Dunwich is the home of more than just Cthulhu himself. In addition to the First Selectman several of his fellow Great Old Ones inhabit the borders of the township. For instance, several of Dagon’s descendants inhabit the various lakes, ponds and swamps that overgenerously hydrate the area. As I’ve often mentioned I am adjacent to one of these swamps and from time to time one of its inhabitants sojourns through or near the grounds.
Today I was in the west field collecting the scattered remains of some cattle that a shoggoth must have devoured there when I heard the sound of tree trunks creaking and cracking under the strain of some horribly massive object forcing its way against them. As I watched I could see some enormous white pines toppling over far off in the distance. I cautiously made my way to the location where the trees had fallen and I saw a terrifying sight. One of the Deep Ones, possibly Dagon’s oldest child was just finishing off the shoggoth as a small meal. It was of course eating it alive and its victim was changing form and letting out the most horrifying sounds ever heard by a human ear. Well, except for that time Kamala Harris laughed at one of Biden’s jokes. That was worse.
When the Deep One was finished with its meal, it belched thunderously and the air was filled with a sulfurous fume that nearly finished me off before the wind changed direction. Then it hauled its titanic bulk out of the mud and battered a path back into the deeper end of the swamp where it disappeared below the surface with a sickening sucking sound.
Later when the sun had set the foot prints began to glow with a sickly yellow phosphorescence and any creature, insect or amphibian that touched those glowing patches jumped away in pain and rapidly died. And I happened to witness later that night when an enormous gas bubble broke the surface of the swamp and a yellow glowing fume drifted up. All the leaves above the pond immediately shriveled up and fell into the water. I guess the shoggoth was a little greasy even for one of Dagon’s kin. I wonder if they make Alka seltzer in Great Old One size.
Luckily (or unfortunately) I had my camera with me during the event and I had the presence of mind to capture the great creature returning through the haunted wood.
I intend to send this photographic evidence to the Department of Cryptozoological Studies at Miskatonic University where I studied under the eminent dagonologist Clyde Crashcupp. With his decades of study and razor-sharp brain he’s sure to earn at least a Nobel prize with this evidence. I may have to lend him a tux. He’s kind of a hermit and wears a rope to hold his pants up.
Well, I’d better get back to my chores. There’s a family of ghouls in the neighborhood and I need to get the fences fixed before they wander by.