These strange, ethereal, baffling, yet so vivid and genuine dreams had started to disturb my sleep a few months ago. In the beginning, I’d not paid much attention to them. After all, humans are prone to suffer from nightmares once in a while. However, I’d started to worry when similar sequences, enigmatically real and enriched with full sensory experiences, had kept occurring night after night. Moreover, the places I’d visited in these dreams were frightening and inexplicable, without any parallels to the physical world.
I’d dreamed about the place called Ganzir, the ancient Sumerian underworld. About the same time when my nightmares had started to occur, I’d gotten interested in the history and mythology of this Mesopotamian civilization. It was a peculiar coincidence, and I’d realized there must have been a cause-and-effect relationship. However, I could not recall what had come first. In my dreams, I’d floated in complete darkness, surrounded by abominable shapeless entities, touching me and whispering thoughts into my mind. On other occasions, I’d been trapped inside a container filled with a sticky substance, trying to get out, only to submerge even deeper. Horrified by these experiences, I’d visited a doctor, who’d declared me healthy, provided me with a subscription to sleeping pills, and advised me not to work too hard and schedule more vacations.
My occupation was indeed somewhat stressful. The plate on my office door at Penumbra College read “James Rafferty, Ph.D., Associate Professor, Mechanical Engineering.” Penumbra, TX was a small town west of Houston, inhabited by very proud and independent individuals characterized by solid convictions and a practical attitude to life. Penumbra College was not at the top of any rankings. Still, all the teachers considered it an honor and a duty to do our best in preparing the next generation to find their places in life and further the advancement of humanity. We were very close to each other and often sought advise and support from colleagues. I decided to share my troubles with Dr. Alberto Harris, Assistant Professor of History and an expert in Assyriology with a graduate degree from Johns Hopkins University. He had spent several years at the archaeological site of the Sumerian city of Uruk and was one of the leading authorities in the field. What had brought him to Penumbra was a mystery, and he did not like to share his background. Anyway, Alberto was a good friend, and I trusted his knowledge and advise.
We’d met for lunch at one of the local barbecue places and were waiting for our order of majestic fall-off-the-bone pork ribs and smoked sausages.
“I can’t sleep. I am troubled by upsetting dreams about Ganzir. I’ve studied the history and mythology of the Sumer, and this is likely to be the reason,” I explained.
“Well, I see how this could’ve happened. Sumer had rich mythology, and you are not the first one to fall under its spell.” Alberto pointed the finger at himself and smiled.
“Yes, but these dreams are extremely vivid. This is not real sleep. I am drained of all the energy and on the verge of complete breakdown.”
“Hmm…have you seen a doctor?”
“Yes, and this was useless.”
“Alright. How do you suggest I could help you?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps you could shed some light on the sources of my nightmares, explain what is original to Sumerian mythology and what is the construct of my inflamed imagination. Most of all, however, I just want to share what is happening to me.”
“Of course, James. I will help in any way I can.”
“Thank you, Alberto.” I described all the colorful details of my nightmares. He listened patiently, closing his eyes once in a while and moving his lips as if he was reciting something from memory. Then, when I’d finished, he asked: “What literature have you read on this topic? Archaeological records, text translations, scientific research, popular accounts, novels?”
“Well, of course, I’ve read a lot. You know me; I am a thorough scholar.”
“This is exactly what troubles me…so, what specifically?”
I named a few seminal studies in the field, including all the standard, accepted translations of the ancient Sumerian texts.
“Anything else? Knowing you, I am sure you’ve dug deeper than that.”
“I’ve found more translations on the Internet, not all of them of accepted authentic texts. There were also some….more questionable studies….linking Sumerian mythology with the later occult practices, and even to some mysterious current events.”
“This is what I was afraid of. Listen, James, this topic attracted many charlatans, pseudo-magicians, and self-proclaimed prophets over the centuries. But, unfortunately, it also attracted crooks and villains of all kinds. It is very easy to get involved with the shady characters who are after your money. They will happily sell you an allegedly millennia-old manuscript they wrote in their garage two days ago. But it is also very dangerous, as there were cases of dark cults practicing black magic and human sacrifices under the guise of following the ancient Sumerian rituals. So make sure you stay vigilant.”
“Thank you for the warning. I will be extra-cautious. I don’t think I have encountered these types yet. However, I did download a text with Kabbalistic teachings, which the author claimed had been adopted from the ancient practices of Sumerian Lagash. Unfortunately, to get to the text, I had to watch several videos containing some pseudo-black magic mumbo-jumbo and references to Satanic cults and aliens from outer space. The good news is they did not ask me to pay.” I smiled, spreading my arms.
