Categories > Books > H. P. Lovecraft


by ccthomas2 0 reviews

The general and his forces must separate to begin a 2-front battle against the Lovecraftian gods.

Category: H. P. Lovecraft - Rating: R - Genres: Fantasy,Horror,Sci-fi - Warnings: [!!] [V] - Published: 2020-12-29 - 6467 words - Complete


_Cthulhu Dream 4:Before the Throne_

Cthulhu finds himself on a floor of wet tiles. Their purples, deep reds, and rarer greens glow vibrant from within. Among the deck of this indoor pool, his fellow gods waddle about. He realizes, "(The squares are less than an inch, yet we barely fit them.)"

He sees Rhan-Tegoth and Shub-Niggurath and Tsathoggua and- "(and Yog-Sothoth?!)" Its metallic orbs reflect a blinding light. "(Why didn't I see it before?! It's been on us all this time, that hyper-yellow glaze. It's coming from behind, a phosphorescence from the pool!)"

Their backs remain to the water because of what lies before them-something too captivating-an enormous throne of some powerful, unknown being.

Its overbearing brilliance reveals: "You are but playthings before me."

_The Lurking Fear/The Horror in the Museum_


Ping Ping

Ping Ping Ping

Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping
Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping
Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping
Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping
Ping Ping Ping Ping Ping

Ping Ping Ping

Ping Ping


flash flash, Reeeeeee! flash flash Reeeeeee! flash
Reeeeeee! flash flash flash Reeeeeee! flash Reeeeeee!
flash Reeeeeee! flash Reeeeeee! flash flash flash
Reeeeeee! flash Reeeeeee! flash flash Reeeeeee! flash
Reeeeeee! flash flash Reeeeeee! flash flash Reeeeeee!

Clashing! Fighting! "(The light!)" Clawing! Panic! "(That noise!)" Death! Hate! Rage! "(Stop!)" "(Die!)" Blinding! Screeeching! Biting! "(It's too bright!)" Ripped nails! "Raaahhhheee!" Reeeeeeee! "(Make it stop!)"

Total chaos!

Frooooooomhh! Frooooooooooomhh! Froooooomhh!
Froooooooooomhh! Froooooomhh!
Froooooomhh! Froooooooooooomhh! Frooomhh!
Froooooomhh! Froooooooooomhh! Froooooomhh!

The smoke.

The burning.

Rent nails in scummy flesh. Blood everywhere.


"Raaahhhheee!" "Screeeeeeehhh!"







Clawing at. Clawing up. Any way out, no matter what!

"Aaaaahhhh!" "(The sun! It's too bright!)"
"Aaaaahhhh! [Was it you?!]"

"[I'll kill you first!]"

"(Someone there!) [Die!]"

"[It's you!]" "[Cursed English!]" "[No! You're the English!]" "[Die! Die! Die!]"

Barely adjusting, your eyes singe at the light. Your head snaps back as a leg breaks your back.
The sun. It must be the sun. Biting and clawing at the other, a cold blade from behind slices your throat.
You can see your shoulders. Your arms are blurred against the shape in front. Intense pain! Looking down: a sledgehammer is clawing your chest from behind. "(Aaaagh!)" The weight is gone; it culled too much.
It hurts. You begin to see. "(Wait! Who are you fighting?!)"
See liquid-bursts before breath slows as you examine your chest.
The things, they're all around. How many are they? Wait, are they… no! It can't be!
"Hold this."
A metal plate: "Front towards enemy."
"(Wild. Impulsive. Dumb.)," Rad thinks to himself.


In the dimmed room of a private museum, an enormous figure casts a shadow from the hall's light. It moves towards us as our view tilts back, revealing a tower below a vaulted sky. The dimensional shamblers press against the glassy border of our dimension. Their mouths are lusting.

They want in.

The view cuts to the full body of the 15-foot, 6-armed, tentacle-ridden Rhan-Tegoth: A sleeper of the Outer Gods.

Gelatinous tentacles (covered by mech attachments) sense over the contours before latching in.

The bio-cables shoot through a closer radius.


A lone voice shouts among the clan, "[Wait! Stop! Look at who you're killing!]"

So many dead, the bodies are everywhere. Their sight adjusts. It hurts, but now it fuels their rage.

