Categories > Books > H. P. Lovecraft


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The Unnamed One gathers his elite forces and begins his attacks on the Lovecraftian monsters.

Category: H. P. Lovecraft - Rating: R - Genres: Fantasy,Horror,Sci-fi - Warnings: [!!] [V] [?] - Published: 2020-12-29 - Updated: 2020-12-29 - 11288 words - Complete

by Roger "Cobb" Trujillo

"…an army to sever the remaining dark forces…"


_The Hidden Graveyard_

"The sleeper must awaken."

Everything is black as the whisper continues. Faint mats of light appear above, flowing like the ocean's surface. We travel further as thin light-beams pierce throughout. The beams merge, revealing a black and murky-green world, flowing and undulating among wrecked boats and absence of life. We are flowing and swimming through the cold and boding graveyard of the deep sea.

Still proceeding with breath, claustrophobia strangles our whole being amongst the massive, open basin.

The vision fades to further travels amongst mush-ridden ships. Ascending a slight dune, the wreckage opens to a small, non-euclidean pathway. At the end is an opening bordered with lain pillars. We pass into the opaque mystery.

The darkness passes into a mammoth nave, the walls slide beyond our visual periphery. We focus upward. The ceiling is a partial mix of too many structures to explain. It is somewhat barreled, yet it hardly curves before the ends. It is coffered, yet they are like swelled plates with multiple, oddly-curved sides flowing into each other. The length continues for a long time, yet there are no beams to support its structure. Aquatic colors reflect off the surface while jagged lights shake over them.

Still focused above, we sense our passing into the apse.

The shadows fade over us quickly as we enter the immense, thick darkness of a world-tunnel towards something huge, something monstrous, something… something that no one should ever witness. Sickly occupying the only area of light is "The High Priest of the Great Old Ones," "The Great Dreamer," "The Sleeper of R'lyeh." Approaching him, we dare not to continue, dare not proceed, yet the current forces us. Terror and repulsion are great, but there is another feeling beneath it. And we hold to that hidden feeling, hold tightly, for the great old one draws near.

Our heart constricts as the current lifts us up. We see his squatting legs, his gathered arms, his lapsed wings, all shadowing that monolith of a torso-flabby, gangrenous, and nauseously muculent. But we rise higher.

Its breath bubbles and groans from out of its loathsome, crawling feelers that slither about like worms among a grand cesspit of rot. Our disgust ascends to greater levels as we see the face of-


A saving grace!

The way above is broken. A force rescues us in haste.

Rushing through the dark waters, we land on the back of a large sea creature. Covered in glazing shadows is the one who leads it. (Somehow, we sense that we have been here this whole time.)

Massive and powerful, he is also noble and just. We trust him, this one we cannot name. We trust that he will not be stopped.

We hear quasi-tentacles elongate from the raft's body, dragging against the speed as we approach the metropolis.


[overhead view] The Unnamed One stands on an oval of surfaced hide, observing and statuesque. Several lanterns part among the wedging vessel while casting yellow-gold lights through slits of fiery oil.

[closeup side view] A city of vibrant lights-like a Neo-Tokyo fantasy-pass behind X's face. Though hidden from us in shadows, we vaguely see an elongated bridge and stout base. White shines glaze off the shadows, revealing only that it seems to be smiling.

[rear view] The vaguest sense of vestments ruffle and waver. Something flows out from them. Time nearly stops as two warrior scarves (possible longer than he) flow in the moonlight. They appear to be made of the same matter and design as his horns when fighting Jason, except they flow so freely in the wind.

[regular side views] The stores pass on either side of this urban river. Though the city is alive, no one is about. Where are we?


From behind, we see X and the mutant shark approach a multi-ending fork. Between two of the exits, a new tunnel rises from the wall. The entrance lowers as we continue through the metallic half-tube.

It veers and thrusts several times until it approaches a shallow port covered in grass and dirt.


Staring into a hidden wilderness-a cross between a park and a forest-we hear the plodding of stone pillars. They come closer and closer until they pass over us and set in front.

The view rises to show X standing among the grass, dirt, and trees of mostly flat ground. Looking up, he waits until a voice speaks from the night sky, a bottomless voice as strong as rushing waters yet as soft as a Spring's breeze. The source tells him, "You have one more journey before you, but you will not face it alone. Behold, I shall unite you with your favorite army."

[Reader's choice: for the remainder of this scene, apply either "War" by Dance of the Dead or "Intro" by KMFDM]

Continuing down the trail between stone walls, X encounters three coffins sitting on raised platforms. They open to reveal the three brothers, a trio of rotting soldiers. Inside the worn, torn, green combat clothes are bodies with gray-streaked hair, whitened eyes, and moist, rubbery skin. And they feel so alive.

Name: Mash

Appearance: Athletic build. Medium height. Black (and gray) hair, medium length, slicked back. Foregoes the outer shirt.

Weapon specialty: Martial arts. Combines quick, snaking, multi-strikes with elaborate kicks, aerials, and special moves.

Visual fighting display: Mash performs a series of chops, palms, and spear hands to vital areas (causing death) and limbs (causing bone trauma). Several limbs are broken and snapped while organs, spines, and passageways are destroyed. Mash finishes a final opponent from behind with a high kick through the jaw, followed be an ax kick to the neck as the opponent huddles down.

Name: Bash

Appearance: Country muscle build. Tall height. Brown (and gray) hair, medium length, curly and semi-wild. Sleeves rolled on outer shirt to reveal meaty biceps and forearms.

Weapon specialty: Blunt weapons. Uses both Escrima style and savage brawling.

Visual fighting display: Bash begins attacking opponents with Escrima sticks, batons, a staff, a war hammer, and then his personal war mallets (made of iron and bronze; the short, beefy handles fit securely in each hand). Like Mash, he attacks limbs and vital areas.


Appearance: Athletic build. Medium height. Black (and gray) hair, very long length, tied back.

Weapon specialty: Sharp weapons. Uses both Escrima style and medieval style.

Visual fighting display: Gash begins using his twin machetes mounted to his back. He continues attacking with military survival knives, a samurai sword, an ax, and throwing stars. Like his Mash and Bash, he attacks both limbs and vital areas.

The brothers follow behind X as he continues the winding path to two more coffins on the ground. They open to reveal two more of the dead: Duke and Big Ben.

Name: Duke

Appearance: Short but extremely girthy. Forgoes the outer shirt and sleeves on the under shirt. Basic, curved metal plates cover the front and outsides of his limbs. Frontal metal covering for his torso and a metal mask with a slide around the mouth for the occasional cigar.

Weapon specialty: Explosives. Often initiates battles with tactically-planned explosives but still formidable in immediate combat.

Visual fighting display: Duke waits while enemies swarm him. Planted explosives take out the first legion while his bazooka takes out the second wave. Duke lobs the remaining soldiers with dynamite, firebombs, and grenades .

Name: Big Ben

Appearance: Upper-medium build. Very tall height. Wears a helmet with chicken bones in the band.

Weapon specialty: Firearms and artillery. Small or large, overbearing or precise, close-range or long-distance, rapid fire or single shot-If it uses a bullet, he knows how to use it.

Visual fighting display: Big Ben starts firing at a crowd with an M60, then switches to handguns for the closing ambush. He takes out the retreaters with a sniper rifle.