“Very interesting…Do you remember the author of the manuscript?”
“Some medieval monk…Fra Lorenzo, a Dominican, if I am not mistaken.”
“Fra Lorenzo…how peculiar.”
“Have you heard about him?”
“Yes. Fra Lorenzo of Brescia lived in the fifteenth century. He translated multiple manuscripts from Greek dealing with Christian theology. He also translated works on magic and astrology originating from the ancient civilizations of the Middle East and appearing in medieval Europe via Arabs and Greeks.”
“So, what about this specific text describing rituals allegedly from Lagash?”
“I’ve read about it somewhere but never studied the actual work…it is considered a forgery if I remember correctly. It deals with demonology and mystical Kabbalistic practices, loosely associated with Sumerian deities and rites. I would not recommend this work if you want to learn about Sumer.”
“Got it. Was this monk famous during his time? Did anyone read his manuscripts?”
“Yes, indeed. The Church did.” Alberto chuckled. “He was found guilty of heresy and burnt at the stake. The legend says a black cloud left his body as it was engulfed in flames, thus confirming the sentence.”
“Wow, this is pretty hardcore. Okay, I will stay away from this type of literature in the future.”
“Now, you mentioned being submerged into a sticky substance in your dreams?” Alberto changed the topic.
“Yes, a horrible experience, even for a nightmare.”
“Do you see a connection to anything you’ve read about in Sumerian mythology? Melam, for example?”
“Yes, I thought about it. However, melam is supposed to be a substance covering gods and heroes, an aspect of their divinity. I doubt it was used for drowning poor dream captives….”
“Yes, you are right, but it was also an attribute of demons. Concerning humans, an effect of experiencing the melam is described by the word ni, which could be loosely interpreted as ‘fear.’ You have a very impressionable mind, James.” Alberto looked at me and smiled. “Our subconsciousness sometimes reacts to information we receive in a rather peculiar way. Hard to say how it would interpret what you’ve read about. It sounds like you’ve anchored on the ‘fear’ element of Sumerian mythology. Give yourself a break. Study something different, something light.”
“Okay, it makes sense. What about these horrific shadowy figures whispering things I cannot fathom?”
“Have you read Udug Hul texts?”
“Not that I can recall…no…although the word udug sounds vaguely familiar….”
“Udug were the class of demons, which even the Sumerian Gods were afraid of. Udug Hul means ‘evil udug.’ They possessed melam of immense strength, by the way. There are no depictions of what they were, only of what they were not: shapeless, nameless, indescribable, ever-changing.… The description of your experiences reminded me of them.”
“Did they live in Ganzir?”
“Ganzir was the palace of the underworld goddess Ereshkigal and her husband Gugulanna or, later, Nergal. You should know this if you studied Sumerian mythology. The underworld was also a proper place for all kinds of demons. Even Nergal himself was referred to as the udug in one text if I am not mistaken.”
“So, you suggest I’ve read about these demons, and now my subconsciousness is taking its revenge on me?”
“Yes, something like that.” He smiled. “Listen, I have to go. You be careful, alright? This matter is not for joking.”
“Thank you for the advise. Joking is the last thing on my mind.”
Coming back home, I suddenly remembered one of the videos I’d watched on that questionable website. Its subject was the ritual of summoning the udug, although in a more modern context. I could not recall the details. Following an urgent impulse, I reread Fra Lorenzo’s manuscript. I was curious to learn more.
Indeed, the parts of the manuscript describing the ancient Sumerian practices had multiple references to Ganzir, Nergal, the udug, and various chants of protecting from and summoning these demons. It also explained how the gods and humans had become possessed by the udug. These discoveries aroused my interest to the extreme, and I opened the Internet browser to search for the website. To my surprise, the site had disappeared. Instead of the colorful depiction of the Ten Sefirot of the Kabbalah I remembered from the previous visit, I observed a black page with a barely distinguishable shape of a grotesquely disproportionate human figure, underscored by a cuneiform text. After researching the symbols, I translated the inscription as udug from the Old Babylonian. Since there was nothing else on the page, and it did not redirect anywhere, I shrugged and decided to put an end to this new addiction of mine. I thought Alberto was right: my mind was too agitated by the topic. It was better to stop before I lost my sanity.