The lone voice continues, "[There! It's them! The ones in green! Get them!]"

The fire is all around them, growing stronger from wandering bodies. There is only one way out: up the mountain.

The troops sprint up the path with the tribe close behind. They continue up… and up… and up… until they reach the top and spread. There is no way out, only a cliff. "(But why are they diving for it?)"

A monstrosity of bizarre size and mutation breaks from the ground (another soldier is controlling it). The five troops land in separate mouths. Thin secretions shield their bodies as they begin firing with lasers from alien parts.

The clan retreats in haste, trying desperately to avoid being obliterated or eaten. Yet the numbers thin quickly, and those furthest south place their hope in the mansion.

The remaining faction returns to the bodies of their brothers and sisters, clawed and eaten. The mounds are unbearable.

And there is no mansion.


And there home below is a lake of fire. There is no escape. There is no hope. So they panic, and they rage, killing each other-thinning the last.


[closeup POV] The three eyes of Rhan-Tegoth awaken.

[tilted frontal view of X and the ceiling] Dimensional shamblers crawl closer, bending the plasticity of the dimensional wall.


"Major, is that all of them?"

"No. There are a few left."

They exit J-S2. Rad points to the vessel's tail. "Their leader took a toll for himself. As we ran over the fire pit, he dove in long enough to grab the underside and scurry the tail. Rad continues watching the Martense leader with his Transparency vision and points him out. "That's why he's right there."

Knowing he's seen, the clan leader jumps closer, his body singed like volcanic ash. "[Who wants to die?]" Rad steps forward.

"Show him what you got."

"You got this, Major."

"Take him down."

"I won't even use my chainsaws." Looking up, "Let's go." The Martense leaps at Rad, who calmly step-pivots and skins the back scalp with his drills. It turns to attack, but Rad is already riding his grappling hook to the shark's tail.

The Martense crawl-leaps to the sights, but the soldier's not there. He rounds the other side. Nothing. Looking back and forth, he considers his options as Rad slowly lowers upside-down behind him. The drills go right through the Martense's ears.

The cannibal claws his way up the trunk and jumps for a thorny antennae. He swing from it at Rad, who uses another antennae, swings at him.


(Two fingers from the cannibal's hand fly away.)

No time to think!

Swing back!


(Three of the cannibal's ribs fly away)


(The outer half of the cannibal's second hand and forearm drift down.)

They each land on a thorn-antennae. The Martense angers at his missing parts.


He turns to see Rad's boots hit his face. Falling over, the cannibal lands on another extension while Rad waits yards away.

As the Martense stands, Rad shoots another grappling hook. The cannibal climbs several feet to get the drop, but Rad's wire extends lower, bringing him out of range.

Rad shoots his grappling hook into the cannibal from below and pulls him in for a face-full of drills. In haste, the Martense folds and repels against the drills. The impact mangles his feet.

His back and head stomp the ground as Rad lowers stylishly. The soldier knows this trick, but he plays along. He walks over to the deadweight and kicks it lightly to test for movement. "(You're not fooling anyone.)" He pivots with a close rear foot. "It's OK! He's dead!" He feels the beastly grab of his ankle and smiles.

Rad's chest hits the ground, and he folds to the retraction. The thing topples his back with the leg twisted. The beast's mouth comes near the boot. Rad gives an apathetic plea. "Oh no. Please. Not that one. It's my favorite." The trapezoidic blades expel. "Please…" Rad's body twists with a counter leg-vise. "Stop." The Martense's jaw and shards of his face fly through the air.

[Martense POV] Rad looks over us with the sky behind him. "You also have something the general needs. Brown and blue. I'm sure you have the best of the lot."


Armor Amendment: Gemstones

The proboscis horn blares. The torso bloats. And the crab claws surround.

And the general's wings expand.

Their rims sever the crab claws before the bases contract, sheering the arms with constricting swords.

The warlord's limbs grab the bloated torso. The worm-appendages join the wing-tips in carving through. The many brown and blue gemstones (formed from ocular organs) shine with the armor as the limbs begin pulling the rends apart.


The troops make it to the other side, watching Rad casually leaning on his arm. The hand is stuck in the burbling pond of an open throat. The eyeless face aside bears its own streams. "Big Ben, you got your sniper rifle handy?"

"Yes, Major!"

