If God Doesn't Show

by R. Thomas Riley

  Tentacles slithered out of the floor and wrapped around some of the soldiers. Hulking beasts followed, pouring out of the collection of doorways.

  The beasts—children of the Old One—were a brood of flabby, slimy pale green flesh. Bodies writhing with seaweed and barnacles, and they stood as big as elephants, even as they dragged themselves with their tentacle limbs, which were covered in razor sharp barbs.

  Acolytes, the twins informed Blount. Non-human worshipers of Cthulhu. They will stop at nothing to protect him, the High Priest of the Outer Gods. They are the followers of Dagon the sea-god, Nyarlathotep cosmic terror of the air, Lord of the shadow birds. They must stop us. They must assist their priest in bringing back the Outer Gods. These gods hate their human worshipers. The cult does not know this. They will not survive the rising.

  Screams and wails filled the courtyard as the team clashed with the unreal. A thunderous hail of bullets rained down on the room as bones cracked, limbs ripped from bodies, and blood and slime spilled across the floors.

  Blount leapt into action, while the twins held back. He rolled into the midst of human and beast and fired. A monstrous aberration squealed as he shot its gossamer eyes out, black fluid running thick down its face. It tumbled, and Blount helped it along with a swift kick, sending it crashing down in a cloud of stone, dust, and muck.

  He turned to see Baxter spray a stream of fire with his M4, nailing a beast as it stormed towards him. It staggered, slowed down, trying to resist Baxter’s attack, but in the end the hot lead proved to be effective and it collapsed. Baxter continued firing anyway. He ran up to its head and turned his weapon point blank, then shot and shot.

  “Baxter!” Blount yelled, realizing the man was losing it and letting down his guard.

  With his back turned, another creature slung its tentacle around Baxter’s legs and pulled him down hard. Its barbs bit into his flesh and ripped, blood spraying through the air. Despite the pain, Baxter did not give up. He pulled a serrated hunting knife from his belt and slashed the tentacle until it let go. A shriek pierced the battle, as the creature recoiled and Baxter followed up by blowing the thing away.

  Blount watched in bewilderment as Baxter jumped up and ignored his wounds. The solider punched himself in the head and began to babble nonsensically. “Get it out of there! Get it outta my head!”

  He turned and blew Private Amanda Fletcher away while she was holding off a beast of her own. The bullets ripped through her back and spine, and she crumbled into the tentacles of the creatures, which promptly began to devour her.

  “Baxter, what the hell are you doing?” Blount cried as he raced towards the man.

  He launched himself through the air and plunged into Baxter. The two men went rolling across the floor. Baxter began laughing maniacally, his gaze burning with insanity. The two scrapped on the floor, their guns flying from their grasps, but that didn’t stop Baxter. He wrapped his hands around Blount’s throat and squeezed with all of his strength. A few punches to Baxter’s face got him off Blount and leveled him to the floor.

  Recovering, Blount made it to his feet and reached for his gun. Baxter was on him again. This time, with his hunting knife drawn. It slashed across Blount’s chest, leaving a gash. The Black Rock agent howled as he collapsed to one knee. Baxter laughed hysterically as he licked the blood off his blade.

  “Sick bastard.” Blount spat as he raised his gun and fired.

  Baxter stumbled backwards and fell through one of the cracks in the floor. His laughter still echoed as he fell to his death.

  Blount stood erect and caught his breath. All around him, his team fell to the hordes of monsters as they continued to pour out of the floor and doors. Screams deafened his ears, and he shot blindly at anything that moved.

  He turned to see Saylors and Anders being devoured, bodies ensnared in tentacles, flesh pulled from their bones to be stuffed into salivating maws filled with teeth. He also saw that the twins were next.

  “No!” He ran to their side, firing upon the creatures as they surrounded them. The girls had become too weak to even summon a bubble of protective energy. “Get away from them. Get away!” He bashed through the wall of sea-creatures, using a running kick to crack the tentacle legs of the nearest one, crippling it enough for him and the twins to make an escape.

