Dweller In The Deep: Cthulhu Rising

"We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far."

- H.P Lovecraft

"In cursed lands doth he speak! Cthulhu Fhtagn; he will awaken, arise from his watery throne in deep R'lyeh!" His voice was growing cracked and hoarse. The Voodoo Priest had been shouting his warnings all day.

In the village in which he lived bewitched people were arriving in place of those who left. Or fled.

Soon it would be Christmas, and a dark one at that. Ithaqua would fly above them, Shudde M'ell beneath, or so the Priest cautioned.

The terrain was bedecked in snow. Smoke drifted from chimneys. A cheery scene, and yet evil found refuge here. The chapel announced the season with bells, but somehow they seemed mournful. The invocations that emitted from within, traditionally a mix of catholic prayer and African chants, were different this year:-

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn"

Over and over again, until the weak minded that heard it were taken away where they could not hurt themselves.

A blue tit fluttered past the frenzied Voodoo Priest, and he silenced as if it brought an omen with it. It flew to a branch and landed there. Suddenly it launched itself upwards, leaving only a feather drifting towards the ground...

From up high it dropped at an alarming speed, swooping in for a fatal blow. In an instant, the bird's wing, leg and neck were broken, skull fractured, hip shattered, against the Voodoo Priest's skull. They were both dead. An opposition was erased.

Cthulhu is awakening. He is probing the mind of a blue tit. It is working! The bird is dive bombing the voodoo Priest! He retracts from its brain before the pain reaches him.