Cthulhurotica (6 page)

He couldn’t do it.

This time, prying him off was not so easy. He resisted and I had to use both hands.

“Get. Off!”

I twisted, but he’d grown stronger since the last time I’d allowed this much advance. His saucers dug into my leg and it hurt. “Damn you, I said… Let… go!”

Instinct was to keep prying and stay focused on that aspect. Logic insisted I turn the opposite direction of the winding, but it was hard to remember that when I saw the blood seeping from under his saucers. Especially hard to think he purposely dug even deeper as I sought freedom from his grasp.

During my schooling, the instructor made me repeat the releasing exercises until they were ingrained to memory. I’d hated the boredom of it. Well, the effort finally paid off, and I turned automatically in the correct direction. Sucking in a sharp breath as the pain intensified momentarily, I was finally free and able to back up to a safe distance.

Blood streamed from the saucer-cuts and pooled beneath my left foot. I shook with anger and fear at how close I’d let him get.
Never again
. It was time to seek new prey for Theo to work out his needs on. I’d take my pleasure from the ones who’d already learned to wield their power.

Surveying the damage while I fumed, I contemplated my next move. It’d be gratifying to kill the ungrateful beast now, but if I did that, there’d be a penalty to pay. Daddy’s anger would likely lead to a more severe punishment than the injuries I’d just received.

Footfalls crunched gravel on the path.
Who would that be at this hour?
A glance revealed Asynn, Daddy’s newest page and pet, slowing down in her approach as she noticed my stance and the blood.

“Mistress Milleu, you’re wanted in your father’s den.” She looked closer at my leg and looked back at me with a smirk. “You’ll probably want to hurry. I’ll tell him you’re coming.”

Smart ass.

I didn’t say that. But she’d know I’d not directly disobey a summons from Daddy. No one in their right mind would, and being his only daughter didn’t grant me any immunity. It was the beast’s blood that ran with his, although his human ancestry was just as cruel. Chthonic monsters and greed-driven slave traders. Not much compassion in the genes either way, I guessed.

By the time I reached the dark cavern at the water’s edge where he spent most of his time, Daddy was fairly mad. The ground beneath me vibrated to the rhythm of his growls. It didn’t matter that I was his kindred; he expected prompt responses to his orders. Always.

The door was open a crack, probably left that way when Asynn went through because she thought I’d be close on her heels. I never knew my mother, but I suspect I’d inherited some of her defiance. Maybe he’d tell me what he wanted without my having to go all the way inside. His den suited him, but it made me nervous. The gray stone walls sweated, leaving salt trails behind as one seep dried and another began somewhere else. Damp and cool, it smelled of rotten ship hulls and moldering seaweed.

“Daddy, you called?”

The walls rattled when he yelled, turning my name into a threat. “Milleu! Now!” Of course.

Just peeking through the cracked opening wasn’t going to be close enough for him. I swallowed my distaste, slipped in and closed the door behind me. With as humble a demeanor as I could muster, I approached. He growled again and the desk he sat behind danced, spilling papers that Asynn frantically gathered while avoiding becoming a casualty to the flaying tentacles. The girl gave me a stern look as she got the rest of the papers and backed to the far side of the room.

Sniveling idiot. She’d be bait soon and didn’t even know it, ego too inflated to question the process.

“Yes Father, you called?” It wouldn’t do any good to attempt bravado. Using the more formal paternal title would stroke his tentacled ego. I knew his ways and open defiance was a straight ride to the pens, daughter or no. I scratched the back of my neck and waited. He’d want to think I was nervous, afraid even. Avoiding eye contact was the best course of action when he looked for a fight.

Daddy motioned impatiently to Asynn for the stack of papers. He grabbed the top one off the stack and shoved the rest back to her.

“This chthonic you’ve been working with, Theo. Is he ready yet to be traded?”

Answer too quickly and he’d think I lied. Take too long and he’d think it took me too long to think of a lie. I took a deep breath and fingered the uppermost welt on the back of my thigh.

“No father, he’s recently become irritable. I think it’s time–”

“Then make him ready. You’ve got one month. The Lady Bertain would like him to entertain her guests at her next Solstice party. She wants them to leave pleasured, not butchered, and she’s paid a hefty sum to see to it they do. Now leave,” he rumbled with slightly less decibels than when I’d entered. A good sign. It didn’t matter what I’d answered, he already had his response prepared. And I had my work cut out for me.

Before we could begin, though, I needed an assistant. It wouldn’t do any good at all to get myself injured in this training process.

“Father, one favor before I go, please…”

He looked at me and I glanced toward Asynn.

“May I have your page for my assistant?”

To see the color drain from her face was worth the risk I had taken. It was priceless. Even if he didn’t consent, the effect of my request on her was all I’d hoped it would be.

“She’s of age,” I ventured, enjoying her discomfort far more than I’d anticipated.

He rumbled, a low growl that indicated that he was ruminating the idea, probably considering his investment versus the possible gain the deal could bring. I smiled so that she could see, but quickly restored a solemn face for dear Daddy.

Asynn stood stock-still. Her skin had gone so white I wondered if she might fall to the floor at his feet any second to beg for mercy. If she made such a weak move, she would prove to be more stupid than I’d thought.

“Her loss is acceptable to me, on the condition that you return her to my service if she’s able. I’d prefer not to have to train another, but for a month I can get by without her,” he agreed.

“Come Asynn,” I said gently as I gestured toward the open the door. Still in shock, she placed the last stack of papers on the corner of his desk and walked with me toward the stairs.

“We’ll get started right away,” I told her. “There’s not a lot of time, and you’ve got a lot to learn.”

