The Shoggoth Who Loved Me

by K X Douglas

  “What is that?”

  “I’m bringing a date to the feast.”

  Professor Carter slowly facepalmed.

  “I know, I know,” Peter said. “I was looking for an excuse to go there that wasn’t suspicious, and she’s a practicing wiccan.”

  “So she believes in magic and other supernatural things to begin with?” Professor Carter asked.

  “Yes. In addition, she was one of the witnesses to the mi-go attack on the weekend.”

  “Well, that certainly makes your job quite a bit easier, doesn’t it? At the same time, I’m assuming she knows nothing about you?”

  “No. There’s only one person besides you who knows the connection between my identity as Peter and my true nature, and he’s one of my neighbours. He managed to catch a glimpse of my transformation fading.”

  “If something goes wrong at this festival, you’ll probably be revealing your true form to dozens, if not hundreds of people. That’s not something that can be covered up easily. You show up on film, don’t you? Or else you wouldn’t have any form of identification.”

  “Yeah, unfortunately. What are you planning on doing for the festival? It’s on a Tuesday. Will you have to cancel any classes that night?”

  “Thankfully, no. I’m thinking of donning a disguise of some kind, so that if I end up doing something particularly stupid it won’t get traced back to me and the college. Tadhg and Silas, thankfully, do not have to take such precautions.”

  Peter suddenly found himself imagining Professor Carter wearing a wig, glasses, and a fake moustache. He successfully fought the urge to laugh.

  “By “something stupid”, do you mean like killing someone?”

  “Yes, precisely. In order to stop whatever ritual they have planned, in the off chance that it is secretly a ritual to summon that creature that appeared in your dream, we may have to kill some human beings.”

  I’ve never had to kill a human before. Would I be able to do it? I think I could, but I’d rather not. If the police happen to show up at the feast, everything will probably go to shit.

  Peter let out a long sigh.

  “I know, Peter. But if this creature is one of the Old Ones, that could mean it could easily destroy the city and kill everyone in it at the very minimum. It would be like a human stomping on an ant colony. There isn’t much that humans would be able to do against it, but you might have a chance.”

  “You said you managed to kill Hastur, though. With TNT. How did you obtain enough TNT to kill an Old One?”

  Professor Carter leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “I don’t remember in detail. Tadhg works in mysterious ways. This was back when we were in America, so TNT was slightly easier to obtain on the black market than it is here. But we really don’t want to employ explosives in an area with a large number of people. It would definitely be mistaken for some sort of terrorist attack.”

  The next few days were uneventful, as there were no parties to attend, no alien attacks, and mid-term season was still over a month away. Peter attended classes as usual.

  When the time came to prepare for Mabon, Peter received a text from Victoria. It was the Saturday before, and Peter wasn’t sure what preparations he would have to make, if any, beyond bringing weapons in case of a mi-go attack.

 

 

 

  Peter groaned.

 

 

  Do I know anyone I can ask for tips on clothing? I suppose I can ask Eric and Lachlan for help. Lachlan in particular probably knows a thing or two.

  Unfortunately, he had neither man’s phone number. He decided to simply walk over to their dorm after class and ask for help.

  When he knocked, Eric answered.

  “Hey, what’s up?” he asked.

  “I need your help. Or Lachlan’s, either way. I’ve got a date coming up and I need to buy new clothes. We’re going to a feast on the riverbank and apparently you’re supposed to dress up, but all I own is outfits like this one.”

  “Yeah, I can help. I’ll ask Lachlan if he wants in. Just a moment.”

  Eric walked away. A few minutes later, he returned with Lachlan.

  “Sure thing, man,” the latter said. “I’ll help you pick out some clothes.”

  The shopping trip was uneventful. Peter bought two outfits that actually looked different from the rest of the clothing that he owned, mostly owing to the fact that they were different colours.

  ***

  When the day came, Peter heard a knock on his door. He answered and saw Victoria on the other side. For once, she wasn’t wearing black; her gown was an earthy red colour. She was also covered head-to-toe in jewellery of all sorts, including a large silver pentacle amulet hanging from her neck.

  Peter, on the other hand, was wearing slacks, a t-shirt, and a flight jacket.

  “I see you’ve dressed for the occasion,” she said.

  Don’t notice the gun, don’t notice the gun, don’t notice the gun…

  “I bought this outfit just for tonight,” he replied. “I, uh, didn’t know how I should dress so I went for something simple.”

  “Well, I’m glad you cared enough to go clothes shopping, at least. Maybe if we go out for Samhain you can wear something fancier.”

  “When is that?”

  “The end of October.”

  They got into Peter’s car; it was an old used car that his parents had bought for him when he “turned sixteen”, or rather when he was able to convince the government that he was at least that old and able to drive. Peter turned down the radio and typed the park’s location into his GPS.

  “Is this your first time attending one of these festivals?” Peter asked.

  “Oh, hell no!” Victoria said. “I’ve been attending sabbat celebrations for just about two years now. I try to make every one of them.”