The clogged drain twitches with some aftershocks.

"Duke, do you have your rocked launcher?"

"Yes, Major!"

"Alright." Thunk. Glop, glop, glop. "Let's get the last three."


The crab claws melt and crust over the tri-blade and rowed spikes.

Tail Weapons: Level 2

The tentacled underside slips over the bulging and bulbous tail. For each weapon, a tentacle opens and flattens around the base. The remaining ones reform into hair-lined textures.

Tail Armor: Level 2


Sitting on J-S2, Rad follows the remaining clan by combining Transparency and Extended visions. "Big Ben, 03°N 15°W."


"Duke, don't fire yet, but aim 08°S 13°E. Wait… … … Now."

Foooosh -- Boom!

"You got two with that one. What do you say we call it a night and head for Oklahoma tomorrow?"

In unison, "Yes, Major!"

Going inside, "I love the way you work as a team. Y'all work really well together."

The church layers inside flash several times as the mouth closes.


The victor exits the front door into the hallway. His tail strikes back and forth before winding around the waist.

The vaulted ceiling on the right is a sludgy fountain of melted minds from the dimensional shamblers. Their heads hang between both dimensions.

On the left is a panorama of Rhan-Tegoth. His layers are dissected and plastered all over the wall. The view fades out.


[fade in] Separate bodies of caked dirt dry and crack under the desert sun.

Thump, thump, thump, thump

Rad lays another one.

Thump, thump, thump, thump

And another.

Thump, thump, thump, thump

They have all been set. The perimeter of J-S2 is lined with vertical thumpers acting like tiny oil wells.

"Now, he will swallow the whole thing." Rad looks back to the vessel. "Man your stations, I'll set him upon us."

"Yes, Major!"

Rad waits at the edge of the central mouth until all stations are ready. He looks back to the arid ground, scanning with Transparency vision. "(There, a brood of snakes.)" He sets the laser to penetrate. A concentrated blast seeps into the ground, taking them all out."

Muted deep under the earth: "RRRRRROOOOAAAAAAARRRRRRR!"

Then: rumble Rumble RUMBLE BUMBLE! QUAKE!

The enormous fangs of a rushing atoll spread from the dirt and clamp over J-S2.


Blasphemous chanting.

Both the Voormis and formless spawn worship their furry toad god in these hidden, stone chambers. Their bodies rise and fall before a living statue that never speaks, nor moves, nor breathes. Not unless it is fed.

The standing pyres, supported on twisting legs, cast their black shadows over the unhallowed cage and their living idol. The worship will last for hours.


[side-rear view] Simultaneously, the worshipers silence and shoot their gaze near us. Taking up two-thirds of the view is a rounded wall with blade-rimmed wings, glaring. Giant worms covered with mouths unfurl closely, gurgling creepily as their feelers writhe.


The shark flows into the Abadox. Fangs jut in from all around.

Right, left, zoom, stop (hit), right, up, [the tongue lashes as a second obstacle] dive, cycle, stop, cycle back, up, right, stop, zoom, (hit), zoom, left, dive-cycle, zoom, zoom

The shark passes the first layer, firing its thorny spikes into the gums behind. The fangs lodge in place, but the tongue still rampages in the open cavern. Rad maneuvers quite well, considering its girth and speed. Electric beams and lasers fire from guarded pods, aided strongly by the shark's regrowing eyes that shoot and explode like missiles. The firing continues until the tongue spasms and tumbles to the base. The vessel begins to cross over as smaller parasites fly to attack. The artillery tracks and shoots the pawns, though the tongue squirms weakly below. One beam aims warily at the organ.

The premonition is right, for the stunned tongue comes flailing back, knocking the ship to its previous position. The vessel fires all weapons at it until it falls again and twitches below. The ship tries to pass again at greater speed. At every point, one troop must maintain fire while the others strike the parasites. The duty changes from one soldier to the next until J-S2 finally passes.

Everything becomes still. Nothing is attacking. The soldiers scan with their weapons ready. It's too dark and quiet.

Something red begins to lighten. It continues into dual blocks of wavering tissue. The venom sacks!


We catch a glimpse of the formless spawn and voormis in panic, yet Tsathoggua remains unphased in the background. The bust of the slayer stops and overtakes our view. Something in front of it bursts, splattering guts all over his vestments. The carnivorous worms devour the parts, and the tower moves on.


