Dreams of the Kadath Monolith

In the dead of night, amid silent sighs from the hidden realms of sleep, Walter Covington stood before the ancient monolith of Kadath. It was a structure that shouldn't exist, dislodged from the linear track of mankind's evolution, a paradox of architecture in its most abhorrent form. Its black surface glistened under the moonlight, etched with cryptic symbols and inscriptions unfamiliar to human eyes.

Fighting against every instinct of self-preservation, Covington pressed his palm against the monolith's gelid surface. Images seared into his mind like a cosmic blaze, galaxies spiralling, stars dying and reborn. In those astral fields, he saw entities of unthinkable geometry, beasts born in the primordial soup of creation, left to wander aimlessly among the celestial spheres.

There were cities, grand architectures tinted with otherworldly hues, alien green and nebulous purple, spiralling towers that sliced through the fabric of dimensions. Cities filled with creatures; hybrids of insects, crustaceans, and something else, something man had yet to name.

The Monolith of Kadath was their beacon, their preceding oracle. It was erected in the birthplace of these creatures, but somehow found its way to Earth, whispering the hymns of a million stars to all those who dared to listen.

The horror was not in the existence of these creatures or the alien cities they inhabited; the ultimate terror was realising that they existed alongside us, in the uncharted territories of dimensions humans were yet to comprehend.

Covington was privy to their plans now. He had seen their dreams, journeys across worlds and dimensions, monstrous invasions, and cosmic conquests. The Earth was but a tiny speck in the grand design.

The monolith had chosen him, a mortal man, to be its mouthpiece, sharing with him visions from beyond the stars, a foretaste of what was to come. In the abyss of his subconscious, Covington was shredded apart and reconstructed, modified to become their disciple.

He woke up in a cold sweat in his room, the echoes of ethereal whispers still ringing in his ears. His aged body felt rejuvenated while his mind teetered on the edge of madness. The alien inscriptions on the monolith had embedded themselves in his mind, their meaning now clear to him.

Covington was to facilitate a bridge, a portal linking Earth to those uncharted territories of reality. The instructions were scrawled on the monolith - a triumphant blueprint of humanity's impending doom.

Days turned into weeks and Covington's obsession grew perilous. He became a recluse, his social ties demolished, all in the pursuit of those cosmic designs. One day, he was found lifeless in his cramped study, surrounded by complex, alien sketches. The blueprints for doom were completed.

As dire tragic circumstances always inspire a curious successor, a young professor of astronomy stumbled upon Covington's research. Compelled by fearful curiosity, he continued Covington's misguided quest. Too late, he realized that the Kadath monolith was not merely a transmitter of the cosmic horror but a vessel for it.

Every solstice, the inscriptions on the monolith glowed ominously, the dreams of ancient, cosmic entities seeping into our reality. Swiftly, brutally, horrifiyingly, Covington's prophecy was realised, and Earth was plunged into a realm of cosmic terror, forever tormented by the dreams of the Kadath Monolith.