Cthulhu - Something in the Mud (short story)

by Nikolai Bird

  ***

  There were questions asked by those in the kitchen but Jack ignored them. “Ready!” he called out instead. There was a moment’s hesitation. Then he heard the front door open and gunfire erupting from the other side of the house. Jack opened the door and peered out just in time to see the lumbering shape of a monstrous creature vanish behind the building.

  Lightning struck again and Jack ran through the rain, round the house and to some steps leading down into the house. He ran down them and yanked at the door at the bottom. It was padlocked! Looking round there was nothing. No tool.

  Up the steps again, he slipped and fell, but quickly got to his feet. More gunshots. Inside he heard screaming. What to do? His gun! It was in the car. He ran round the corner and saw the beautiful Bentley. It had been shunted aside, the window cracked, but to his relief the damage looked superficial. He ran to it, not daring to look for the creature. Grabbing the door handle, Jack yanked it open and fumbled for the Webley. Gun now in hand, he turned to run back, but before him loomed what he could only describe as a monstrous worm like creature with a head of tentacles surrounding a round sphincter like sucking mouth. Lightning struck again and the creature screeched, now diving towards him. Jack fired the gun, but he knew it was hopeless.

  The stench was horrendous, like rotting seaweed. The creature rose from the mud just beyond the raised hard standing of the property and arced down towards him, tentacles flapping and slapping as they reached out to him.

  Jack fell back against the car and fired again but all went black as the tentacles enveloped him and he heard the sucking of the thing’s mouth yearning to feed. The tentacles, slick and ghastly tightened about his body, one seeking his mouth which Jack bit hard but was unable to stop the intrusion from working its way down his throat. Lifted into the air, Jack struggled but to no avail.

  Suddenly he was yanked sideways, black cold blood covered his face and he was released. He fell and heard the gun shots and shouts of the Colonel and Ashton another man. More gunshots and Jack hit the ground and tried to vomit up the tentacle. He scrabbled at it with his hands and pulled hard. It came up and he gagged for air, half choking on his of sick. The tentacle had been shot clean off and now lay wriggling on the wet ground. Looking up he saw the creature lashing out at the Colonel, Ashton and Morgan who it would seem had joined them. Jack had to give him some credit. Most men shrivel into the foetal position on seeing one of the enemy, but Morgan was throwing rocks at the thing, distracting it. In fact he did a better job that the guns as the mud spawn suddenly lunged and grabbed the poor fool by the head, lifted him into the air and sucked. To Jack’s horror he saw Morgan disappear into the creature’s mouth head first to become no more than a swelling in its trunk like throat as he was swallowed whole.

  “Go!” shouted the Colonel. “Go now.”

  Jack got to his feet and ran past them back to the basement door. There, he shot the padlock which flew apart and he pushed the door open. Inside was utter darkness. Again the house shook. The Colonel and Ashton must have either been overcome or retreated back to the house. Jack found himself in a black corridor.

  Now that he looked again, ahead, he could just make out the outline of another door at the end of the corridor. He suspected a candle was lit beyond. He held his gun before him. Jack was soaked, freezing and shivering. Reaching the door, he tried the handle. It was not locked and so he pushed it open, ready to fire, ready to run.

  “Jack?”

  He span round and took aim. There in the outside door was the silhouette of a woman.

  “Don’t shoot, Jack. It’s me, Olivia.”

  “Olivia? What are you doing here?” Was she mad? The creature could have killed her.

  “I came to see what you are doing.”

  “Well… stay there. Don’t move. I have to see what is down here.” He felt he should say something about Mr Morgan, but now was not the time.

  “There’s nothing down here.”

  “Let me check and then I’ll get you back into the house.”

  Jack turned again and pushed past the door. What he saw made him sick to the stomach. Here was indeed foul play for Jack had discovered what had become of Kaiser, the second wolfhound.

  The floor was slick with the dog’s blood. Someone had strung the poor creature up by its hind legs, then slit its belly open to allow the intestines to fall about it head, lolling tongue and bulging eyes. The blood dripped into a large copper bowl which was overflowing with the stuff. The bowl stood upon a wooden table. Next to this was a single guttering candle and a book. Marks covered the table, symbols of things Jack did not understand, but the very sight of them was sickening as though they were not meant for human eyes.

  Suddenly Olivia was behind him.

  “Get back,” he hissed.

  This must be it, the summoning. A quick glance at the book told him the book was old. The leather cover was worn and had the words Nocte Vocationem cut into it. The dog moved! It faintly whimpered. The poor thing was still alive, but only just. Jack raised his gun to the creature’s head. He could not let it suffer any longer.

  “There’s a good boy.”