  “So what kind of stuff do people do for Mabon?”

  “Well, there’s going to be a big feast and probably some live musicians. Lots and lots of alcohol, mostly wine. People have booths where they sell stuff. A few people will do some spellwork, and there’s probably going to be a really fancy altar set up in the park for people to worship at.”

  Fuck. I hate that I might have to destroy the altar tonight if I want to prevent any summoning.

  Since it was after rush hour, the drive was quick.

  Dozens of tents were set up across the park, many of which were dedicated to selling arts and crafts. There were people playing mandolins, violins, bagpipes, several different kinds of drums and other instruments.

  Peter and Victoria danced for a while. She had no issues moving around in the long gown that she had worn, despite being outdoors on uneven ground.

  At one point, they came across a man that Peter could have sworn was Professor Carter, but he didn’t dare say anything. He couldn’t tell for sure if the man was wearing a disguise to hide his identity or if it were just somebody else. Tadhg was nowhere to be seen.

  He did not, however, see anyone wearing a robe and mask like the people that had appeared in his dreams.

  A vast table was set out along the riverbank, covered with an elaborate tablecloth. It was heavily laden with food that represented the season; multiple roast geese, various root vegetables, pomegranates, and loaves of fresh bread. The food was accompanied by apple cider and various wines.

  They sat at the table with dozens of strangers and gorged themselves. Peter had no real need to eat, not in the same way that humans did, but he partook in order to maintain the charade. To him, the food was food-flavoured.

  “For most people,” Victoria said, “this is the best part of Mabon. It’s like a second Thanksgiving before Thanksgiving, a
nd you can spend it with complete strangers.”

  “You make it sound like it isn’t your favourite part,” Peter said.

  “Well, it’s close. But my favourite is the rituals. I love watching them. The people in charge of the big festivals like this one especially do some really cool shit.”

  After they were finished eating, they walked over to the ritual grounds in the centre of the park. An altar had been set up inside a pentagram; it was a large stone slab draped with an embroidered cloth upon which several candles and a chalice were set. The ground around the altar was covered in feathers from various birds.

  “Interesting setup they have here,” Victoria said. “There are a few motifs I’ve never seen for Mabon, such as the feathers.”

  “Is that really weird?” Peter asked.

  “It’s a bit weird. Wicca is really strict when it comes to practicing it the right way, so I’d never expect someone to try and mix it up, so to speak.”

  That isn’t suspicious at all.

  Suddenly, Peter laid eyes on a group of people who were gathering around the altar; they were all wearing identical robes which looked similar to the ones worn by the person who had appeared in his dream. They formed a circle around the altar, carrying lit torches. One person stepped inward from the circle and approached the altar.

  His hand moved down to his belt, where his pistol was concealed, to make sure that it was still there. He only brought one extra magazine, which meant that he had to make every shot count.

  It was then that he regretted never going to the firing range to practice. In all likelihood he wouldn’t be a very accurate shot without making some adjustments to his shape, which he didn’t want to risk doing in public.

  “Hey, Victoria, why don’t we get out of the way?” he asked. “It looks like they’re getting ready.”

  “Oh, right, sure.”

  They retreated back to the table; very few people were sitting there now. A half hour later, the Mabon ritual began.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The sun was just beginning to set. The orange light of the sunset gave all of the autumn-coloured decorations in the park an almost ethereal tinge. Sitting on the ground outside the pentagram, people began to gather on one side of the ritual circle so that they could watch it without having the sun in their eyes.

  The circle of people in robes began to converge on the altar. One person approached it and used their torch to light the candles on it.

  Peter and Victoria watched the ritual in silence. Eventually, she leaned on his shoulder, and he reciprocated by putting his arm around her. All the while, Peter kept an eye on the person who was leading the spellwork; he was ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice if he saw anything suspicious.

  It appeared as though nothing suspicious would happen, which made Peter all the more paranoid.

  The ritual started with guided prayer, led by the man at the altar. Everyone else was silent, and many bowed their heads. Peter caught a glimpse of the man through the circle of people that surrounded him and saw that the man was reading from an old leather-bound folio. Again he checked to see that his gun was still there.

  Victoria seemed to sense his unease, as she lifted her head off of his shoulder and squeezed his hand.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  Peter bit his lip.

  “You know what happened to Isabelle on campus that night we were playing ‘Strip, Fuck or Die’?” he asked.

  “Not exactly, but I’ve heard some weird rumours. Why are you asking about this all of a sudden?”

  “Part of the reason I decided to come here was to prevent a similar incident from happening. Don’t get me wrong. I wanted to spend time with you and get to know you better, too.”

  “How exactly are you going to prevent a similar incident from happening?”

  “By disrupting the ritual if it starts to resemble any form of summoning magic.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Look, you follow Wicca; you already believe that magic is real, right? I’m here to prevent that guy from casting something that could get people killed.”

  For several seconds, Victoria said nothing.

  “Alright. How are you going to do that?”