It's not so difficult once Rad deciphered the pattern. The caustic globs are thrown in a blocky, figure-8 cycle. Evasion is simple and aiming is easy.

The venom sacks grow increasing pallid, trembling more and more. They cannot hit J-S2 again. The frantic jittering continues until surface spots start to break. A slopping puss runs over them.

The shaking increases to near a strobed blur. So too does the pale and red flashing until-

Burst, explode, flop

They give out like a heart attack. The deflated, hanging tissues fade into the darkness. The path forward illuminates.

The easy ride leads to an awning of bluish-purple hives. The lungs.

Deadly mucus shoots from every angle as Rad uses the advanced space to maneuver.

Forward, left, back, right, down, (hit) forward-

The lasers and beams twist to aim in any direction. The explosive eyeballs fire when the lungs are in front, and the thorny spikes fire when the lungs are behind.

Up, right, back, left, back, right, left, forward-

Many of the air sacks tremble and turn a bright purple.

Reserving the power, Rad sends electricity through the body (body-shock) to destroy the surrounding slime. It takes time to build, so he only uses it when it counts.

Many more of the sacks vibrate and lighten.

A few burst.

Several more burst.

The remaining ones fire frantically.

Forward, left, back, right, down, (body-shock) forward, forward, back, right, forward, left, left, forward, (hit), right, right, back.

Many more sacs burst. The few remaining unleash an avalanche. "Aim for the back!" All weapons attack the rear mucus as Rad reverse-rams through the damage into the sacs.


The electric charge magnifies and resonates through the target like electricity in water. The rear is defeated.

The front fires quickly, but it doesn't have the numbers to succeed. The shark dodges and charges its power. After a while, "We're going in!" The concentrated weapons easily dissipate the front guard.

Zap-screech, zap-screech, zap-screech


Rad allows the vessel to recharge before proceeding.


We see several pannings of the denizens plastered on the stone ceiling and walls to create esoteric murals. Near the standing fires are countless vivisected tissues, mangled bodies, guts, and blood set as intricate, bizzarely-aesthetic arrangements to inconceivable rituals. The yellow and red fire maddens the sight. This is the wife, the very consort, to the indescribably-macabre horror within the eastern dimensional vault of the red planet.

Tsathoggua seems unaffected.

Scanning the room with Tsathoggua anchored in the background, we come upon The Unnamed One perched on a pyre like a raven.

He just stares at Tsathoggua. Patient. Waiting.


The ship continues through the Abadox. They can sense it. They can hear it. It's so close, but they must be careful. It will be guarded.

Weapons are aimed above and below. The thorny spikes and eyeballs are ready. It's too quiet.


They breathe deeply.


There it is again, somewhere. It's coming.

Screek, criug



An enormous mass like hives of intestines capture the ship.

Rad initiates the body-shock. The army fires the artillery.

Release. The combination affords them a few seconds.

"(Have to chance it!)" The ship races towards the atrium.

More of the wormy viscera attack, slowing the ship on its pace. J-S2's biting slits and extra mouths offer some reliance, but it's not enough.

Deadly, aggressive weeds chokes the ship

They keep piling as the ship drags. All weapons fire, but there isn't enough power for another body-shock. Rad tries his fancy maneuvering. Combined with the ships defenses, the army's artillery, and sheer, iron will, they make it several yards from the chamber before their complete capture.

The ship twists and rumbles, grinding into the ceiling pits.

Emergency exit engage!

The central mouth opens, and its inner tissues pour out as an emergency passage. The troops slew down its path into the chamber uncontrollably.

Before emerging, the room shakes violently amid the heavy pounding. Trapdoors open above, flooding the room with snake-worm-intestinals. Barely getting to their feet, they see the heart pounding away behind two constricting partitions.


X silently concentrates, keeping his head bowed and eyes shut.


They all start drowning in the flooding vermin. They can't fight or move their arms in the thicket. None of them. None, but one. Big Ben: the tallest of the group. He readies his sniper rifle, but a new flood clogs his the vision.


X continues in concentration.


Using his visual and muscles memory, Big Ben steadies his rifle and fires.


X opens his eyes and straightens his neck. He stares at Tsathoggua patiently.

Tsathoggua does nothing.