They join with the others, following their general down the path to a gazebo. Excited about everything, they jump off walls and swing from trees while X keeps strong and steady in stride.

They come to a gazebo with a lone casket on a 5-foot platform. The army waits with eager anticipation for their original leader to awaken.

The lid busts as the soldiers give their war cry.

Name: Major "Rad" (Research and Development) Stryker

Appearance: All-purpose muscular build. Slightly above medium height. Auburn (and gray) hair, medium length, blown-back flattop with some spikes. Long and light fireproof duster. Jet pack on his back. Sleek mechanical devices on his forearms. Visor glasses reflecting a rainbow of metallic colors.

Weapon specialty: Mechanic and engineer. Specialized weapons and tools. Modifies weapons for others.

Visual fighting display: Rad stands behind a multi-tube machine, firing electricity at incoming enemies. He abandons the machine to shoot a mechanical grappling hook (like Link's hookshot, but more versatile) from a forearm device at a tree above. Metallic, trapezoidic claws fling open under his boots, allowing him to walk from under the branch to its surface. We glimpse two hidden devices as he travels. He pulls out a flamethrower and fires below.

Rad unleashes his grappling hooks, and the other soldiers grab hold. His jet pack fires as he carries them to the port. X leads the way.

The Army of the Dead: together again for another round. This is something they will never forgot as they ride J-S2 into the night with its membranous wings soaring high.

_Cthulhu Dream 1: Congregation_

The view slides down the darkened visage of the Great Old One. From its side, a pale, sickly light casts outlines of its bridge and eyes. After the long stillness, air pockets suddenly exude through its feelers.

The view goes black.

A faint dimness starts all around, and it grows into a pillared hallway, epic and triumphant. The ceiling above becomes transparent as the stars align. "(It is time!)"

The flying polyps, cthulhi, deep ones, and other minions rise and gather… to take back the world!

But there's something else, something strange. The way the stars are aligning, it's… it's…


Soldiers flood the base from the blasted wall. They fan out, destroying everything before them. The minions are crushed, braised, sliced apart, mutilated, ruptured, and… and devoured by the last following behind them. We sense it looking at us. We want to get up. We want to attack. But we can't. That thing's gaze alerts the troops to attack us. A tall, burly one with a war hammer heads the front. We can't move. Can we even breathe?

It takes it's hammer and...

Smash! Smash!-

_The Hound_


The hammer breaks through the elaborate casket. Bash stands aside while the baying of hounds distresses the quiet night. Mash and Gash stand with him. The Unnamed One approaches the coffin.

"I picked you three for this first mission. As soon as I engage, it will attack. Consider this your first trial getting back into action." X inserts his hands into the dark chasm and pulls the shell apart. There, lying in the solid box, is the hound. Within its bony arms lays the amulet. "Are you men ready?!"

"Yes, General!"

X takes the amulet and pushes it to his waist. The jade light shines over what is revealed to be a warrior's belt. It attaches to the center as the color becomes whiter and flows through the entire binding.

Belt Clasp: Level 1

"Gentlemen, we have officially entered the warzone." From this first acquirement, they have taken a key and opened the door into the Cthulhu Mythos. X feels his power increasing, just as the soldiers feel theirs. They embrace it for a moment but remain alert.

The phosphorescent sockets open as it unleashes a unnatural bay. The hound flies high, spies its enemies, and dives low.

It goes for the unarmed one, as it seems easy prey. Mash does a rising back-flip kick. The hound falls for a second before rushing on the ground. Its jaw is broken through the center.

[perspective 1]
It rushes at Mash, striking with its four legs. Mash easily skims and deflects the limbs, striking into its throat and chest and leaving sharp depressions.

[perspective 2]
Gash follows behind and severs its wings. The bladed tail whips at him, but the machetes blend with the movements, using the whipping thrusts to power their strikes.

The hound retracts from the trap with leaking ravines and a mangled tail. It rushes for the lone warrior.

[perspective 1]
Gash chops its head.

[perspective 2]
Mash stomps its ribs.

[perspective 3]
Bash strikes its lower legs.

The claws come at the woodsman. With the pole taken from the cemetery gate, Bash breaks through the digits of one paw and into the sole of the other. The pole rebounds into the former's ankle before whacking the neck.

The hound staggers onto broken limbs wearily before falling in defeat.

Before it hits the ground, something long and thick shoots from behind X, impaling the hound to the tree. The monster twitches a few seconds before it sags like a mushy corpse.

X comes forward, rips the skull off its body, and places it on his own head.

Helmet: Level 1

Both mighty and regal, Military X is rebuilding. And this time, the roots will not be so easily severed.

With every part he gains, his strength increases. And as he grows stronger, so too does his army.

In time, they will become unstoppable.

_The Colour Out of Space_

X and the brothers join the rest on J-S2. The vessel rises into the air and opens its folds. They compress shut, propelling the army many miles forward.


After traveling a great distance, the vessel comes to a stop. The folds open again and repeat the process.

"Arkham." The general turns to face his soldiers. "We're going to become very familiar with this place."

Passing the city, the zombie's wings lower as it makes a smooth landing into the country side. It continues gliding on the ground until a farmhouse appears yards away beyond the trees.

"Duke, Big Ben, this is will be your training mission. Are you ready to go back into action?"

"Yes, General!"

"Alright. Let's go."


Knock, knock, knock

Nahum and Theresa look at each other. The don't expect many visitors, especially this late at night. More curious than reticent, Nahum opens the door.

A monstrous yet securing being walks in with two followers. Nahum is conflicted about getting his gun, asking for help, or just standing there.

"It's okay…" The being opens its cloak. "I'm on your side." Nahum returns his gaze from inside the garment to the being's face. He begins to calm. Then he becomes fascinated. "Think of us as the meteor police. Tell me, have you recently encountered any unusual meteorites in your vicinity, like, say, something with colors outside the bounds of the visual spectrum or something that causes you to act strangely under normal circumstances?"

Trying but unable to speak, Nahum's mouth squirms as he nods stiffly, looking to the side. The being walks over to the window and spreads the blinds. "I knew it," he says with slight contempt. He looks over at the others. "It's him. Looks like we've gotta take him in."


Duke plants the last tube in the square radius around the broken, oozing meteorite. He steps back, taking X's right side while Big Ben occupies his left. X steps forward.

Reaching forward, he grabs the rock-metal fragments and attaches them to his back and shoulders.

Cloak Clasps: Level 1

They meld as metallic alloys around the cloak clasps, which resemble his clasps in his voyage to the red planet. Now, they have a large swell of purple in their marbled pattern. The black cloak reveals out of the shadows as it opens to consume.

The wind increases as a magnetic force draws all of the meteor's amorphous remains into the cloak. As the draw continues, his cloak revolves through a litany of royal colors. Lightning strikes (from no visible storm) onto the clasps, surging through the obscured body until electrifying what appears to be rectangular weapon attachments for a mech warrior. A section in front of them opens, revealing an aligned set of tiny, circular gauges. One of them starts blinking a light-cyan color.

Auxiliary Weapons: Electric Blaster

The last of the meteor's existence is gone, and the cloak finally reaching a regal purple-red substance.