  “Blount,” the twins said. “The stairs trimmed with gold. They lead up from the courtyard.”

  The three ran up a stairway into a pocket of darkness that stopped at a wall. There was no doorway.

  “This is,” Maya began.

  “An illusion,” Nina finished. “We must believe.”

  “It is creating this to confuse us.”

  “We can pass.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, a crowd of hungry beasts gathered and dragged themselves up, slowly.

  “I trust you,” Blount said, as he closed his eyes and pushed on.

  * * *

  They rested, but heard the howls and calls of their pursuers not far behind.

  “We can’t stay girls,” Blount warned. “They’ll just keep coming, and there’s an endless supply.”

  “We know,” they replied. “Come, we have sensed an exit from this place. Your destiny awaits.”

  “What do you mean? Have you broken through...”

  “Not exactly. Trust us. This way.” They started down a dark tunnel as Blount followed. He fished a flashlight from his gear and shed some light on their journey.

  The tunnel glittered with phosphorus fungi as it twisted downward, somehow growing tighter and smaller as they went. He hoped they knew where they were going. Claustrophobia set in, and his chest tightened as his breathing grew short.

  It was nearly too small for the three of them to fit into now, and Blount was just about to speak up when the twins screamed. Aghast, he watched as they fell to the ground, blood seeping from their nose and lips.

  “What’s happening?” He went to them, taking hold of their hands.

  “It is over!” they cried. “We are l-l-losing t-t-this fight. We know all we can now, and must share with you before we leave this life.”

  “No! Fight it. You are the best of the best. You can fight this thing.”

  “We can no longer fight….it is the Old One. It is Cthulhu. He is waiting to return. His consciousness is not here…not in this city. It is in another place…waiting to join its body. The body sleeps here, the soul is…is...is…”

  They placed their hands upon Blount’s face and the scene flashed in his mind. He caught a brief glimpse of the most massive, monstrous form he had ever seen. The entire city rested upon the beast itself—a mountain of bloated flesh and tentacles, a patchwork of gray and green flesh rippling with networks and colonies of sea life and organisms forming one body, one shell. It slept…soulless.

  The scene shifted and time melted, returning him to an ancient era where he witnessed a group of primitive people. They gathered around a bonfire, writhing and dancing. Above the fire, staring down at them, stood a great statue of Cthulhu himself—a grotesque figure resembling a cross between an octopus and a dragon. A pulpy head with a face full of feelers crowned an abominable body with frayed wings.

  The dancers reveled in the presence of the statue. They worshipped it and sacrificed to it. Madness took each one of them, their eyes enflamed, their faces twisted with maniacal grins. Their ritual culminated with them dragging a naked woman into their circle. They wasted no time in shedding her blood and tearing her open with a multitude of daggers.

  Blount felt the bonfire’s heat, smelled the burning flesh. He felt their bloodlust frenzy. It was palpable to him, as if he were right there. The fear of their victim filled him, along with a chattering that invaded his head, just as it filled the dancers’ minds.

  Like every cult after them, they craved the same thing—the return of their Lord Cthulhu. The very definition of the Old One, for Blount understood now that this beast truly was an old one. He ruled the universe, and this planet before man even existe
d. All of these monstrosities did. Called down by Lord Cthulhu to rule and plunder. A city was built for Cthulhu to rule, after calling down his brethren from the cosmos, but something went wrong. The city was unstable. It sank beneath the ocean, trapping the old one in a watery tomb.

  All of his followers knew it by name. R’lyeh, the corpse city. When at last the city rose from the ocean’s depths, Cthulhu would live again and pave the way for the original rulers of the universe to return.

  “No wonder the world is being turned on its ass,” Blount said. “The cult that has survived all these centuries is getting it ready for them.”

  One final scene formed in the ripples of his mind, showing him a young woman, dormant, naked. The vessel. She carried the spirit, the consciousness, of the Old One itself.