Something flashes between the new altars. In the wash of electric waves are images of snake fangs and snake skin.

Auxiliary Weapons: Yig Fangs

Wing-Swords: Level 2

Vestments: Level 2

The wing-swords are upgraded with the Yig fangs, while the yellow & brown, scaly leather fortifies the defensive layer.

X flies off the pyre to the ground. The mech arms fire the Yig fangs like a machine gun, impaling the outer perimeter of the body. The mech arms shift to a different selection.

X steps onto the sacrificial cliff. Tsathoggua's tongue shoots out at light speed, and the mech arms fire the electric blaster. Like Yig's lungs, the electricity flows through the furry toad continuously, locked by the Yig fangs. Tsathoggua is completely stopped but conscious.

X walks over the bridge-tongue into the mouth. His claws shring and begin to eviscerate the entire body. Murky chunks collect around the altars. Soon, bone shards join them.

The piles grow near the height of the fires.


The army rests near the fissure. It quakes as it recedes. J-S2 is spent, laying on the ground with a fine fluid leaked from its mouth.

"I guess the General was right. We are going to win this war."

"Major! Look!"

Rad and the others look where Gash is pointing. J-S2 is repairing.


Tsathoggua is nearly cleaned out, but his amphibian skin retains its shape. X removes the last of the inside. As soon as he casts it out, the skin loosely recoils around him like a rubber band. X grabs a handful of the coarse hair. The rest of the hair is magnetized to that clump.


It comes off in one full cluster. The skin turns nearly aqua-green and groups into his armor plates.

Bio-Booster Underarmor: Level 2

Still holding the suit of hair, he lays it on his helmet. The strands gathers to the center.

Plume: Level 2

We reside in the cave's center, facing X and the sacrificial altar. X faces us as the fires turn lilac with a milky-white base. The shadows cast differently as the flames run another direction. The scene fades into darkness.

All we see now are the purple flames and his golden eyes.

_Henry Armitage: Entry 8_

Entry 8 (Retroactive Entry)

August 08-11, 20XX

[The following entry was not in my initial publication. Some weeks after the initial release, I was contacted by Father Michael Fender of Arkham about other events previously hidden from the public. Listed below are selected excerpts from his letter to me and his journal of the events that transpired between August 08-11 of 20XX.]

"Dr. Henry Armitage, my name is Father Michael Martin Fender of Incarnate Word Church in Arkham. I read your book with much enthusiasm. I am happy to tell you that there is even more to your story that we have kept as a secret until now.

What I am about to tell you may seem strange, though I think someone like you will believe us. I am sharing this now because the need for secrecy has passed. We originally wanted to protect the ones that came to help, but they have already moved on. I regret we could not get this to you sooner. Of course, we also weren't sure what others might think of us." (from the introductory letter)


"We received strange sightings from a few people on the countryside of Arkham, where the enormous wreck of the West Mansion once was. There were a few reports by word of mouth about a small army of dead soldiers cleaning up the mess. Some curious souls went there to see if it was true. It was. They also went to see if they were real hostile. They weren't.

A few of my own parishioners went to see for themselves. They came back alive and unhurt, asking me to come see for myself." (p. 1)

"It didn't take long for them to win our trust. After everyone had cleared the mess, the army asked me to bless the ground." (p. 3)

"They gave us some seeds that one named Rad had developed. He said he had made them from a combination of specialized seeds from foreign lands and scientific methods. We, especially the children, were given the seeds to spread across the land." (p. 4)

"Another place we went was the empty Whateley farm. One of them named Bash gave the children some little hammers to make them feel they could contribute. Another one named Duke let some help push the buttons. The whole place was blown up, and they cleared it as well. They asked for my blessing of the land and gave us more seeds to plant." (p. 6)

"We covered them in large clothes and covers as we all moved towards the Witch House. They also destroyed it and had the ground blessed. Afterwards, they rebuilt it as a hospital and children's center. They could build it quickly because Rad had specialized technology. He later shared some of this technology and their instructions. We have them hidden right now. When they're done here and are far away, we will give it to the science department of the nearby college." (p.10)

"They would not go to Innsmouth right now. They said there was a proper time to go, but it hadn't happened yet. They told us it would happen soon when their general returned. Some asked when that would be. They told us it would be very soon. A few looked sad, but one of them assured us, 'Some day, we will all be together forever.' (p.15)

"The army was able to reach an agreement between her [Mrs. Summers] and her neighbors about the garden gnome situation." (p.13)

_Nyarlathotep (A Hill to Die Upon)_

Standing unfathomably tall, with three legs and a head that twists and flaps, is Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos, trodding pensively along the elevations.