Inner Cloak: Level 1

"It's gone now, but we must destroy its infection. Prepare your weapons." Big Ben readies his machine pistols: twin Berettas with extra-long clips. Duke lights his fire bomb; he has already covered his armor in an explosive gel.

"Are you men ready?"

"Yes, General!"

"Hit it!"

Duke steps on the pedal. Debris blows apart as the ground sinks below, leaving a grave full of infected insects. Mutated and glowing, they attack. A firebomb crashes, consuming many that didn't join the first wave.

[perspective 1]
The insects attract to the luminescent and sensitive gel, causing minor explosions on impact.

[perspective 2]
Electricity shoots through many insects into the pit.

[perspective 3]
The machine pistols maneuver in all directions with ease. Bug guts pop and fly through the air.

[perspective 1]
Duke throws another fire bomb into the pit. And another.

[perspective 2]
The shock repeats every few seconds, decimating what it hits and adding to the ground's death-pile.

[perspective 3]
The hands swim and swirl like an odd form of Tai Chi while the torso remains still.

[perspective 1]
Several bugs amass over the cleared parts of the armor. When the swarm ends, Duke raises his arm and smacks it against his chest, combusting the last in a wide burst.

[perspective 2]
Currents build through the mechanical attachments. Surging and surging, they quake until releasing a mega-joule blast. It cuts through them all and continues deep into the earth. Light particles resonate in the minute spaces.

[perspective 3]
A few insects latch onto the limbs, which Big Ben shoots them off in a nonchalant manner.

Two blue-luminescent, proto-gelatinous tentacles run over the soldiers' clothes, devouring all remains of the mutant hoard.

X removes a pouch and pours it over the open grave. It contains specialized seeds from Rad's own research. X opens his cloak, releasing a vortex of many colors. Presumably, one of them was ultraviolet.


The general reenters the house. Theresa watches silently while Nahum tries to speak, rarely managing anything that could be considered a sound.

"You don't have to thank me. He won't give you any more trouble he's been permanently…" X smiles over at his troops-"detained"-then looks back at the Gardners. "He'll have plenty of time to write that award-winning manuscript. Maybe he can have Wendy represent him on the Wink Smiley talk show. In the meantime, don't let any meteorites into your house without checking their ID, don't let them work for you without a permit, don't go chasing waterfalls, and give a message to the milk man: "No more cheese!" The Gardners don't get it, but they sense alleviation. "The main thing is, love your family and keep farming. You'll have a good harvest this year, trust me." X allows his large eyes to draw their attention, soothing and relieving their souls. After the army leaves, the family appears in full peace on the couch.

_The Music of Erich Zann_

"Do you hear it?"

"...yes, General. I hear it faintly."

"In a minute, you'll hear it loudly."


Frantic rhythms and dissonant melodies grow audible until an erratic tempest mocks against it.

"We won't let them take him. Are you ready?"

"Yes, General!"


Inside Erich Zann's darkened room, the walls and floors shake with utmost turbulence. Everything shifts around as the darkness of the window stays still. Herr Zann plays the viol with inhuman fervor and fear.

A strange luminescence fans upward through the creases, blocking the violent wind and the mocking sound. His playing slows while walking to the glass.


Aboard J-S2, X stands in the center of a command post: a fan of transference rods, each a foot in diameter. Two extras stand at his either side. Rad engages the firing heads, which uncoil to the tops.

In the black void, something like soundwaves materializes (at least for our translation). They roar and resound in the funnel towards us. The winds lash out until Rad blasts them from the command post. The manifest sound-winds keep lashing while Rad switches between the stations, electrifying each abomination. In the center, X pours an electric surge into the system.

J-S2's central mouth-the greatest of them all-opens. From X's transference rods, the garnered power flows out like a torrent, seizing the enemy at will. Its resister only shows fear as it's vacuumed into the mutant shark, through the power rods, and into X. The Unnamed One's voice opens into a depth greater than the void. Following inside, the grand cyclone becomes gilded with a waxy array of rich, vibrant colors.

Voice: Level 1

X's cavernous voice of insurmountable depth gains the most beautiful tone-colors throughout its tunnel.

Looking over, we follow X's sight to the German at the window.

"You are free now." X steps away to show the void is , X looks back at the obsolete wall blocking the building. His voice resonates cascadingly, but not painfully. The wall crumbles into tiny particles, which the winds carries away.

Gathering next to Rad, X tells him, "There is one more place we must go before our great stand in New Hampshire." X looks back at Erich Zann and smiles. Then, the warriors ride off into the night.

Erich is left thinking to himself, "(What can I tell them? Would the even believe me? What am I to make of this?)"

_Henry Armitage:Preface, Entry 2_


Doctor Henry Armitage

Head Librarian at Miskatonic University

Doctor of Letters, Johns Hopkins University

Specialty: Studies of the occult and modern-related phenomena

Dates observed in research: August 01-14, 20XX

My name is Dr. Henry Armitage, and I have spent the last 42 years of my life studying the occult, with special emphasis on the Necronomicon.

Studies of the occult, contemporary mythos, unexplained occurrences, and other fascinating phenomena have long been my hobby of study. While others validate my claims, many dismiss these stories as products of the minds of the ignorant, the delusional, the stupid, the mentally ill, and the superstitious. However, I can no longer keep my recent studies a secret and must tell the world. Many events of the supernatural, especially instances related to the Necronomicon, are unfolding at this current moment.

I have collected data that cannot be ignored nor dismissed as "selective evidence" to support a "preconceived superstition." And I posit to you today that many of those who are officially diagnosed as traumatized, drug-dependent, and mentally insane had no prior history and suddenly gained their conditions after the reported events (see: Entry # 1).

Ever since my youth, I have heard of tales from around New England. I remember the urban legend of the Martense family in New York, the dreaded black hills in Vermont, and even warnings from my own mother to "never wander into Innsmouth" for vague, shadowy reasons that dare not be spoken. The stories intrigued me as part of my youth.

My fancy did not stop there, but rather whet from more stories of strange phenomena from around the world. Often, these stories were dismissed as the hallucinations of drug treatment, war trauma, dehydration mixed with isolation, and other such rationalizations, as are common to man. I considered these dismissals a possibility, but I always wondered, "What if?"

My years in university studies only offered a greater wealth of articles, reports, and sightings. What struck me most was the wash of isolated cults the world over who had worshiped the same gods, despite several having lived in untold eons of tribal isolation. I was not yet a dedicated believer, but rather an objective observer.

After earning my Doctorate of Letters and taking the position of Head Librarian at Miskatonic University, I was privileged to study one of the most rare of ancient text: the Necronomicon.

I was aware of many documented cases of people driven mad from its readings, so I was sure to study it only in small portions and distract my mind often for recovery. I was still not a full believer, but I became convinced that its contents were more likely true than not.

Because of my position, I was privy to information that was withheld from public knowledge, such as the inexplicable semi-organic tissues and "molecular responses" of statues connected to the display of Rhan-Tegoth.

While I took note of these phenomena quite regularly, I saw and intuited that these eldritch phenomena were occurring more rapidly. In the following entries, I present to you my collected studies.