  You cannot harm the body while it rests here. They informed him. It would mean nothing. It cannot be harmed. You must destroy the spirit. You must go to the vessel. Find and destroy it before it awakes and joins the body with its soul. If this is allowed to pass, our world will be no more.

  Blount saw the vessel of the Old One’s soul, and it was none other than Casey Archer. The name floated into his consciousness. He’d never laid eyes on the girl, but he knew her full history in a flash. She slept waiting, waiting for the final sacrifice that would unleash the Hell inside her and return Cthulhu to its body.

  You must go, Blount. Leave this island, find this vessel, and destroy it. It is your destiny. We have finally penetrated the mind while the vessel was distracted, but now…we are done.

  I will not leave without you. Blount said. I need you both. I can’t do this without you.

  You must do this, or we are all lost. We are done in this life. Do not worry. We will return in another. Our spirits will continue to guide you on this journey. We can go no farther. It has finished…us…

  Their hands slipped from his face, as they seemed to collapse into themselves and close their eyes.

  “Maya! Nina!” There were tears in Blount’s eyes. “Girls…”

  A white energy rose off their lifeless bodies, shimmering as it floated towards the ceiling and burst a hole in it when it reached the top. Rock and debris rained down upon Blount while the sunlight streamed in. He realized now why the tunnel was so small. He got off his rump and climbed out the opening the twins created for him.

  He crawled out onto his belly and realized he was in the island’s wilderness again. A little ways behind him was the outskirts of the city, with its hellish walls and towers.

  “Thanks, girls,” he whispered as he raced his way back to the waiting chopper, a new mission burning inside him.

  Chapter Eight

  Fallout Shelter, Main Hub

  Outlook, Montana

  Sam Veleska gaped as shock washed over her. She couldn’t believe what Archer was doing, especially to someone so high up among the remaining members of the government.

  “Madame Secretary, you’ve got ‘til about the count of five.” Archer said sternly as he stared down the barrel of his pistol, right into Carling’s widened eyes.

  “This is insane!” Patricia Carling yelled. “Have you lost your mind?” She used the table to protect herself.

  A hush fell over the room.

  “No, not yet. We know you did something to him, and we know you are in on all of this somehow. We can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

  She looked around the room, staring at the crowds of shocked and distraught people, as if looking for someone to come to her aid.

  “Waters would never do something like that,” Palmer said. “Never! Something did it to him. I know the man. He was the best. He would never have given up. Not on us—not on the world.”

  “He knew too much, didn’t he, Carling?” Archer said. “How’d you do it? Some sort of power of suggestion? That’s quite a trick you got there.”

  “This is crazy. You’ve all gone mad. I haven’t done anything to Waters. I am a member of the US government. Thaddeus, listen to me…”

  Thaddeus. Thaddeus!

  The way she said his name. The inflection in it. He recognized that voice. Through the panic, through the fear, there was that smooth and smug tone. It was her! She was the voice that had taunted him in last year’s calls, when Casey first disappeared and when he thought about ending everything. God he could never forget that call. She was behind all of it…the cult, the island…Casey.

  “You!” Archer leapt over the table at her and crashed upon the floor. His pistol slid from his hands as he clasped her throat. “Where is my little girl? Where is Casey?”

  Carling flailed and squirmed under Archer’s weight, her face reddening as the air cut off from her lungs. Finally, Archer realized his actions and pulled her up.

  “You are responsible for all of this. The cult, the kidnapping… Where is she?”

  A twisted smiled curled on Carling’s face, as Big Jesse rose behind Archer and smashed the table across him. Archer crashed to the floor as bits of table sailed through the air. A seething Jesse began kicking him, and Carling used this chance to run. She made a dash towards one of the hallways, before Palmer tackled her to the floor.

  Jesse followed up by grabbing hold of Archer and tossing him against the nearest wall. He felt his back crack, and watched as the big man rubbed his head and muttered to himself.

  “The chatter…” Jesse howled. “What the hell is that noise?”