"(Green pastures, soft hills, a rich sunset? Something is not right.)"

He turns toward us, suspecting he saw something. "(Nothing.)" As he starts turning away, we see X (quite minute in comparison) crawling up his back. "(Must be my sick imagination)."

The colossal giant stiffens. He senses something is still here. Where?


A hundred fangs shoot into Nyarlathotep's lower spine. The creeping fingers scamper to protect it. From his bare neck to mid spine, we see X slide down the column with his tail dragging through the putrid meat. Black sewage spurts from the open gash.

The roar would rile the surrounding darkness if there was any, but nothing can assist him now. He is alone.

The arms panic over his back, but there is nothing. Two extra arms form from the spiraling chaos, but there is no freedom.

[Nyarlathotep POV] We see the edges of our orbital cavities and raw bust, but there is something else. There, dashing down the right shoulder!

[frontal view of X] In slow-motion, X runs through the valley as a stomping hand-like a downed plane-crashes behind him, while grounded tentacles are too slow to react.

[frontal view of X] X continues the great race as the rear boulder lifts and the tentacles retract. Along the cleared trail, we see a pattern:

On the far edges are breadcrumbs of embedded Yig fangs.
Closer inward are raked lines from the wing-swords.
Nearing the center are multi-punctured tracks from the versatile feet.
Dead-center is the craggy gorge from the tail spikes and tri-blade-the ones primed with the body of Brown Jenkin, who had absorbed much from Nyarlathotep's presence. Rhan-Tegoth's amendment augments those powers.

We watch as Nyarlathotep tries to crush the afflicter. The colossus keeps striking all over, always behind as X runs to the end and continues his streak on the underneath horizon, his clawed feet securing easily. He reaches the chest, streams sideways, and repeats the pattern, reversed on the opposite arm. Nyarlathotep cannot match the energy of the bio-boosted armor.

Showing the weakened disparity, X teleports to the god's right arm, digging into the graveyard brawn. Nyarlathotep smashes and grounds the stationary vermin. The great hand removes, showing the aggressor chewing deeper with further strata fanning outward. The boulder crashes on the surface again, clawing feverishly against it.

The backward-peeled mound is much wider, the parasite having reached the bone. The giant fist slams and cringes. Long mats of tough hide flop from the creases. It opens to reveal the mounds of his flesh in hand.

Realizing it's an illusion, he searches all over until finding the insurgent under the other arm, hanging by the worm-appendages and absorbing the lifeforce.

[Nyarlathotep POV] X races at us, growing much greater in stature than he should.

X jumps up to a face smaller than himself, Bashing his tail against one side and the other.

[closeup] The bio-cables shoot into the crease of a casing around the god's leg.

In a second, X speeds a distance and electrocutes Nyarlathotep through the cords. His stopped body can only move in short spans every few seconds. X runs around the captive's body several times, trapping the limbs with the extended cables.

The shocking phenomenon continues, reducing Nyarlathotep in size. He randomly spasms to his pharaoh form until he has no power left for anything but that.

"(Offer your enemy an advantage, and he'll take it.)"

X tears a rend along his clavicle while the pharaoh crouches in recovery.

[X's POV] Circling around the pharaoh, the weakened chaos espies us and charges.

The pharaoh staff comes from the side, impaling X against a blank wall.

The pharaoh approaches, tilting the staff within his enemy's chest. He reaches for the rend, and splits the armor off X in one piece. Quickly, X kicks it out of his hands towards the cliff. The pharaoh dives and grabs it in time. X kicks several times to wrestle it away, but the pharaoh won't relent and finally rolls away with it in hand.

Able to speak, it sneers, "Now I'm going to use your own power against you." He puts the suit on only to thunder aloud as it shocks and burns his body. He feels his power absorbed from within. He pulls it off. Melted skin is still attached. It's too late; it's already been redeemed.

In rage, he grinds the staff up X's torso to his heart, fuming, "Nwahlargth relwat!."