Entry 2

August 02, 20XX

Strange occurrences began on August 01, 20XX, with the following transcript from a national flight tracker in The Hague, Netherlands:

"August 01, 20XX, 22:04-22:09: An unidentified vessel was sighted by our radar. No communication equipment was available to intercept. It burst out of our radar field within minutes, moving at approximately 9500-1100 kph (6000-7000 mph). Based on its trajectory, we informed the London Flight Tracker immediately."
(Willem Bakker, South Holland Flight Tracker [translated by Dirk Jansen], report
number: 010820XX:01A)

The London Flight Tracker in England confirmed similar events, with one notable exception:

"August 01, 2001, 22:09-22:18: We received a message from the South Holland Flight Tracker about an unidentified vessel travelling at great speed. At 22:13, it appeared on our radar. We were unable to detect any equipment for communication. It quickly decreased in speed and size and stopped abruptly. Then it increased to roughly twice its mass and shot away at roughly 1200 kph, though our radar cannot give an accurate reading based on its short sighting. We informed the Boston Flight Tracker in Massachusetts immediately."
(Geoffrey Stephens, London Flight Tracker, report number 010820XX:01B)

The Boston Flight Tracker confirmed a similar sighting, though it stopped somewhere outside of Arkham and disappeared completely.
(Ronald E. Phillips, Boston Flight Tracker, report number 010820XX:01C)

The incident was dismissed, swept under the rug, but I knew there had to be something. The major newspapers contained nothing relevant for that date. However, a small article from a lesser newspaper led me to backtrack. In the Arkham Rebel, an independent publication company known to publish anything others won't, there was an article about a local farmer named Nahum Gardner, who claimed (on the night in question) that "a priest from beyond the stars" had come and rid them of a criminal meteor. (Source: "Skull" Howsen and JX-Racer, Arkham Rebel, issue 307). Though this source seems quite unreliable as evidence, it lead me to interview the Gardners (see: Entry #5), as well as to find the following article from the Littlefield Weekly (Littlefield is a suburb of Arkham), which occurred a few days before (July 30, 20XX).

"Local farmer Nahum and his family discovered a meteor in their backyard […] The meteor emits a strange color that is hard to classify. Ever since it crashed a few days ago, it has not cooled nor decreased in size."
(Rachel Wallace, Littlefield Weekly, issue 1305)

Further concerning August 01, 20XX, not much later than the report in Boston, there were reports of a strange aircraft travelling to and stopping around Paris, France. (Note: Unless it bears specific importance, all further radar tracking transcripts will simply be listed in Appendix A)

It took some digging, but there is an article about an unexplained occurrence at the Rivière Rouge Hôtel on Rue d'Auseil in Paris, France (near Sorbonne University). The hotel resides behind a large wall, which several residences had petitioned for removal. The landlord (Maurice Blandot) oft refuted that such actions were too costly and that lodging there was not mandatory. On the night of August 01, 20XX, Blandot received complaints from the tenets about absurdly loud noises outside the hotel. No visual observations were made until the surrounding wall disappeared. There was no evidence of mechanical equipment or explosives in its surroundings. There weren't even any tracks or footprints."
(source: Rivière Rouge Journal, p. D-4, 08-01-20XX)

There is one final event that presumably began on this date (though was not noted until the following day): the situation involving long-time patient Joe Slater at the New York Psychopathic Institution.

Joe Slater was officially diagnosed as "highly dangerous" and "mentally incompetent" by Dr. Kaufman.
(source: New York Psychopathic Institution, entry: JSlater0001B)

Over the next three years, Joe Slater was periodically diagnosed as "increasingly dangerous" and "increasingly mentally incompetent" by Dr. Kaufman.
(sources: New York Psychopathic Institution, entry: JSlater0010A, JSlater0020A,

Within those same reports of his violent outbursts, he spoke of a coming "blazingly cataclysmic vengeance" against "Algol, the Demon Star."

However, on the morning of August 02, 20XX, Dr. Kaufman reported the inexplicable "sudden recovery" of Joe Slater. After several hours, all tests officially diagnosed him as "non-threatening" and "mentally competent." They confirmed that he would be held under close observation for a week. If he shows no signs of regression, they will release him.
(sources: New York Psychopathic Institution, entry: JSlater0032D, JSlater0032E,

Something else happened late the night before (August 01, 20XX). Many know of the supernova, documented by several observatories worldwide. However, few know the entire report.

"On August 01, 20XX, the star known as Algol exploded in a supernova. In less than twenty-four hours, it was hardly discernible with the naked eye.

Within very short distance of the supernova, there was a series of 3 comets of a strange golden-red color launched from an indiscernible source. Within nearly 10 seconds, they faded from visibility without any trace substance."
(source: Professor Garrett P. Serviss, Arkham Observatory, August 01, 20XX)

There is another report, though missed by the masses, that occurred on the same night as the supernova. Randolph Carter was discovered missing from his home. A police investigation reported no signs of a break-in or struggle. His dinner was untouched, and his clothes were left in the washer and dryer. All of his belongings, including his car, were left behind. Strangest of all was a simple letter they found on the floor. It seemed to have been written in great haste, as it was mostly unreadable. It was transcribed as follows:

"Good[bye]. I am [going] home. [The siblings] have come for [me]."

This letter is perplexing because, as reported in the Arkham Advertiser, Randolph has no immediate family. He was always an only child.
(source: Trish Scarborough, Arkham Advertiser)

_Cthulhu Dream 2: Torn Apart_

"(Will it stop?!)"

They do not stop. Their weapons never stop. Seeing through Cthulhu's eyes, the Army of the Dead continues to mutilate a paralyzed Goliath, watching chunks and ribbons of his body dragged before him in constant rounds.

The workers move in deeper, parting the way for their commander to come forward. Walking into the grander light, the shadows unveil. Here is X, here is The Unnamed One, here… in his new form.

Feet: He bears the same multi-hooved feet from the Red Planet (goat form), except, on either side of the central section, they are complemented with the elongated blade-toes from the Blob's visions (goat-raven form). The hair and skin are replaced by the necroflesh when he first appeared in Texas-that abrasive, distilled, multi-striated necroflesh. Within his soles are the stigmata with moving bio-cables he bore while facing Jaws, Hannibal, and Jigsaw.

Vestments: Set next are his vestments, an amalgamation from other times. They resemble toughened leather, yet they are silky and flowing and grazed all about with a mystical shimmer. They also permeate, allowing the spikes full passage.

Legs: The long, grooved spikes from his gargoyle form (even grander and more robust) fan out of his calve like a porcupine peacock. The thighs of his four legs instead contain large hoses (like some kind of machine) twisting flushly around the girth to his back.

Tail: Twisted around his waist and overlapping the warrior belt is his tail. It combines the tri-blade and metallic bulbs from the goat-rave form with the fattened muscle and squatted spikes from the gargoyle form. The bulbs grow from small to great in accord with the thickness, melded between every two segments of flesh.

Arms: Two sets of arms match the pattern of the legs: spikes for the forearms and hoses for the upper arms. They also bear the primal necroflesh and the cable-laden stigmata. The upper set of hands are those of the goat form. The set below still possesses the curved, thorn-like claws on the knuckles, but the blades are those used against Jason (except much thicker).

Below them are another set of arms (if you can call them arms): the protoplasmic tentacles from the floating mass that invaded the labyrinthine Hell. Occupying the tops of the worming limbs are mechanical attachments with auxiliary weapons (and are hungry for more). The very ends are blocked compartments, while the spines are an intricate mixture of joints and swivels to conform to the tentacles' every movement.

