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A snippet from my Nano project
Nov. 22nd, 2016 04:28 pmvia http://ift.tt/2fOiyCU:
It’s a Lovecraftian thriller. I’m really proud of this snippet: meet Cthulhu.
It has laid there in the depth for billions of years. Cthulhu had come waking when the world was made, when the star- their star- had been white and dancing and so utterly alien. It had slumbered as it had cooled, settled into comfort and the middle age grind of turning hydrogen into helium and the world had cooled. And now- the star was right again. Hot, blazing, turning the world into living blood and fire, and the living beings within in nothing but living dust, watching, waiting, breathless in the airless world.
The doors open, something within stirs.
It is too large to possibly fit inside the building. A long claw scratches out of some great, forgotten door, tearing and parting the liquid ground and cutting a rivulet deep and wide enough for the Nile, the Amazon, those long-gone deities of water, to flow into and be lost. A tentacle long enough to coil about the world cracks and cracks, searching from a break into the swift-melting stone. A great eye the size of an ocean opens, with a tearing sound like birth of a new moon.
And something, far away, beyond the dying world and the dying star and the whole solar system slowly slipping into its dotage, something looks down at them.
The God, the no longer Dreaming God, turns eyes or something like eyes back up to meet that gaze, lifts itself in beatification from Its bed, Its city, Its tomb. The world around It bursts like a dandelion clock, Rudy flying into his component parts to join those thousand seeds of possibilities, flying into the void to grow.
It’s a Lovecraftian thriller. I’m really proud of this snippet: meet Cthulhu.
It has laid there in the depth for billions of years. Cthulhu had come waking when the world was made, when the star- their star- had been white and dancing and so utterly alien. It had slumbered as it had cooled, settled into comfort and the middle age grind of turning hydrogen into helium and the world had cooled. And now- the star was right again. Hot, blazing, turning the world into living blood and fire, and the living beings within in nothing but living dust, watching, waiting, breathless in the airless world.
The doors open, something within stirs.
It is too large to possibly fit inside the building. A long claw scratches out of some great, forgotten door, tearing and parting the liquid ground and cutting a rivulet deep and wide enough for the Nile, the Amazon, those long-gone deities of water, to flow into and be lost. A tentacle long enough to coil about the world cracks and cracks, searching from a break into the swift-melting stone. A great eye the size of an ocean opens, with a tearing sound like birth of a new moon.
And something, far away, beyond the dying world and the dying star and the whole solar system slowly slipping into its dotage, something looks down at them.
The God, the no longer Dreaming God, turns eyes or something like eyes back up to meet that gaze, lifts itself in beatification from Its bed, Its city, Its tomb. The world around It bursts like a dandelion clock, Rudy flying into his component parts to join those thousand seeds of possibilities, flying into the void to grow.