  He stormed toward Archer, who thrust out a leg and caught the obese man in the gut. Jesse stumbled backwards into his cooking area, crashing into a collection of pots and pans. A cleaver found its way into his hand and he jumped up with it.

  By the time the big man reached his feet, brandishing the cleaver, Sam quickly pumped a few slugs into Jesse’s gut, stopping him cold. Shrieks pealed from the crowd as Jesse fell dead. Sam went to Archer and extended her hand.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, as he turned to see Palmer restraining a frantic Carling.

  “It’s over Carling. You hear me?” Archer stormed over to her and put his recovered pistol to her head. “You assumed leadership of the cult when I killed McBain, didn’t you?”

  “So smart aren’t you, Thaddeus!” Carling screeched. “You’re already too late. Our God has returned, and you will all be nothing but dust. The final sacrifice is at hand. It’s already too late.”

  He took her by the throat. “You’ll never get to see your God if you don’t tell me where Casey is. Take me to her.”

  Archer turned to the crowd. “Everyone! This is who is responsible for bringing the end of the world. This woman and her group have unleashed the evil that has destroyed your families and friends. She is why our country is burning down around us!”

  Carling gasped as the crowds of people focused on her. Their hatred coalesced in a mob mentality, and the hatred burned in their eyes. Archer whispered into her ear, “You tell me where she is, or I turn you over to them.”

  An eerie silence filled the room. Carling looked into his eyes. “Alright, I’ll take you to her. Don’t let them take me, please.”

  “Fine.” He turned to Palmer. “I need you to drive us back to the chopper. We need to be in the air ASAP.”

  “You got it, but one request?”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m with you all the way. You go, I go. I owe it to Waters to see this to the end.”

  “As you wish. Bring lots of firepower. There’s bound to be lots of dead out there, and who knows what her cult has in store. Isn’t that right, Carling?”

  “They will not interfere. This is between you and Casey now.”

  “I’ll bet it is. If one hair on her head is harmed, no God in your twisted pathetic mind will be able to save you from me.”

  They pushed her past the crowd, to the secured doors. Palmer paused to give instructions to a few of his trusted comrades.

  “Sam,” Archer called her to attention. “I want you to stay here and hold down the fort.”

  “I thought we were in this togeth
er, big guy?”

  “You know we are. But I need someone who knows the story to stay safe. In case we don’t return, someone needs to tell the surviving world just what happened. You know as much as I do. Besides, whatever other intelligence comes through, it’s bound to come through here first. You should stay.”

  “No way, Archer.”

  It’s too late Sam… The God is here. He’s here. Might as well kill yourself…and take Archer with you. Samantha did her best to ignore that strange nagging voice in her head.

  Archer pursed his lips and stared at Sam for a few moments. “I’m not talking you out of this, am I?”

  Sam smirked and shrugged. “Nope. Besides you need a pilot.”

  “Fine,” Archer relented.

  With that, Palmer pulled open the door. It gave a groaning clank, and they vanished into the night.

  Part III

  “Endgame”

  Chapter One

  Island in the Pacific

  Blount fought his way through the jungle, arrived at their landing sight, and discovered the Blackhawk waiting silently for him.

  “Yeah, right…” he said as he started for it. Pulling the door open, he found the cockpit empty. Drops of blood spattered the console, and a pool of crimson formed on the floor.

  A dark shadow formed in the cockpit then disappeared. Blount stepped out of the way as the pilot’s body fell towards him, plunging to the floor. The corpse’s hand trembled, so Blount placed his foot on the pilot’s back, holding him down while he looked for the shadow. The corpse squirmed underneath his boot, moaning and scratching with stiff fingers.

  Blount spotted the shadow rippling in the air in front of him. He lifted his gun and shot with a steady hand. A shriek filled his ears as the shadow dissolved. He released his hold on the pilot and climbed into the cockpit, then looked over the console and its controls, checking to see that all was intact. After pulling himself into the seat, he closed the door.