Vestments (continued): Over his warrior belt rest the worm-appendages that resemble cinctures. Flowing over his shoulders and under his cloak are the worm-appendages that resemble an unrefined stole. Surrounding his body is his cloak. Four warrior scarves (like that of a ninja but without a neck-wrap) extend out of his back and flow breezily. These are the migrated horns from his Crystal Lake form, grown to peak size and fluidity.

Cloak: His cloak imitates the one from the goat form. The shoulder clasps still possess rotating pins, allowing the cloak to envelope him or gather behind. However, there is another sliding clasp on his back, which gathers the center to fold into itself. This allows the cloak to mutate into his wings on command.

Wings: The wings possess the X structure, insides, and shape of the gargoyle's. However, they possess the outer hardness, rims, and wing-swords from the goat-raven form. The warrior scarves form into the sharpened rims of the wings.

Body: Examining his enormous body, he is at least 10 feet tall. His muscular build is between that of the blocky goat form and the rotund goat-raven form.

Neck: Anticipating the head, we see the stout neck begin to narrow, though still incredibly girthy. The thick leather braces the necroflesh so securely, it is almost melded to it. Past the leather and halfway up the trunk, the necroflesh is split horizontally in a perfect circle. Between the two lands of flesh and far beneath their level is a golden ring, shining rich and solid. It's not quite metal. It's more like hardened light.

Head: Finally reaching the top (where the necroflesh submissively fades away) is the overwhelming site. The head is shaped like a cross between the skull of a goat and a dragon, yet there is a very thin layer over it, like some kind of centrifuged, nearly-translucent flesh. The closest (least failed) way to describe it is some kind of vitreous, pale-yellow membrane. The forehead also possesses the cable-gorged stigmata. An assortment of thinner horns curve over its scalp. It opens its mouth as mystical colors resonate from its throat like manifested music. His assortment of teeth included long canines, broad serraters, and fattened, mechanical, retracting drills.

The slope of his bridge is evenly rooted with four pairs of golden eyes. They seem to be formed of metal and have richer striations around the circumference, as if they had been grooved and then grinded-down to a perfectly smooth and rounded surface. Those golden eyes, endowing unfathomable mercy to those he protects, could bring ineffable horror and death to those on the wrong side who will not be swayed.

Cthulhu is lost in his eyes, lost in the striations as they keep running, keep turning, deeper and deeper. Deeper and deeper. Deeper and-

He sees himself lost into a storm world, a minute world of some fantasy. He passes the storm and the lava beds to green pastures. He rests for a second until the storm comes closer, calling the lava bed to rise up and swallow him.

Cthulhu jets for the mountain as fast as his legs and wings will allow. He reaches the mountain, barely taller than he is and covered in the surrounding charcoal debris. He climbs to the top above the flow, only for the lava to consciously reach and pull him in.

The lava whirls into an vortex. Cthulhu stretches and paddles, but it's all for not. The vortex takes him into a dimension below: a naked nothingness. "(Am I dead?)" He can't sense or see his own body "(Did it melt away?)," yet he feels himself pulled lower, lower. This is not a place filled with nothing. This is death for the dead. Down further, further. Darkness.

Lightning strikes below and again…

_Prototype: In the Mouth of Madness (Hobb's End)_

… revealing the clouds beneath as the logged bridge appears.

The trek continues through the dark, wooden tunnel until daylight appears jarringly. It all stops. They look over to see a sign: Hobb's End.

J-S2 relaxes into open mouths as X and the army exit from within. The mutant vessel camouflages to its surroundings.


08/02/20XX: 0900 hours

X stands triumphant, leading the way. The newly acquired shimmer to the cloak's outside flows like the inside (with a stronger purple hue).

Outer Cloak: Level 1

"We don't play by the enemies rules. We make them play by ours." Duke approaches X while carrying 2 bulging, heavy bags. He waits with anticipation for the official order. "Duke, set the battlefield. Then, meet us at the Byzantine church."

"Yes, General!"

The other troops gather around X, all carrying a cylindric bag. All the troops, except for Rad; carrying a rucksack on his back, his free arms grip the ends of a boulder-sized spool.

They proceed into town as X reviews the situation. "Remember, this town isn't real. The people here aren't real. You will not be killing civilians. We are preventing a new plague from manifesting."

During their travel, the dragged spool rolls, leaving a track that cements to the ground.


0910 hours

[ground level POV] We see several squad boots pass over us, proceeding down a long, paved hallway. Loosed leaves blow through the open windows. Then we see the metal spool pass over us, unwinding its metal track. The military enters a door at the very end. As it closes, the view jumps up and zooms toward the sign beside it: Welcome to the Pickman Hotel."

"So," Big Ben asks. "This is the Pickman Hotel."

"Indeed it is," X confirms.

Mash points to the paining. "And this must be where she hides. She'll come out of this?"

X nods. "And then the "back demon" will hang from a generic stranger's back, and you and Bash and Gash will be here when all these things come out." X refrains so Rad can further explain.

"I will deploy the three of you here. Then we will rendezvous in 5 minutes."

Bash goes to the previously described spot, testing if the loose board is where it's supposed to be.

X waits for a second, expecting something. Soon, an older lady enters the room from outside and goes behind the desk. "Hello, can I help- Oh my!"

X nods to Big Ben, who walks over to the desk.

"Hello, Mrs. Pickman."


"Goodbye, Mrs. Pickman."

X assures Gash, "Don't worry. She'll reawaken to follow the story. Then you'll have your chance."

Looking over the desk, Big Ben asks, "Why is there no husband chained on the floor?"

"We didn't follow the book. He hasn't materialized yet."

With everything set, the troops gather around X to lead the way. "Now, I'll show you what else happens when we really mess with the story."


0920 hours

" 'Originally there was a church, but the black church swallowed up the old sanctuary the way it has swallowed our minds. Now there is nothing left of what was once here except the mosaic of our Lord and savior.' " X and the squad approach the rear corner of the church. He asides, "See, this is supposed to be said towards the front." He waits for Big Ben to lay his bag against the wall and arm his auto-shotgun. Side-by-side, X and Big Ben lead the point as X continues. " 'Some believe the old sanctuary still exists somewhere trapped inside the evil edifice. Its primeval inhabitants were a murderous race of creatures who's vile existence contaminated time itself, affecting history with their sadistic wickedness.' "

Rounding the corner, the hounds wait for their cue.

Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!

Dog guts plaster the lay everywhere. "Now, listen for this." The townsmen arrive in the front, shooting their weapons in protest for Cain to release Johnny. Already, something feels very off. The church's main doors slam several times, then creaks open. This should be the time for the hounds to attack.

Complete silence.

The army's faces show a hint of uncertainty. X assures them, "It's OK to enter from the back. They aren't expecting us there. Take your bags and follow Rad. He'll show you what to do."

One at a time, he lets them break from their post to satisfy their curiosity.


0935 hours

Duke approaches the Byzantine church from the side.

"Hey, Duke's back!"

Resting on the ground, the huddle joins.

"Alright, Duke!"

"Yo, Duke!"

"Welcome back, Duke!"