That night I experienced the most lucid dream about Ganzir I’d ever had during this painful period of my life. First, a whirlwind of green smoke absorbed me, the invisible force pushing me inside the vortex. Then, floating in endless rotation, I registered a gradual change in my environment. I could not explain the nature of the change, but when the vortex slowed down, and I got free, I realized I had no physical body. Everything was a pure perception, information in its rawest form. I felt indistinct entities surrounding me, bestowing impressions of gloom and despair onto my conscience. Strangely, without any normal physical sensations, I felt restrained and suffocated if one could apply such words to incorporeal existence. Somehow I knew this was the place of eternal torment, which no human language could describe. The place where the souls of men and gods were cast out by the evil udug when the demons possessed their bodies: Ganzir.
Emerging from this nightmare, I swore not to spend a minute more on the Sumerian myths. I did not understand why I had such a strong eerie reaction to the Sumer, but this was enough. It had to stop.
Notwithstanding my attempts to forget everything I’d learned about Ganzir, my nightmares continued. I was suffering from sleep deprivation resulting in irritation, flashes of anger, and an inability to focus, not to mention permanent red eyes. I could not focus on the subjects I was teaching and thought about taking a vacation somewhere on a beach, where a change of environment would cure me of my obsession. But it was not destined to happen. About a week after I’d met with Alberto Harris, he was brutally murdered a block from the College. His head was severed and was never found. Police discovered a strange tattoo in the shape of cuneiform on the back of his right hand. When I looked at the photos, I was able to identify the same symbol I’d seen on the website. Old Babylonian cuneiform for udug.
Suddenly, the situation took a macabre turn. I was certain Alberto’s curiosity had pushed him to search for Fra Lorenzo’s text I’d described to him. I did not know where Alberto had followed from there, but he’d ended up falling victim to the danger he’d warned me about. Poor Alberto, dear friend, I will never forgive myself for dragging you into my petty problems. If not for this, you’d still be alive.
I told everything I knew to the police, every minute detail, including the website’s address. The detective thanked me and promised to investigate the lead. However, I was not confident the police could find the culprits, as all the traces appeared to be cold. I did not know what to do; my head was simultaneously spinning around and threatened to split in half. I went home and spent the evening drinking whiskey alone, drowning myself in sorrow and pity. It was all my fault. Late at night, finishing the bottle, I lost myself in a drunken stupor, which was, nevertheless, disrupted by yet another nightmare. I accepted this as a punishment for Alberto’s death.
The next day brought another decisive turn. I was sitting in my office, going through the morning news on my tablet. Suddenly, an ad caught my attention: the usual Internet ad, similar to the myriad of other commercials one would see on the web pages every day. This one was from the Houston Museum of Natural Science. I looked at it and could not believe my eyes. Droplets of cold sweat covered my forehead. I stopped breathing for a moment and felt my heart ready to jump out of my chest. My fingers trembled, and I thought insanity had finally consumed my mind. I read the ad: “As part of the Sumerian archaeological exhibition, The Museum’s own Giant Screen Theatre is offering the show The Journey to Ganzir. The patrons can enjoy a complimentary movie for the next two months when they purchase a ticket to the Permanent Exhibits. A highly realistic, magical 3D show will transport you to the Sumerian underworld. Hurry up! It will only last for two months.”
I took out my handkerchief and wiped the sweat off my face. Either my nightmares became a reality, or this was the first symptom of madness. I stared at the ad, remembering all the details of my dreadful dreams. Then I heard someone knocking on the door.
This was Selene Leon, my teaching assistant. Slim and black-haired, Selene was pursuing her Ph.D. in Computational Science. Dressed up neatly, as usual, wearing a white blouse and black pants, she was the embodiment of professionalism and accuracy. With the act of the will that completely drained my mental energy, I turned the tablet off and looked up at my visitor.
“Good morning, Selene.”
“Good morning, Dr. Rafferty. I need to tell you something exciting.” She smiled and leaned forward, her eyes wide open. It was highly unusual for Selene to demonstrate any emotion and talk about her feelings, so this statement alerted me.
“Yes, what is it?”
“I saw it, Dr. Rafferty. It is truly as amazing as people say. You need to see it to believe it.”
I shook my head, still under the impression of the Internet ad. “What are you talking about?”
“Why, the HMNS show, of course. The Journey to Ganzir.”
I saw red and black fireworks in front of my eyes and felt a sudden lightness in my limbs. The sequence of events was shocking: first, Alberto’s gruesome murder; then, the show about the place of my nightmares; and finally, my TA telling me how great the show was. This could not be real. I felt the dream and reality intertwined. I decided I was asleep, and this was just another nightmare. It made me feel a little better. I reasoned since I was in a dream, let it roll. It was not my worst dream about Ganzir.
“Oh, yes. The 3D movie. What is so great about it?”