  “I’m not quite sure yet. Worst case scenario is I have to kill the person who’s leading the ritual and destroy that book he’s holding.”

  “Jesus Christ, Peter!”

  “Like I said, worst case scenario! If I can just find a way to interrupt the ritual, I can have a look at that book and determine if it needs to be destroyed or not.”

  Suddenly, Peter felt his phone vibrate.

  “Hold on,” he whispered as he pulled it out of his pocket. “I’ve sort of been expecting a message. This might be an emergency.”

  He saw that he had received an email from Professor Carter.

 

  Putting his phone on silent, he slid it back into his pocket.

  “Sorry about that,” he whispered. “False alarm. Phone’s on silent, now. Looks like the incident we’ve been anticipating might happen at a later date. Maybe on Samhain.”

  “What exactly is supposed to happen?” Victoria asked.

  “Did you see the thing that attacked Isabelle that night?”

  “Wait, thing? What do you mean?”

  “Isabelle was attacked by…I guess you could call it an alien. A creature from a faraway planet that has an interest in capturing and experimenting on human beings. We think that someone, sometime in the future, is going to use one of these rituals as a cover to summon a lot of them.”

  “Magic I can understand, but aliens? What the fuck?”

  “Yup, aliens exist. There are lots of them.”

  “And this hasn’t gone viral, because?”

  “Because they don’t show up on film for some reason. In any kind of recording of them, it looks like they’re invisible.”

  “Is there anything that I can do to help?”

  “Can you create a distraction?”

  “Sure! What are you going to do in the meantime?”

  “I’ll explain later.”

  “Um, alright.”

  Peter ran off into the nearest copse of trees. Once he was hidden, he began to construct a new disguise which he was reasonably sure resembled no existing person. He chose a middle-aged man, adjusting his build accordingly and even increasing his height by a couple of inches. After discarding his jacket to make the illusion more complete, he returned to the table and began watching the ritual again.

  His concentration was broken by the sound of gunfire. Everyone began to panic; some ran for what cover they could find, others fell to the ground, still others ran around like decapitated chickens.

  It came in bursts, and Peter surmised that it was coming from the other side of the ritual circle. He sprinted over to see what was happening, not caring that he might be struck by an errant bullet.

  Well, I guess I have my distraction, now.

  By the time he reached the other side of the ritual circle, several people were dead, having been blown to pieces as if by a very powerful shotgun.

  “Gods-damned cultists!” a voice yelled. “Where are my bloody gnomes?!”

  It was Tadhg. He was wearing a tactical vest over his usual ensemble, as if he were expecting to get shot.

  “Tadhg!” Peter yelled. “What are you doing?”

  Tadhg immediately turned and aimed his shotgun at Peter.

  “Who in the bloody hell are you and why do you know my name?”

  “I’m a friend of Solomon’s! I was working with him to investigate this festival, to make sure that it wasn’t a cover for cult activity! We came to the conclusion that it’s just a normal festival! You didn’t have to kill anybody, Tadhg!”

  “Bullshit I didn’t, they’ve pulled the wool over your eyes!
Now away and shite, I’ve got cultists to shoot!”

  Dammit, I don’t know whether to turn into my shoggoth form or just jump in front of him and take the bullet.

  Peter broke out into a sprint and jumped in front of the next person that Tadhg aimed at with his gun. The man fired, and Peter felt the slug collide with his torso. He absorbed it into his body as quickly as possible, trying to make it appear as if it had entered him normally.

  He landed on his feet and drew his gun, aiming it at Tadhg.

  “Put the gun down, Tadhg. Don’t make me shoot you.”

  I can’t believe I’m about to shoot him with a gun that his own son gave to me.

  If Tadhg was perturbed by Peter taking a shotgun blast to the chest without bleeding a single drop, he didn’t show it.

  “A human shouldn’t be able to stand after taking a slug like that! What in the bloody hell are you?!”

  Peter slowly advanced towards Tadhg, never lowering his gun.

  “We’ve met before, Tadhg. I helped you fight the gnoph-kei by the river. I promise you I’m here to help, but you have to put the gun down.”

  “What gnoph-kei? What in the hell are you talking about?”

  Shit, does he not remember? Was he drunk or something?

  Peter thought back to that night. He tried to remember how Tadhg acted, what he did.

  Oh, right.

  Peter was now close enough to press the barrel of his gun into Tadhg’s forehead. Tadhg responded by pressing his shotgun into Peter’s chest, right over the area where he had already been shot.

  “Do you not remember?” Peter asked. “You and Solomon were investigating some disappearances at a nightclub downtown. I encountered you both by the river, where you had tracked a gnoph-kei that was killing people.”

  Silence ensued as Tadhg wracked his brain, trying to remember the incident.

  Come on, come on! I know you were stoned that night, but you have to at least remember some of it!

  Peter felt an impact against his chest as Tadhg fired off another slug. It sent him staggering backward, and he almost dropped the gun.

  “I don’t know why the first shot didn’t take you down, but I haven’t met anything that didn’t die after being pumped with enough bullets!”