Duke stops in his tracks. Rad looks to X for permission. Granted.

"You see that, don't you? Come on, I'll walk you over." That one human statue wasn't the only one. He and the other townsmen are just standing there, staring at the church's front door.

"Are they even breathing?" Duke inquires as they walk among them.

"I guess it doesn't even matter. When we start, they start."

Duke looks at the open door to see what was worth their attention.

"It wasn't the church. It was Cain, but he's gone now. We saw earlier. They were all frozen, then Cain just - zipp - disappeared. The story's all messed up now, like a broken clock. But when we set the charge, it will all come bursting back, a final rush of endorphins to keep the body alive, so to speak. And I know you brought the charge."

Duke pats the bag, producing a thunk. With restraint excitement, he answers, "Yes. Yes I did."

"Well, if you're ready, let's go back."

As they rejoin the squad, Duke unloads the remainder of his bag.

"Oh, you brought your specialty MREs?!"

"Oh course, and that's not all." Duke unpacks bottles of homemade liquor. They all take one for the passing.

X invites him: "Sit down with us. We've got time to rest and enjoy the scenery."

Lighting a fresh cigar, Duke sits and passes the case around. Full circle, he put it back in his pocket and unpacks the last of his bag, something he's been wanting to use for vintage sake: a modified box detonator.


1159 hours

"Five, four, three, two, one"


Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh!

Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Crumble! Kaboom! Crumble! Frooomhh! Frooomhh!

Frooomhh! Crash! Frooomhh! Kaboom! Boom! Frooomhh!

Kachunk! Screeaak!

Frooomhh! Boom! Frooomhh! Crash! Frooomhh!

Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Crumble! Crumble! Frooomhh! Frooomhh!

Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh! Frooomhh!

Sequentially, we see the face of each soldier, marveling as the fires and explosions reflect off their slick, rubbery skin. The view extracts to a bird's eye view. All the soldiers are standing on the square, metallic platform connected to the end of the spool's unwound track. X officiates behind platform.

"Are you men ready?!"

"Yes, General!"


The platform takes off. They espy the front of the church. The people fade away, and the door slams shut.

They examine their full perimeter. The entire town is bordered by an insurmountable conflagration from Duke's firebombs. There are only two areas clear of it, and they are sealed by extreme wreckage.

The soldiers return their attention forward with Rad leading the point. Exiting the green pastures, they enter the edge of town square. Rad commands, "Big Ben, deploy!" Big Ben jumps off the track into the crowd. He begins unloading his M60 into the mob of ax bearers. Beyond them are more people, rotting and changing in unnatural ways.

The platform takes a sharp left towards the center of town square. "Duke, deploy!" Duke, wearing a shotgun belt across his torso (loaded instead with dynamite sticks), surely and stoutly walks off the edge to the pavement.

The platform takes a sharp right, up the hill, and towards the Pickman hotel. "Mash, Bash, Gash…" breaking through the front door, "Deploy!"


The three brothers stand back-to-back as Rad rides through the back door.

That's when they come.


Out of the painting leaps the woman with the monstrous face. She attacks with clawing hands. On the first strike, Mash grabs the wrist, extends its natural course, and palms the straight elbow. The joint shatters. The woman's second hand reaches, but Mash's seeking hand hits her palm prematurely, causing her to automatically grip his wrist. Mash lays his second hand on hers, securing her grip. He twists her wrist in a vise, causing a debilitating spiral fracture. In a split second, Mash unloads a series of lightning-fast chops to the neck, crushing everything and rupturing the vessels.

She falls over like a wet blanket, revealing the back demon standing behind her.


A pudgy cop with a mutated, pustulated face rushes at him, bearing a baton. Bash performs a roof-block with an iron rod. It smashes the wrist and continues to slide as a back-strike to the face. Bash's clearing hand grabs the baton upon passing. Double-armed, he smashes the ribs, back, knee, and face, ending with a weave-strike that beats the head into plaster.

The cop's taller partner, breaks through the door.


Breaking through the desk is Mrs. Pickman, tentacles mucking from her body with an ax in hand. Reflecting Bash's style, Gash's machetes strike with weaves and economy of motion through the tentacles. The tentacles fall to the ground in segments. With only her arms left, Gash returns one machete to his back sheath. He performs a roof-block and pass, acquiring the ax. He begins a combination of chops and slices.

The face is the last to go, revealing a hive of carnivorous worms.



Rad waits at end of the outside tunnel. The creature with "arms like snakes" stares him down.

They rush at each other.

[side closeup] Following Rad, we see two chainsaws elevate and start.

[side closeup] Following the creature, its arms lash around as it makes strange, hissing growls.

[side closeup] Rad moves closer to the side of the view. The chainsaws keep trailing further behind him.

The two meet-


And pass each other to the opposite sides. The two turns their heads towards each other. Rad confidently replies, "Hey, these belong to you?" Rad throws the snake arms at the creature, and they hit the ground. That's when we see Rad's chainsaws up close.

Chainsaws: They are made completely out of metal. The bars are vaulted for impaling. The base's front is secured with triangular barbs, and the bottoms are lines with serrated razors. Strangest of all are the anchoring chains that magnetically attach from his forearm devices when in use.

Rad throws one of the chainsaws into the creature like a spear. The forearm device quickly reels the monster in. Rad removes the chainsaw and strikes in multiple crisscrosses, cutting through the creatures in diamond formations. Though a unique style, it is reminiscent of Kratos and his chains of Olympus.



Easily dodging the slow arms, Mash applies multiple palm-strikes to the lower jaw, breaking the joints. The unclosing mouth cannot defend against the continuous, intrusive spear-hands tearing through the soft tissue. Mash has no difficulty dodging the lame and telegraphed monster arms.


As the second cop closes the distance, Bash stomps on the loose board, causing the end to uppercut the jaw. The other end follows behind. Still stunned, the cop feels the plank smash into his ribs. Instinctively guarding low, the plank breaks his unguarded jaw, then sweeps his leg. Bash stands overhead, beating the blunt end all over the lain body as the uniform saturates black and red.


Using his military knives for close combat, Gash performs a simple Escrima figure-8 weave, innovating outside the pattern like a jazz player when needed. The worms might be fast, but he is faster. As the last pieces fall to the ground, he sheathes his knives and picks up the ax and machete.

The brothers wait, listening to the sound. On schedule, Rad's platform bursts through the doorway, and they jump on. The lift reverses course, taking them through the outside hallway to the other side of the town.


We stand on the platform, our senses exposed to the fires and explosions upon exiting the tunnel.

Continuing in a swerve, we exit and flow through the warzone. We catch glimpses of Big Ben, Duke, and piles of dead monsters as we pass the streets, go up the hill, and hit the Hobb's End church.

We scale the walls to the arch. There, X waits, embracing the glory with open arms as the fires reflect off his skin and vestments.

[rear view] X looks to the right.

Our view shoots to the right, showing a few monsters trying to escape through the one open space in the east, connected to the highway. After focusing on them for a few seconds, we shoot further down the highway to several blasted parts of former escapists. Lined throughout the highway are tons of explosives on delayed timers. This allows the whole party to proceed into the trap. There are several circuits, each independently operated and non-triggering to surrounding explosions. There are far more circuits than necessary.

