Keyport Cthulhu
Page 18
Camille clapped her hands. “So you found a new spot where all the fish are?”
Her father shook his head. “Nope. Same spot I’ve been fishing all along.” He smiled at Camille.
“Is this a joke? What really happened?”
“I told you like it is.”
Camille wanted to believe her father, but it still seemed too incredible a tale. Her disbelief must have registered on her expression. Her father’s expression sagged.
“Come with me. I want to show you where it happened.”
“Dad, I have to take a quiz in the morning. And it’s late. I need to get some studying in now that I know you are safe. I couldn’t concentrate all day.”
“You must come. It won’t be long. It’s too amazing to keep it to myself.” Her father’s eyes twinkled like a little boy revealing a secret adventure to one of his friends.
Camille argued against going down to the docks at such a late hour. But her father insisted and so she relented. She knew she could badger him if it took too long, and she would force him to bring her home to study.
He placed the stack of money from the table into his pocket. His excitement left the trailer with him as began to walk without waiting for Camille. She grabbed her sweatshirt off the back of the chair, slipping on a little trail of water upon the floor. Camille glanced down at the streak of wetness and wondered where it had come from. The water dotted the floor from the couch to the door. She figured the water must have leaked from her father’s boots. It seemed like a lot of water for someone who only sat on the pier. Camille shrugged and closed the door behind her without locking up. They had nothing worth stealing in the trailer.
* * * * *
An icy gust of wind bit into Kenny’s face. It made his eyes water a little. He glanced at Camille as she tugged her sweatshirt tighter to keep herself warm. Kenny patted the plank of wood, indicating his daughter should take a seat on the pier. She hesitated for a moment and then lowered herself to the dock.
Kenny took a deep breath. The chilled air gurgled in his lungs as it mixed with the sea water. He felt a surge of excitement wriggle through his muscles. The time had come to share his adventure with his beloved daughter.
Kenny re-enacted the previous evening for Camille. He ignored her huffing and eye-rolling at his dramatic interpretation of the fortuitous event. A squish of water overflowed his soggy boot. He began to repeat the words he had whispered to the night.
“Dad, I get it. Now, can we please get home so I can study?”
Kenny continued to speak to the wind. He ignored his daughter’s pleas. The ancient one would soon be here. And he couldn’t wait to show Camille. As he continued repeating the words, the dark water in the creek began to swirl and splash along the banks. The wind gusted and then stopped almost instantaneously. The frigid night air became still and thick. Whitecaps along the surface grew larger, and the pier began to tremble as if a powerful engine chugged beneath the dock.
Camille jumped to her feet and ran for her father. The mark of terror was upon her face as she reached for him. But she never got close to his body.
An enormous wall of water shot into the sky, bringing the ancient one with it. Its towering, slimy visage looked like a wet effigy of some horrible scarecrow from the sea. Camille fell to the planks and screamed in horror. The suction of the creature rising from the depths of the ocean washed out the sound of her voice.
Twirling appendages, like suctioned octopus arms, rose before the scaly head which filled up the sky. Camille remained statuesque under the glowing red eyes which penetrated her soul. Tentacled arms plucked her off the pier, lifting her high above the place where she last stood.
Kenny murmured the words again and again. His eyes focused on the dark waters, oblivious of his daughter’s plight above.
The ancient one bellowed and sunk beneath the disturbed surface of the creek with Camille in its grasp. Water plunged around the gap where the mighty creature had just been. The whitecaps rose violently at first, before settling. The waves carried away the turbulence across the distance. An icy wind returned, tossing Kenny’s unkempt hair. His words trailed away into the night. The night became still once more.
Kenny shook with fright. His new master would always have that effect on him. And while he feared the ancient one, he respected its power and wisdom. He knew if he did the ancient one’s bidding, then he would be taken care of. His days of empty buckets would be finished. Forever.
He thought about his daughter and how much he would miss her. Kenny’s eyes watered. He knew Camille would come back to him someday. But she would never be the same. Kenny figured it would be okay. Camille would understand. In the long run, this would be best for both of them. No more worries. No more silly jobs or schoolwork.
They would both have one purpose. A true calling, which would prove to be more fulfilling than anything they had worked so hard for in this world. Camille would finally have a home. A place she belonged. Someplace she could really be proud of.
And time would be endless. For both of them.
Author's Notes
Keyport, New Jersey is a real town in central NJ, right on the coast. It is a small fishing town, with some great seafood from the Keyport Fishery, and some really old spooky houses.