The pharaoh feels his body seized by several limbs as the fully restored Military X ["(It was always here.)"] pulls his face in. The absorbed power is now in X, too strong for his enemy.

The pharaoh's eye nears the staff's tip. Struggling and pushing only slows the inevitable.


X pulls the face from the sludgy rod only to shift it a few inches and pull it in again.

[Nyarlatotep's POV] The staff tip approaches as the view shakes sideways, tilts up, shakes back, but is always corrected towards the center. It comes close, so close! Darkness.


Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
(B)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
(u)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!Shenk! Shenk!
(u)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
(h)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
(n)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!
(!)| Shenk! Shenk! Shenk! Shenk!

A wall of metal on one side of the face, lengths of spikes weighting the other.

Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!
Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn! Shuhn!

Quick relief is met with great loss and panic.

Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!
Spurt! Spurt! Spurt! Spurt!

It flows down, drenching level under level. The pain was much greater than expected. That's when the pharaoh realizes that the gold band on his right hand is missing.

[Nyarlathotep's POV] Our face hits the ground. It settles for second until we feel the dirt breaking over our face as heavy stomps approach us. The golden pharaoh adornments are removed from us.

[Military X amendment: classified]

X pulls the lax body of the pharaoh. "You're the messenger of the gods? I want you to give them a message."

We see the pharaoh's staff rises, then the tip drives towards us. The rod turns vertically as it continues until the top covers our view, quickly cutting to-

[retracing view] Nyarlathotep-the Black Pharaoh, the Messenger of the gods, the Crawling Chaos-lifted several feet off the ground… with his own staff impaled through his mouth, out the perineum, and into the dirt. His body languishes, spasming and gurgling on the melting guts flowing out of his every rupture.

The view continues to retract as the silhouette sinks into a red-gorged sunset spanning a great hill on the plateau of Leng, a nexus for all the Great Old Ones and Outer Gods to see.

And dread.

_Henry Armitage: Entry 8 (continued)_

Trish Scarborough of the Arkham Gazette was numbered among the inside group. Though keeping all events from public knowledge, she kept a personal journal, which she allowed me to borrow. (My sincere appreciation to you, Trish Scarborough).


"The three brother (i. , Bash, Gash) have a very strong bond and spend a lot of time together. However, they use their strong bond to bring others in, always making room for them to share in that intimacy. It often feels like they are adopting you into their family.

Duke is an interesting one. While he does socialize, he definitely needs quiet to recharge. He likes to prepare and set things in order. I can see why he chose a preparatory field like explosives. He still cares for people. He prefers to spend moments with people in a comfortable silence or deep conversation. The residents have come to understand this and can stay together in quiet company. I'm relieved people understand this form of connection that is so often misunderstood in the West.

Big Ben is more like a chameleon. He likes to be around lots of different types of people and adapt to their personalities. It's his way of connecting, to meet with people where they are. The kids also love to use him as a jungle gym.

The last one is Stryker, whom the others call Rad. He is admired and revered for his high intelligence and is like the big brother while the general is away. People enjoy how stylish he can be, with some (especially the youth) wearing their hair like him and getting sunglasses like his. While the other soldiers look up to and admire each other, Rad stands the tallest." (p. 20)

"Father Michael has shown me the hidden technologies and writings of Rad. They include the seeds he had described in his account. The army will be leaving soon. They have already told us they will be venturing to another place to meet the general. Being foretold, we will have Rad's work delivered to Arkham University on August 12." (p. 28)

"The people no long fear monsters. They don't even fear death because they've seen proof of life after death. More so, they see that there is a plan from a great, benevolent force. They recognize that good is stronger, and that good has already won by its own nature. By its own nature, it is meant to rise, whereas the nature of evil is designed to fall." (P. 30)

_Cthulhu Dream 5: The Secret Room_

Knock, knock, knock, knock

(groan) "Yes?"

"Daddy, it's me."

"Yes, OK. Hold on."

The low lighting vaguely outlines Cthulhu as he stands from his throne and shuffles to the door.

