Cthulhurotica by Cody Goodfellow, Silvia Moreno-Garcia, Jennifer Brozek, Ahimsa Kerp, Carrie Cuinn, Gabrielle Harbowy, Don Pizarro, Madison Woods, Richard Baron, Juan Miguel Marin, Maria Mitchell, Mae Empson, Nathan Crowder, KV Taylor, Andrew Scearce, Constella Espj, Leon J. West, Travis King, Steven J. Searce, Clint Collins, Matthew Marovich, Gary Mark Bernstein, Kirsten Brown, Kenneth Hite, Justin Everett Read Free Book Online Page A

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

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    She became withdrawn, her skin affecting a sickly pallor.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.