  Just as he tightened his finger on the trigger, a silver flash of light caught his eye and a knife slashed across his gun hand. Jack dropped the gun and turned to see Olivia with a long kitchen knife in her hand.

  “Sorry you had to get involved, Jack.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t let you kill the animal. Father is still alive and he is promised to the Great One.”

  “Great One? Olivia, you cannot mean you are behind this?”

  “Not I. My purpose is to serve,” she said calmly with a smile. There was an odd light in her eyes, a madness of some kind. Jack had seen this before. She was possessed, controlled or hypnotised. In the Odd Jobs, Jack had seen that light, and always there was a greater mind behind such eyes.

  “Jennifer?”

  “Her name is Sister Genevieve Brodeur. She came to me after the war. She told me what Father had done and showed me a greater purpose. She speaks to the Great One. She is my mother now and the Great One is my new father.”

  “Cthulhu,” whispered Jack.

  Olivia smiled even as the house shook from a new onslaught by the creature beyond. “His child has come to take us all home to the depths of R’lyeh.”

  The gun was on the floor. Olivia, knife in hand, watched him. Jack edged to the other side of the table, took his handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it round his wounded hand. Olivia glanced at it and Jack struck.

  With both hands, he lifted the table by the edge and hurled it at her. She screamed. The candle went out and darkness engulfed them. Jack dove to where he last saw his gun, but could not find it. Scrabbling about, he instead found the knife. She must have dropped it.

  Before he could get back to his feet, she was on his back, scratching, screaming and pulling his hair. Jack threw himself back and hit the wall. Olivia let go and Jack turned on her. Fumbling for a grip, she tried to gouge his eyes, but he landed a hard slap on her face and heard her crumple to the floor in silence.

  Now he reached up for the dog, found the ropes and cut them. Then he groped the floor again, found the book and bowl and dragged the lot towards the exit. He could hear gun shots and screams from the upstairs. When he got to the steps, he saw the massive form of the spawn devouring the very house, its head lunged deep into the building, tentacles searching for prey.

  “Take them!” screamed Jack as he reached the top of the steps and held out the bowl and dog. “Come on, you bastard. Take them and go.”

  The creature pulled back from the house’s innards, tentacles thrashing the night sky, mouth sucking. Jack threw the items towards the sea, away from the house. They landed in the mud. In the darkness, Jack could just about make out the form of the dog move again. He had not been able to put the poor blighter out of its misery but the spawn would surely see to that soon enough.

  Now Jack r
ushed back down to the basement. In the darkness he found Olivia, seemingly unconscious, but breathing. He lifted her up and carried her out. The creature was devouring the dog with horrific slurping sounds, tentacles thrashing the mud. Jack carried Olivia back into the house where he was met by the Colonel and Ashton.

  “What happened?” demanded the Colonel. “She vanished.”

  They laid her down in the living room with a cushion under her head. Dunberry was still on the settee, eyes closed, pale.

  “I found the summoning,” said Jack. “She attacked me, sir.”

  “Olivia?” The Colonel looked shocked.

  “Yes, sir. The coven got to her in France.”

  “No,” said the Colonel shaking his head. “The swine!”

  “I think it’s leaving, sir,” said Ashton from the window.

  “No!” came a wild scream. It was Jennifer. She had been hiding in the shadows and now she threw herself at the Colonel with a knife in hand. She was so fast and so wild that nobody had time to react. The knife plunged into the man’s shoulder, both of them tumbling to the floor. Now on top of him she stabbed again. Jack fumbled for the gun in his pocket, Ashton moved to grab her, but before either could aid the Colonel there was a gunshot.

  It came from the pale Reverend Abel Dunberry who lay in the settee, smoking revolver in hand. Jennifer slumped forward, dead.

  “Like mother, like daughter,” was all Abel said before closing his eyes again.

  ***

  Both the Colonel and Reverend survived. Olivia was put into a home where she could rest. Jack returned to the city. Reverend Dunberry had come clean and admitted that he had been the man who shot Genevieve Brodeur during the war. He had orders from Bellatorum Dei to send her back to hell. Since the war he had been tracking the coven, and suspected an attempt would be made on the Colonel’s life.

  The whole incident had been reported in the local papers as storm damage. This was often the case. The war is hidden, but it goes on.

  ###

  About the Author

  Nikolai Bird is a lead designer for a global web application company. When he is not designing, he is writing. When he is not writing, he is illustrating and has to date illustrated four children’s books. He also spent many years as an artist selling paintings worldwide, but his passion has always been reading and writing. To find out more about Nikolai go to https://nikolaibird.blogspot.co.uk/

  Other books by this author

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  Malspire: Dark Seas

  Brass’ Oath

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