Selene’s eyes opened wide as she shouted: “Oh, you must see it! I’ve never seen anything like that. The immersion is complete. I really was in ancient Sumer, in a totally different time and place. Amazing special effects. And it is not only a 3D picture! There are sounds and vibrations and even smells. Simply unbelievable!”
Now I became fully convinced my mind was playing tricks with me as Selene never spoke with such passion. It was not her style. Relaxed, I let the dream unravel further.
“Okay, I will think about your recommendation and consider going on the weekend.”
“No, no, you must!” She said, clenching her fists.
I shrugged and changed the topic. “Is everything good with your TA sessions? Any feedback from the students?”
“Oh, yes, everything is great, Dr. Rafferty. I’ve got it covered.”
“Good to hear.”
“I am sorry, I need to hurry up.” She suddenly turned around and opened the door. “I need to be elsewhere. See you soon, Dr. Rafferty.”
“See you, Selene,” I answered, noticing something bizarre about her. Selene’s movements were a little out of place: the tight grip of her hand on the door handle, the way she turned, like a soldier on parade, the manner with which her head leaned to the right then to the left as she closed the door behind her. With pity for myself, I thought my dreams were becoming stranger and stranger. I stood up, walked to the admin’s desk, and told him I was sick and needed to go home.
For some reason, I was sure I’d wake up in my bed after I’d arrive home. That did not happen. Instead, I found a machete stuck into my front door and the inscription in red underneath: “You belong to Ganzir.” Undeterred, I took the machete out. I was tired of this nonsense.
I went into the bathroom and opened the cabinet with medical supplies. I had an idea of taking sleeping pills and finally turning myself off for some time. The cabinet was empty, however. Rubbing my eyes, I looked at the desolate shelves, trying to decide what else I could do. Suddenly, I heard a sound from my TV set. I thought I’d turned it on mechanically when I’d entered the room. I went back and listened to the broadcast by the local news station from the Museum of Natural Science, covering the Sumerian exhibition and the show The Journey to Ganzir. Losing my patience, I grabbed a lamp from my desk and launched it at the annoying TV, noting with satisfaction I caused enough destruction to shut it down.
Coming to the kitchen and finding a museum ticket on the table, I realized I had lost the capacity to be surprised. So I figured I needed to respect the rules of this nightmare if I ever wanted it to end and decided to see the damn show.
I arrived at the Museum late afternoon. It was a weekday, but the place was crowded, and there were long lines at the ticket counter. Fortunately, I brought my kitchen table discovery with me, so there was no need to wait for half an hour in line. I thought it was good to be inside of such a resourceful nightmare.
I went straight to the Theatre. The person checking the tickets at the entrance gave me shivers even in my absent-minded state. I thought I had firmly established I could not experience any more strong emotions, but the freak proved me wrong. The guy possessed a bulky shape of about three feet tall, reminding me of an inflated balloon. His mouth was enormous and half-opened, his eyes were green and round, and I did not notice him blinking even once. He was completely bald and lacked a left ear. When he extended his hand to check my ticket, I realized his fingers were disproportionally large. Shaking my head and closing my eyes in order not to observe this monstrosity, I tried to move around him.
“Welcome to Ganzir,” he said in a croaking voice, giving me 3D glasses and grabbing my right hand to punch a stamp on the back of it. When I looked at the stamped symbol, I observed with fright the cuneiform for udug. The same image the police had shown me on the photo of Alberto’s hand. I shifted my gaze to the freak. He was looking at me with his big green eyes, without expression, without blinking, his mouth curved in a bizarre smile. “Enjoy the show!” I heard behind me as I hurried forward, shutting my eyelids. When I finally entered the movie theater, I had an image of a sick, featherless crow in my eyes.
The auditorium was already packed, and people stared at the screen in anticipation. I did not care: after all, it was only a dream. I found an empty seat at the very back of the hall and prepared to be liberated from my nightmare. Somehow, in my twisted state of mind, I was certain the whole purpose of this torture was to show me the movie. With stoic indifference, I was ready to see this absurdity to the end. There was nothing else I could do.
The lights turned off, and the show started. In the beginning, it was just like any other Giant Screen movie: beautiful, three-dimensional, with special effects, transporting the audience to the digitally recreated ancient Mesopotamia. But then I noticed clouds of green smoke enveloping the auditorium. My seat started to vibrate, and I realized leather belts restrained my arms and legs. The next moment the screen disappeared, and the setting changed. It was no longer a movie theater; it was a square surrounded by four ziggurats. The freak who had greeted me at the entrance appeared in the center, with his hands raised to the sky, chanting incantations in a language unfamiliar to me. The green smoke became so dense I could not see other people anymore. I tried to scream, but my voice did not obey me. Then, suddenly, the bulky figure of the dwarf crystallized out of the green in front of me. He was holding an object in his hands. Once he approached closer, I recognized what it was and suffered a panic attack. It was Alberto’s head. The eyes looked at me with an expression of eternal sadness, as if Alberto was still alive and privy to what was happening in the auditorium.
