowest floor of his residence. To gain access to this floor I had choice of a number of options: a toilet secreted in the back of the kitchen, of why it is in the kitchen I'm not certain, or a trash can boldly placed against the wall at a direct run from my current position in the doorframe. I'm certain there are other entrances as well however I have yet to find any or to find any great reason to search when the trash can is so very convenient.

I couldn't hesitate or I might attract the attention of the machination so before it could remember I was there I ran across the hard floor and threw myself into the deceiving can. Timelessly I fell down the cold shaft. The space around me was dotted with what seemed like stars, flying passed at infinity. I knew them to be lights but the knowledge of this didn't take any away from the effect. Finally the tunnel opened into a dimly lit cavernous room. The walls were high enough that I couldn't make out the ceiling in the little light I had and the far wall was nothing more than a faint dark outline. A shrill, well known to me, voice echoed through the room. It mocked me and my coming and said that all this was planned.

I couldn't help but express my doubt in my Adversary but he seemed, though I could not see him, unperturbed. In contrast he seems rather to enjoy my response as he continued further into a rather longish rant that ended extremely off-topic. Finally he left his shadows and approached me.

Normally my adversary appeared quite harmless, odd certainly, but harmless. That day though, his black eyes and the encompassing shadow that seemed to surround him made me genuinely frightened. His green skin reflected harshly with the soft light and his skin displayed proudly each and every bone and vein on his body. His normally thin form appeared even more emaciated and he looked to have not eaten in days. The dark eyes smiled at me. 'The Tall Ones are coming,' he laughed at me, 'You're too late. I've awoken them already and they're hungry. The Tall Ones are always hungry. You're pitiful race is doomed.' I shivered and collapsed against the hard metal wall. His laughter echoed throughout the chamber and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't block it out. The laughter, his laughter, still rings in my ears even now.

I don't know how long it is before the Tall Ones are here but I know it isn't many changing of the moon before this race is dead. Goodnight, let the earth know that I, Dib , tried.

So what did you think? Feel free to leave a review or email with any suggestions or comments.

Sincerely, Jak0theshadows