Black Sea (Steinbeck X Lovecraft)

Chapter Three

   I looked at Lovecraft for a long moment, trying to articulate any sort of plan, but it was no use. I had no idea what was coming.

   "Steinbeck, is there a problem I'm not aware of?" Francis finally noticed my distressed expression, and I looked up at him.

   "It's... Um, it's nothing..." I stuttered.

   "Well, wipe that look of your face and pay attention." He ordered. "Because I have a very important announcement." He smiled deviously. "An ex-member of the Port Mafia has agreed to meet with us today, and he's proved to be very knowledgeable about the inner workings of the group, which should allow us to better avoid them and their little demon boy in the future." He explained.

   "Really? How did that even happen?" Mark asked in surprise.

   "It's simple, really, he came into my office and told me he was an ex-member, and if he isn't, well, he's an old man in a room with the most powerful members of the Guild. We'll be fine." He went on.

   "What's this guy's name?" Lucy asked.

   "Something foreign, like Izreath, or Ozriel or something." He tried to remember.

   "Azothoth..." Lovecraft looked up at our boss.

   "Yes, that's it, how did you know?" Francis wondered.

   But then, the door opened, and in walked an old man. With long grey hair and a red vest over a button up and a navy blue scarf. His face was a familiar stoney coldness, with greyish skin and tired eyes. He looked like his son.

   "Ah, speak of the devil." Francis turned to the man, but the man didn't react at all, he was staring directly at Lovecraft, with angry black eyes.

   Lovecraft stood up from his seat and backed away from the table, his eyes locked on Azothoth.

   "Lovecraft... You alright." I stood up and reached for him, but he was still frozen, moving backwards and glaring at the old man.

   "John, what's wrong with him?" Francis asked in concern. I looked at him and sighed.

   "T-that's not an ex-mafia member, boss." I told him, and he scowled in confusion, looking back at Azothoth. "T-that's... Um, that's-" I tried to explain, but I was cut off.

   "Father..." Lovecraft's voice cracked as he spoke. Everyone was already worried, but hearing that, they were afraid.

   "Hello, son." The strange man stood with his hands on his cane.

   "Son? What the hell?" Francis looked between Lovecraft and his father. "What is the meaning of this?" He growled.

   "It has been so, so long since I've seen you, my child. It is time to come home..." Azothoth took a small step closer. "Come back to Xoth, so you can fulfill your purpose." He put his leather gloved hand out to Lovecraft.

   "No." Lovecraft said bluntly. "I'd rather not..." He added. Azothoth cocked his head in confusion, looking unblinkingly at his son, refusing to acknowledge the others in the room.

   The man approached the table, which stood between him and Lovecraft. Mark and Louisa both huried out of their seats as the old man continued walking as if the table wasn't there.

   "It is not your choice to make, my son, you will come home. We will be family again." His voice got deeper. To our collective horror he began walking through the table, his legs warping like a thick fog.

   "What the... Actual fuck..." Mark mumbled.

   "You have played long enough with these little bugs, Lovecraft." He said.

   "Don't... Don't come closer." Lovecraft scowled. "I will not return to that wretched place." His upper lip twitched in anger. "I will not give up the life I've made." He growled lowly.

   "Life? What good does life do if all you spend it on is this trivial 'job' of yours?" He scoffed.

   "This 'trivial' life is better then every second I spent with you or anyone in our disgusting bloodline." He gritted his teeth and stared daggers at his father. "Here, I can breath, I can move, I am untethered and allowed to exist for myself. If you had your way I would still be chained to that rock you called an alter." His back hunched and his knuckles went white as a vein popped out of his neck.

   "You are a foolish child, Lovecraft, soon you will appreciate all I have done for you." The old man reached out and his arm became a mass of red tentacles that ended in leech-like mouths full of sharp black teeth. They wrapped around Lovecraft tightly but the touch of them was just enough to tip Lovecraft over the edge.

   The fight that broke out was unlike anything I'd ever known. I thought I knew the full extent of my partners abilities, but it would seem that he was far stronger then I had thought. He and his father became a writhing mass of indescribable matter and it was then I realized I was alone, the others had fled.

   I was frozen, watching these two God's destroy each other over and over only for their bodies to regrow in seconds. I couldn't tell who was who anymore, I looked into the brawl and all I saw was horrid abominations of flesh, tissue, slime and even more grotesquely evil things. I didn't even register how dry my eyes had become from my unblinking stare. I couldn't even hear the prayers leaving my mouth over the sounds of horrid gurgling screams.

   At some point I think I fell onto my ass. Then I fainted. I was glad not to suffer anymore if that imagery. When I awoke, I was in my bed, but I wasn't alone.

   Sitting criss-cross, looking down at me was Lovecraft of course, and at the sight of him I screamed in terror and fell out of bed. I trembled in a ball and cried. He touched my shoulder, leaning over the edge and I flinched violently. I was a wreck.

   "I-I... I'm so sorry, John... I never wanted you to see that... That side of me." His low voice spoke. I looked up at him through my fingers and saw his face contorted in sorrow. He was sad and remorseful and clearly still in pain. Azothoth was stronger then him and was able to leave wounds not easily healed.

   I stared at him, and slowly started to breath. I regained my composer and came back to my senses.

   "I should have never came here, to you... I should have leapt out the window the second I smelled him." Lovecraft lamented. "A small glimpse of my true form can destroy a mortal mind, I-I am glad you're still alive." He went on as I climbed back onto the bed.

   "No... Lovecraft... It's ok, it was, um... Self defense." I shushed him, and he looked at me like a sad puppy.

   "I'll leave now." He stood, but I grabbed his tattered sleeve.

   "No.. Stay..." I pleaded, and he looked at me in confusion. "Here, in... In my bed." I smiled warmly, and I could see in the darkness Lovecraft's cheeks turn green, the same color as his blood.

   "Why?" He asked.

   "So I can protect you." I chuckled. Lovecraft looked confused still, but hesitantly he slithered under the blanket with me.

   "You are... strange, John." He told me. To which I laughed.

   "That's why we're friends."