I decided this nightmare went too far. It was time to wake up. But, unfortunately, I did not know how to do it. I had to be patient and survive until the end, I told myself. The freak sat next to me and whispered into my ear:
“This is Ganzir, where you belong. Forever. Just as your friend.” He started laughing with his disgusting croaking voice.
“Leave me alone. You are just a nightmare. You will vanish the moment I wake up.”
The dwarf kept laughing, pointing his gnarled finger at me. I glanced in the direction where he was pointing and did not detect my body. Yet, I was trapped inside the green cloud, unable to change anything. It was a bizarre feeling, constrained and asphyxiated outside of a physical body, familiar from my recent nightmare. I returned to Ganzir to suffer the tortures again.
The freak stopped laughing. I could not see him anymore, but I knew he was still there, along with many other incomprehensible entities. I heard his voice coming from somewhere near me, inside of me, encompassing me, devouring me. I knew who he was: a Sumerian demon, evil udug.
“Weak, stupid human! Eternal enslavement awaits you.” The voice grunted inside of me, whatever I had become.
“You are just a dream and will disappear soon,” I answered through some internal faculty.
“You fool! Udug used you to open up the way through your unique ability to connect to Ganzir. The dreams were not just dreams. We will keep your mind enslaved and will use your body. See for yourself!”
The green cover around me dissipated, and I found myself back in the movie auditorium. The people were standing up and applauding. I could not understand what was happening, as I just saw them all restrained and devoured by green smoke. And then I saw myself. To be more precise, my body. It was standing and clapping with everyone else and then moved towards the exit from the theater.
“Your body belongs to us. The udug displaced every human soul who was at the show. Their minds are all trapped in Ganzir to serve the udug and convulse in eternal torments. The time of the udug has come!”
Suddenly, I felt as if the veil was lifted from my perception and reasoning. I finally had to face the truth: it was not a dream. The udug possessed my body, and my mind was doomed to endure the dreadful existence within the darkest, gloomiest abyss of Ganzir. I remembered how strange Selene had behaved. It all made sense now. She had seen the movie, and the demon had taken her body. And it all became possible because of me.
The croaking voice started to laugh again, reading my thoughts, perceiving my agony, controlling my fear. I knew there was no way out for me. Not even death would set me free from this miserable fate.
As if to illustrate I was just a toy in his hands, the abominable udug whispered a series of incomprehensible sounds, and I found myself looking through human eyes again. Was this the end of my misery? Was I awakening from my abhorrent dream? Alas, I felt how someone picked my head by the hair and turned it around. I still possessed no body. I was inside Alberto’s head.
I saw the disfigured face of the freak in front of me. His mouth was opened wide, and his tongue was sticking out. “How do you like this, frail human? Is your friend’s skull comfortable for you?” He was enjoying his triumph in his own perverse way. And then he threw the head, with my mind still trapped inside, into a green cloud, which by now had transformed into a conflagration. The head did not fall; it was in suspended animation, stuck within the flames. This caused me the greatest mental suffering and anguish I had ever experienced. When the green fire had subsided, I found myself in a boundless, dark, dreary space. I registered other captured souls wandering aimlessly within the gloom. I was now one of them, no longer residing inside of the temporary vessel my tormentor had put me in.
“Freeze with awe and fear!” A familiar croaking voice commanded as a new perceptive faculty opened up for me. I learned who all these poor souls were, the extent of their pain and misery, the suffering they had been enduring in this terrifying pit of blackness. I detected Alberto’s voice, lamenting his interest in ancient history and hid findings at Uruk. I discerned Selene’s mental wail. She could not comprehend what had happened to her and why she was trapped within this abyss. I also caught the deplorations of countless other wretched beings, including political and spiritual leaders of the world, prominent scientists, and ordinary people of various races, ages, and backgrounds.
“Do you see, worm?” My tormentor poked me. “The path you had opened is broad and smooth. The udug will dominate from now on and for eternity!”
I understood. My careless pursuits aroused by my prying curiosity had freed up the evil udug from their limbo, made them potent again, showed them the way to enslave humanity. And this time, there would be no gods to whom we could turn for help, as these were long forgotten. Perceiving the infinite void in which all the human souls would be adrift forever, I gave up all hope. It was my final return to Ganzir.
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