On the other side is his daughter (Ghatanothoa) in her nightgown. "Daddy, I need to show you something." She takes Cthulhu by the hand and leads him up the stairs. Along the hallway, she removes a loose panel."A while back, Dagon and Mother Hydra found this secret passage." They pass into a dark area like an attic. "They used to play up here a lot, but they said I wasn't allowed to. I thought it was a little strange, but I didn't really mind." They walk into a room devoid of the cold waters. The aristocratic room seems to stand in its own ascent. Everything besides the marble floor is made of a white substance like malleable wax. The white glare from outside pours through the openings and casts opaque streams of shadows. It feels like a French impressionistic painting.

[back-angled POV] Ghatanothoa leads her father into the center of the room. What seemed a nightgown is actually a ballerina's dress. "And, Daddy, that's when I discovered this." She walks forward behind the pillars.

Cthulhu watches himself from outside. He doesn't know what it is, but it's distressing him.

[R'lyeh Cthulhu] His breath bursts out.

[dream Cthulhu] In the room's center, he shakes and fumes but can't interfere.

[R'lyeh Cthulhu] Cthulhu only sees the dream self from that backward angle, but he senses what is raging him, distressing him. He tries to make himelf move, tries to see around the pillars. "(Move! Move! I can't see! What is it?! Move!)"







A sleepful darkness barely resolves, giving vague outlines of rashly-grouped buildings devoid of activity. Moving down, an open pit of shadows is illuminated by the yellow robe of the one roaming about: Hastur, The King in Yellow.

He senses something, but it doesn't scare him. He listens to it as it flows through him and all about. He doesn't resist. He welcomes it. "(Relief?)"
The force leads him to turn towards another in the shadows. Hastur does not fight back or raise his fists. He feels… "(It feels right.)"

He walks towards the one approaching him, and they meet without speaking. Hastur is captivated by the other's essence. A great peace falls on him as if these are the waters he's always wanted to flow in. Falling into the aura, something between ambient singing and mystical instruments fills his mind.

So captivated by the spiritual state, he barely notices the physical traits as he surrenders his vulnerability. He removes his mask, and (after the brief seconds of blocked vision from the passing material) he sees the golden eyes for the first time.

The other being, like a guardian from Heaven, places his bladed-hands on Hastur's face. Without attacking, the hands drawn the ocean of tiny maggots away. "Now they're mine." Seeking completion, Hastur loosens his robe and surrenders it to him.

The image of Hastur's barren face wanders towards us as we walk into it. The image fades to the outside of the city as we cross its brink. Still moving forward, the drifter passes us, his body encased in light-glazed shadows once more.

We see his face-his eyes closed in walking meditation. The shadows of the city-an abandoned city of pleasant rest-soften enough to see the traveller walks instinctively between the urban constructs until he senses water. Without looking, he relieves two slops of mutant shark tissue into the sea. They form a raft and carry The Unnamed One in undisturbed meditation while drifting away.

_Cthulhu Dream 6:Center Stage_

Knock, knock, knock, knock

(groan) "Yes?"

"Daddy, It's me."

"Yes, OK. Hold on."

The low lighting vaguely outlines Cthulhu as he stands from his throne and shuffles to the door. He pauses for a second, confused, then proceeds to the door

On the other side is his daughter (Mother Hydra) in her nightgown. "Daddy, I need to show you something." She takes Cthulhu by the hand and leads him up the stairs. Along the hallway, she removes a loose panel."A while back, Dagon and Ghatanothoa found this secret passage." They pass into a dark area like an attic. "They used to play up here a lot, but they said I wasn't allo-"

"Wasn't allowed to. You thought it was a little strange, but you didn't really mind."

"Yes. How did you know?"

"I… I don't remember."

"Oh… well… I want to show you this." She leads them into the same "French impressionistic painting" room.

[back-centered POV] Mother Hydra leads her father into the center of the room. She, too, is revealed to be wearing a ballerina's dress. "And, Daddy, that's when I discovered this." She walks towards the pillars. From behind one, a large being in a tuxedo and a pure-white masque appears.

He approaches her and invites her to close the distance. She joins his dance-frame as a beautiful but disorienting Waltz song plays. They glide back and forth across the floor. The song eventually stops as they approach the center.

The being removes his masque to show his goat-dragon face. Mother Hydra rests by his side as an acidic tentacle spreads onto her face. She leans into the blaster nozzle tenderly while crying. He smiles savoringly at Cthulhu.

"You can't save her."

Everything goes black.

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