I lived there for about two years in my twenties in a former funeral home that was definitely haunted. The town is like a postcard from the past, one of those places with some real personality. I grew up in the area (I'm a Belford boy) and we'd go to Keyport quite often.
And it was the perfect place to set a Lovecraftian series of short stories without having to make up too much. Trust me, I didn't have to stretch the truth too much…
I also want to thank my daughter, Katelynn Rosamilia, who was an invaluable assistant in the actual typing of "Ancient". I paced the living room while she typed my words, put up with my failure to tell her when a period was due and kept mixing up 'question mark' with 'quotation mark' when dictating. She is the best speech recognition software I've ever had, and she understands my Jersey accent.
During the story she even added a few suggestions and told me when a line didn't make sense. She's eleven and loves unicorns, so when she suggested the unicorn line and I added it she was happy.
During a much-needed break in writing (while swimming in the pool) we started talking about how funny a mash-up story with our favorite things (her unicorns and me loving Cthulhu) would be and "Cthulhunicorn" was born. We finished writing it in about an hour, Katelynn in charge of writing the unicorn parts. She saw how tough it is to write a story from scratch, then. Not too easy, is it?
The bonus story, "Rats In The Cellars", is one of my first attempts at a steampunk tale. When I wrote it (originally submitted to an anthology) I hadn't yet started the Keyport Cthulhu series, but you can see some of the ideas were already in place in my head. I decided to keep the story as-is, instead of changing it to better fit into the series. I think it is a great story that stands on its own, and I hope you agree.
And I want to thank Mr. Lovecraft, who scared the crap out of me as a teenager, and kept Cthulhu and the creatures locked in the crypts, inside the walls and under the dark deep sea in my head after all these years. I wanted to bring the Cthulhu stories out with my own twist, making them modern in a place that I knew well, and a place that a reader could walk down Broad Street in Keyport one day and say… 'Yeah, this place is cool, and creepy, and ancient.'
And so ends the Keyport Cthulhu saga… or does it?
It was my intention to write five short stories that could stand alone and also tie in together to form a complete full story. Together they'll be collected into a Keyport Cthulhu eBook and print version and run over 50,000 words, which I felt was more than enough to tell this story.
But then a strange thing happened… Keyport would not go away. Even after finishing the last line and sitting back from my desk I knew this was only the beginning to the real story… I already have an idea for another tale, this time
most likely a novel length story I'll begin writing sometime in 2014… I hope you'll want to come back and read more about this quirky and dangerous little fishing village on the coast of New Jersey… but stay out of the cellars, please.
Author’s Notes – Expanded Edition
Remember that 2014 novel idea I had? Still not working on it. Alas, other things come first like contracts and owning a podcast group (Project Entertainment Network… you should look it up. Some great podcasts on there).
Instead, I gave the original edition of this book an overhaul of sorts. Thanks to Chuck Buda and his passion for the short tales I wrote as well as the tie-in shorts (because I can never truly stop writing tales set in Keyport or of Cthulhu) we had a chat at a convention and the idea was born for him to write me a story.
Chuck wrote two, both of which are included in this expanded edition.
We also talked about someday doing a proper collaboration about a prequel to Keyport Cthulhu.
After all… there was a lot of story and history well before the events you just read…
I imagine if Chuck keeps the thought in my head long enough and he’s as passionate about a prequel as he was about this re-release, you’ll see it sooner than later…
Armand Rosamilia
March 2017
Armand Rosamilia is a New Jersey boy currently living in sunny Florida. He has a bunch of releases out and hopes to keep adding more until he stops. Simple as that. He loves meeting new people, so find him on Facebook or on Twitter (@ArmandAuthor) or his website, http://armandrosamilia.com
Katelynn Rosamilia Katelynn Rosamilia is a sixteen year old sophomore born in Red Bank, New Jersey and currently living in Florida. She has a passion for writing and has one novel published as well as a short story. She began writing at a young age and has loved it ever since.
Chuck Buda is a horror author from New Jersey. Growing up in Matawan, Chuck used to go to Keyport to eat fish and shop for Sunday school shoes. During his high school years, Chuck frequented some weird locations in Keyport.
Armand Rosamilia’s Keyport Cthulhu became a sort of homecoming for Chuck. He quickly fell in love with Armand’s mythos and setting. And getting the chance to be a part of this WORK OF ART is an honor, for which Chuck will forever be grateful.
You can find Chuck Buda anywhere throughout the state of New Jersey. Or you can follow him on Amazon: amazon.com/author/chuckbuda
The original Keyport Cthulhu cover, also by Jeffrey Kosh