[rear POV] X looks to the left.

Our view shoots to the left, showing a few monsters who escaped through the one open space in the west, leading to the bridge. The view cuts to a party running for the exit. Except the camouflaged J-S2 resides there with its mouths wide open. All who try to escape elsewhere will fall into its grinding pits or be struck by the tentacles.

From the path, we turn back, quickly catching the zombified cyclist riding into town.


Rad continues through the town like a train on his platform, his chainsaws swinging and wielding through the hoards of monsters. The rapid images of chainsaws in mirrored figure 8's, cyclones, and other techniques dance before our eyes as the platform rumbles back and forth.

He spies something amid the battles. It's the cyclist going away. Needing speed, Rad shoots his auto grappling-hook into the lamppost. Swinging around its other side:

1 free hand > 1 swung chainsaw > Buzzchukchukchuk > legs and wheels cut in half

(The half bike and stumps skid on the concrete.)

Boot claws latch into the lamppost > Rad's body positions sideways > 2 free hands > 2 swung chainsaws > Buzzchukchukchuk > neck cut in half; torso and arms cut in half

Rad walks sideways until rounding the top. He fires his flamethrower below. The jetpack blasts him to another lamppost, where he continues to fire. Then to a tree. Then to a shop.

He runs from roof to roof, firing his weapon. Then he rockets to the other side of the street and does the same.


Duke casually lights a stick of dynamite by bringing the wick to his smoking cigar. He tosses explosive away while leisurely pulling another stick. He lights it and throws it to the other side. He removes the cigar to puff some smoke. Upon returning it, the ground shakes violently, catching him off guard. Breathing a little more deeply, he watches the concrete in the town center bulge and crack. The bulge increases, spreading almost the entire road.

The cigar drops to the ground. Duke faces a giant worm too, large to measure. He reaches for an emergency weapon: a multi-loaded rocket launcher. Developed by Rad, Duke fires the first rocket into the screeching mouth. Before it explodes, the second rocket is ready and fired. The first explosion happens far past the head, reeling it back, then recoiling-making way for the second rocket to go much deeper. The third hits inside the head, while the fourth, fifth, and sixth (perhaps superfluous) burst the outside layers.

The worm fall apart in several segments. "Good job, Duke." He turns to see X near his side. "You kept your senses and followed your training."

"Thank you, General!"

"We're just about done out here. I'll get the rest." X lets out a wondrous resonance, full and fortified. The few remaining monsters throughout Hobb's End stun, then shatter like glass. All of the bodies begin putrifying into dark oozes. Then they disintegrate.

The sky runs from midday to night in several seconds. The light from the church's door catches their attention as a silhouette forms and closes it.


2300 hours

X leads the troops to the front door. He rips the plaque off the door, which gives a warning about the unholiness therein. "This will be irrelevant in several minutes." He throws it aside as it burns up.


"('In the Mouth of Madness.' It's almost finished.)" A door opens. "(Styles!)"

"No, but we've got the looks." Cane looks and stares. "And no Trent either. Go ahead and finish your book." X looks over at the burgeoning wall, then looks back at Cane. "You're gonna need all the help you can get." Cane seems to be fumbling for words. "It's OK. We can wait." All staring at him: Big Ben leans on his M60, Gash runs a polishing cloth over his machete, and Duke lets out a puff of smoke.

The wall rages more into the room, giving Cane the will to finish.


" 'In the Mouth of Madness.' "

"Maybe, but you won't infect the outside world."

Cane steps in front of the wooden door, allowing the chains to fall. "I'll find a way to spread its pages to the outside world." He grips into his face, pealing himself away like paper. Pealing the other side, the tear into the abyss is complete.

"Are you ready, men?!"

"Yes, General!"

"It will just be a few seconds now."


The small roars and growls approach the frayed, paper boundary as the first signs of gnarled skin and wriggling tusks come into the light.

The troops begins retreating down the long corridor, trying to outrun the new, unholy army.

Running quickly, they cannot outpace the enormous strides of the ancients' gaits. What a pathetic battle. The Army of the Dead is cornered… but intangible? It's a trick!

The unholy army turns back to see X's army killing the last lines. They rage towards the center of the church, only to be killed all around while cornering the insurgents. The unholy army attacks the cornered group, only to harm each other. They turn back, turn everywhere, but the invaders' presence keeps shifting while taking the offensive.

In all the confusion, Sutter Cane comes back with his new power. His hand goes over the machine and discharges it. The illusions fall. The six remaining faux gods each secure their sight on a remaining soldier. Cane approaches X while the other monsters instinctively avoid him.


A husky, flesh-colored monster approaches. It tears at Gash, but he blends with each strike. The ax and machete stick to the force while gliding through the sinews. Being both unattainable yet unavoidable, Gash sticks to the monsters slashing limbs, shaving them down to the bone. With the muscle completely gone, he is free to slash and chop away at the torso.


A tall blob of flesh on stock legs approaches. It's rounded mouth is lined throughout with tusk-like teeth. Duke grabs a high-class bomb, then presses his forearms together so only the metal is exposed on the joined rim. He thrusts his hands into the beasts mouth, then twists the bombs igniter. He removes his arms with the metal grinding the monster's teeth away. Duke steps back while the monster feels the timer end. There is no fire, but the few solid remains splat messily on the melted flesh.


A mess-pool monster ending in a knuckle-trunk neck approaches. It thinks Mash will be too easy for being unarmed. From its throne of filth, the head strikes quickly from all angles. Mash simply jumps over it and lands on its back. Then he breaks its highest vertebrae. The trunk-neck coils at him but always misses as Mash's hands trace it, sensing the telegraphed moves. One by one, Mash crushes each vertebrae until it lays helpless, watching Mash breaking the bones of its melded limbs and piercing them through the body.


Cane meets X in the middle. "You definitely have power. I can use a man like you." Cane keeps circling X, who grows annoyed with Cane's offer. "Really. I'll let you be second to me." Cane leans in, "I will share the greatest of spoils with you."

Big Ben:

A marshy-green monster with wriggling tusks in its mouth approaches. Big Ben blasts the wriggling things apart with his auto shotgun. He shoves his machine pistols into the mouth and shoots a circle around its neck. The head fall off, and Big Ben thrusts his M60 inside the body. He cranks it around the innards and fires away.


An enormous, green sea monster (a body reminiscent of the Black Lagoon creature) approaches. Bash rolls under its bear-crawling body. With his personal hand mallets, he breaks through the ribs into the guts. He continues mining through the organs, turning them into the mush that leaks from the second exit of shattered ribs.


The largest of the monsters approaches: a bluish quadruped with extra limbs winged-out of its shoulders. Rad cross-stabs each chainsaw into an opposing shoulder. A quick rocket blast thrusts him in a flip over the beast as he drags the chainsaws behind. The cross-pathed saws end in the correct hand as Rad lands to the ground in a victory kneel. The monster head and a triangle of its neck roll away as the meat on both sides of the spine flop over.


X finds himself in a bus. Everyone is asleep. "I'm not going anywhere." Cain continues, "I'm God now, do you understand?" Cane leans in, "I'll prove it to you. Did I ever tell you my favorite color is blue?" Suddenly, everyone is dressed in blue while swathed in a blue haze.