As soon as we reached the enclosure, Theo snaked out a tentacle in greeting, rumbling with excitement. He smelled her fear. His enthusiasm wasn’t a good thing, but Asynn didn’t know that.

“First thing,” I reached down and picked up his tentacle, resisted letting him pull me closer and showed it to Asynn.

“See these?” I pointed to the saucer-shaped suction cups. She nodded, still white but at least attentive. Still, she didn’t seem to want to engage.

“Here,” I took her hand and made her touch them. “If you’re not careful, you’re going to look like you’ve been shredded through a grater. There’s a way to do this. Watch.”

Wide-eyed she watched as I took the tip of his tentacle and sucked it gently. Instantly Theo relaxed and quit trying to pull me toward his pen. The sounds rumbling from inside were decidedly different now, and less threatening. Indeed, he was pleased.

“You try it now,” I passed it to her. She swayed and I thought she might really pass out. My robust laughter snapped her out of it and her eyes flashed.

I realized at that moment she wasn’t so different from the beasts.

They were all trainable.

“I can’t”, she said.

I resisted the urge to snap at her. The willful ones needed a gentle touch.

“The first time, you’ll watch me,” I told her. “The next time, we’ll do it together.”

“Victim of Victims” from
Shoggoth on the Roof

(Head Cultist)

Victim of Victims
Asenath! Oh Asenath!
I saw you sitting in that pew
Looked in your eyes and

Asenath! Oh Asenath!
Love you more than Cthulhu
Victim of Victims
Asenath! Oh Asenath!
I think that you would fit the bill
But since Cthulhu must come back! And attack!
I love one whom I must kill

When Deep Ones died for Great Dagon
That is for sacrifice
When Whateley reads the Necronomicon
That is for sacrifice too…
But of all my sacrifices, large and small
The most nihilistic one of all
Is when I finally thrust the knife inside
It will be inside … my bride …

(Asenath)

Cultist of Cultists
Paradise, oh Paradise
Here, look at me and raise your knife
Cut off my clothes and
Paradise, oh Paradise
You take me to be your wife
When you rip off that codpiece, yes!
I’ll be your sacrifice
When I, in my passion, finally get undressed
He’ll be my sacrifice too

(both)

But of all our sacrifices, small and great
The one that will finally see love mate
Is the one that blasts our sanity
I want you to marry me

- Reprinted courtesy of the
H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society

Whateley Family Portrait
by Kirsten Brown

Richard Baron
THE CRY IN THE DARKNESS

Mamie Bishop and I had been courting for a number of years before I proposed. I think that we would still be courting now had it not been for the incident involving that local misfit, Wilbur Whateley. The details of which are too vast and unsettling to go into here – only have it known that following his disappearance, a gloom seemed to settle over the town. Inhabitants unwilling to discuss the event hid away behind closed doors, avoiding each other’s gaze for fear that mentioning “the unspeakable name” of
Whateley
would bring some unknown terror lumbering to their door. For Mamie, who had visited their residence on past occasions, the effects were far more pronounced.

She became withdrawn, her skin affecting a sickly pallor. More than once she was found walking alone in the hills at night, her head tilted up to the sky as though she was searching for some sign or movement in the clouds. Naturally, I became concerned, and after ushering her back to her parents’ home following one of those midnight jaunts, I sat her down and poured out my heart. Racked as I was with worry, I would say, and do, anything in my power to help alleviate whatever concerns gave her cause to act in such a manner. Anything to have the Mamie I loved safe.

I will never forget the way she looked at me then.

Her face wet with tears, black hair raining down upon her brow, she raised her head and said, “A child, Earl. I want a child.”

Later, as she lay deep in sleep, I pondered over what she had asked. Her father, his advanced age bowing his back under his nightshirt, heard my concerns with little response, but allowed me to stay in their parlor for the evening. My thoughts, shared but still weighing heavily upon me, kept me awake. Could it be that a child would bring Mamie stability? I confess, her request made little sense to me, but perhaps having an affectionate and rosy-cheeked child to fill her time would keep Mamie’s apparent mental decline at bay. The depth of my love seemed to have no bearing upon her mood of late, though she oft confessed that her heart was mine alone. The arrival of our child would perhaps increase the recently tenuous bond between us and Mamie, the dear sweet Mamie that I had thought lost, would surface once again.

There was another issue that had to be confronted, though. Our courtship was no secret but a swell in her belly would inevitably raise questions in town. Unbetrothed women bearing children were not only frowned upon in Dunwich, but shown the kind of disgust usually reserved for the diseased and the mad. Through the years I had seen young girls, barely budding into womanhood, removed from their place amongst our population, sometimes by physical force. Confused and tearful, these unwanted mothers were forced to walk shamefacedly past as their neighbors, and sometimes their own flesh and blood, poured scornful epithets upon them. Those who did not leave peacefully were dragged from their homes and pushed out toward the hills in the middle of the night. I know not what befalls those poor creatures – only that I would not give cause for Mamie to be judged in the same manner. So it was that as soon as she rose from her slumber, while the morning mist was still low upon the ground, I knelt before my love and asked for her hand.

The wedding was a small affair. I suspect those who stayed away did so because of the ridiculous rumors swirling around, whispers which suggested Mamie was present at the death of that creature, Whateley. More than once I had heard the mutterings of gossipy old women as I went from shop to shop, purchasing as many items as I could afford, to create a glad air and a joyful space for our nuptials. Those that did attend did their best to keep our spirits high but I was glad when the day was over and we were able to retire. As we lay in what was now our cottage for the first time as man and wife, I remember thinking that this was a new start and with Mamie resting beside me, I dared hope that the troubles unsettling her were behind us.