X smiles and grabs an empty space near him. Yellow and red flashes free the blue as Cane appears in the bladed claws with his head bleeding. Simultaneously, the illusion of the bus disappears, and they are back in the church. The soldiers stare at the situation amongst the completed carnage.


Cane feels immense pain around his head as he is tossed into a pillar. He rolls over to see X raise a mat of gray hair, the scalp forming together as The Unnamed One places it on his helmet.

Plume: Level 1

The gray fibers uncurl to looser waves. The base of flesh gains a slight elongation backwards. This dragon-goat monster rummages through the fused mess of the imitation Mythos gods. The amalgamation fuses completely when he attaches them to his body.

Bio-Booster Underarmor: Level 1

A suit of splint armor. The greenish plates meld with his basic vestments and separate between the joints. Looking at one of the unholy imitations, he runs at it with great speed and leaps high with a punt, blasting the head into the ceiling where it explodes on impact.

He looks over at Cane.

"Wait! Please, I-"

With that incredible speed, he dashes and throws Cane into the pillar. Red liquid drenches the rounds. Only Cane's head and a few naked organs remain solid against the stone.

"Pl-agh-uh a-uch rha-agh. Ah-agh."

X quickly thrusts his hands at the head, stopping only hairs away. The force melts Cane's head all around the fixture like sludge. The orbital cavities (like a split pair of glasses) slide apart at the base and continue to the sides before finally falling.

"There is still one more element." X jumps onto a large cone protruding from the top. He spirals upwards around it in a dragon's manner (a cross between a cat and a snake).


In a secluded room of the tower, X finds the trapezohedron.


The dragon general crawls down the cone. His soldiers surround him, and he opens his hand. They all look, look inside to see Nyarlathotep-The Haunter of the Dark-staring back with other minions glimpsing from behind. Nyarlathotep's visage becomes clearer, great maliciousness shows as his face leans in… until he sees X looking back at him and startles.

X leans in. "I'm coming for you."


Lights shoot out of both sides of X's closed grip. A few shavings of glass fall to the ground. It is destroyed.


08/03/20XX: 1000 hours

A light flows over the shadows from one side of the church to the other. The structure is stronger and fuller. Inviting colors flow within.

The sun shines through the glass windows onto them.

"Shall I show you?" X opens the front doors. People from the near proximity have gathered to see. "They haven't seen this for years. We have done more than stop a fantasy."

The soldiers notice many in the crowd, including the children, resemble those from Hobb's End. "(It must have copied their images.)" They are relieved at the confirmation.

"Where are we?," Rad asks.

"Rhode Island. Providence, Rhode Island. It feels great, doesn't it? To do something this good for others. This place has been cursed for years, but not anymore." After a short silence, "I think we should get going. They're getting a little scared from our presence."


The people stand around as the doors close, not sure what to expect. A few moments of quiet, then something rises from the ground. It's nearly invisible, though its shape periodically outlines while turning in the sun. It rises further into the sky like a gentle whirlwind. The church is attached to the top, going with it into the sky. Except it isn't. The church is still on the ground, but a spiritual imprint follows on this large, invisible vessel. It continues heavenward until it is hidden by the sun.

_Henry Armitage: Entry 3, Entry 4_

Entry 3

August 03, 20XX

My associate, Dr. Francis Morgan, brought my attention to a news report in Providence, Rhode Island:

"Locals have been celebrating in the east side neighborhood today after getting their church back. The reason? They claim it was cursed.

While there is no record of the church being cursed or damned, locals are saying that they kept it quiet, even among themselves. 'We were afraid to talk about it. We couldn't even look at it, but now we feel safe. We're finally talking honestly,' says local resident Judy.

"I asked another local named John about the situation: 'And how do you know it was free from the curse?'

'There was always an evil shadow over it. Some people had disappeared going there. You could just feel that it was evil. But this morning, the shadows went away, dissolved. The sun shone on it. That hasn't happened in I don't know how many years.'

But he's not the only one holding to this story. A local priest from Incarnate Glory stands with what others have been saying. 'I heard about it from some others. I went there, and it felt safe suddenly. A few of us went inside had changed. It was clean and bright with golden white walls and lavender textiles. I'm taking this as a miracle.'

"Most of the original witnesses enjoy talking about the amazing event, but a few are giving more to the story.

'There was something else when the doors opened. It was what was inside. We only saw it for a little while, but they looked… scary. Maybe "scary" isn't the right word, but they didn't look like people. I don't know what they were or if they were dangerous, but most of them looked [strange].' The interviewee asked to remain anonymous.

I asked more people if they had seen anything like the previous witness. A few agreed there was something very weird there, some kind of inhuman inhabitants, while others refused to comment."

(source: Providence Daily Chronicle, Stephanie Gomez, August 03, 20XX)

Beyond the newspaper, I have-on account from an anonymous reporter-that certain details have been omitted from the newspapers concerning what was witnessed. According to these accounts, it was like a small army, except the soldiers were dead and rotten, but that is not the strangest part. The strangest part is the one who appeared to be their leader. Witnesses claimed he was inhumanly large with a creature's face of unknown origin. Furthermore, he had many golden eyes that shone in a superb, almost mesmerizing manner.

Additionally, one witness said the army flew out of the ground into the sky on a mostly invisible vessel. I say mostly because its shape did reveal in quick intervals. The details are very sketchy, but they agree that it vaguely appeared like a giant animal, possibly a vastly oversized whale.

There is one matter that I can sense is connected, but I haven't yet figured out how. The pop romance author Sutter Cane* has been missing for several weeks. His unpublished work, "In the Mouth of Matrimony," was discovered within. As a bit of levity of the pulp drivel, someone circled a phrase therein that said, "I cried that I would never see his handsome face or his money again." Someone, presumably the same critic, wrote next to it: "Do you actually read this?"

*Bibliography includes: The Rose in the Cellar, The Hobbs End Aristocrat, The Kisser in Candlelight, The Fabio Out of Time.

Entry 4

August 04, 20XX

Though the following event began on August 01, 20XX, its information was not released outside of the scientific community until August 04, 20XX. Even then, this confidential information-provided to me by our own observatory at Miskatonic University-was allowed to a very select few. I feel honored to have been one of them:

On August 01, 20XX, scientists at Miskatonic University Observatory witnessed a strange occurrence in the galaxy. It seemed unbelievable. They had to confer with other observatories to confirm the data.

Our scientists were not the only ones seeking confirmation. On August 02, 20XX, a consensus was affirmed by major observatories the world over, including those in Tokyo, Rome, Cambridge, Rio de Janeiro, South Africa, Negev, and Anarctica (sources: unavailable to the public).

The consensus: several stars in the universe are realigning.

My first reaction was fear, but something reassured me. The Necronomicon predicted an alignment of stars that would set the Great Old Ones and the Outer Gods upon our world. However, when my request to see the available information was granted, I realized the patterns were quite different. The stars that were realigning seemed to be returning to an original, ideal order. Several stars had not yet started the process, but I began to yearn for the time when they did.

This alignment was something very counter to what was described in the Necronomicon. In fact, my intuition is that this movement is directly pushing back against these dark forces. Moreover, my intuition tells me: "Something far beyond them has just declared war."

[The full The Unnamed One story is available on the Archive Of Our Own website.]
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