It was a warm summer day, the sun shone high in the sky, the birds chirped loudly in a jubilant chorus, and I hated it. I holed myself inside my gloomy apartment. I lived in a one-room studio apartment, I was sparse in my decorations, all I had was my bed, my closet, and my kitchenette.
I used to go to college, I wanted to become a history teacher once upon a time. At some point, I stopped going, around the same time I bought the book. Near where I live is an antique store with a rather large amount of old books. I only went there once but when I went I felt an almost magnetic pull to the book. It's an old tome with yellowed pages. The cover is made of a deep crimson leather with black writing of a language I couldn't read up until now.
I had spent months learning about the book and how to read its contents. Everything from shady message boards to buying strange things from the dark web. My efforts paid off, slowly but surely, I could decipher the text of the book.
The title was, direct.
ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO GLANCE UPON THE CURSED PAGES OF THIS TOME OF YORE.
Standard stuff really.
on the first page was another warning.
GUESS YOU CAN'T READ THEN? OR ARE YOU JUST STUPID? LAST CHANCE, NEXT PAGE IS FUCKED UP, CLOSE THE BOOK NOW AND CONTINUE YOUR NORMAL LIFE.
Not so standard stuff. I flipped the page.
DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YA. WELL LET'S GET INTRODUCTIONS OUT OF THE WAY. MY NAME IS WAYLAND N'ORGATH SEL'IAT I AM THE BOOK YOU ARE CURRENTLY READING.
What the fuck? What book is named Wayland? I turned the page.
THAT'S THE GUYS SKIN WHO MY BINDER IS MADE OUT OFF, MY OLD MASTER HAD A THING FOR FLAYING PEOPLE WHO FAILED HIM.
"what the fuck?" I said audibly. Can this thing hear my thoughts? I turned the page again.
YEP, IM A MAGIC BOOK MADE FROM THE FLESH OF CULTISTS WORSHIPPING OLD GODS. I CAN DO A LOT MORE THAN JUST READ YOUR MIND.
So the Necronomicon?
NOPE, THAT BOOK NEVER ACTUALLY EXISTED. LOVECRAFT THOUGHT THE NAME SOUNDED COOL. BUT THAT'S NOT A BAD DESCRIPTOR OF WHAT I AM. SO WHY'D YA PICK ME UP, KID? YOU DON'T LOOK LIKE A LUNATIC.
Well, mostly morbid curiosity.
SERIOUSLY? YOU SPENT MONTHS OF YOUR LIFE LEARNING A DEAD LANGUAGE FOR MORBID CURIOSITY?
....Well, when you put it like that.
*OKAY SO, I CAN DO A LOT OF WEIRD SHIT, TEACH YOU MAGIC, ALLOW YOU TO PERCEIVE THE VEIL THAT OBSCURES YOUR PETTY HUMAN SIGHT, I CAN ALLOW YOU TO CROSS THE ASTRAL BRIDGE TO MEET THE ELDERS AND VIEW THEIR TRUE MAJESTY. WHATEVER YOU WANT KID."
I thought for a long moment. Can you help me get laid?
YOU'RE FUCKING WITH ME.
Nah, I'm almost thirty and a virgin. As evident from our current conversation.
I CAN MAKE YOU A LITERAL DEMIGOD AND ALLOW YOU CONTROL OF YOUR FEEBLE REALITY, AND YOU JUST WANT TO GET YOUR DICK WET?
Yes.
THIS SOUNDS LIKE A FLIMSY PREMACE TO AN ERROTIC STORY BECAUSE THE AUTHOR WAS BORED AND WANTED TO WRITE TENTACLE PORN.
What?
NOTHING KID, SO I CAN GIVE YOU THE POWER TO CONTROL SOMEONE AND MAKE THEM DO ANYTHING YOU WANT
Nah I'm not the rapey type.
WELL, THE OTHER OPTION IS TO SUMMON MY MASTER, SHE LIKES YOU PINK FLESHY THINGS.
You said she flayed people.
NAH, THAT'S MY OLD MASTER, HE WAS A BASTARD. MY NEW MASTER IS LESS KILLY, AND KIND OF A NYMPH.
Well that sounds perfect.
IF YOU SAY SO KID, JUST KNOW SHE GETS ATTACHED EASY AND DOESN'T LET GO.
I can deal with clingy, so what do I need to do?
WELL, I NEED THIRTY FIVE LITERS OF WATER. TWENTY KILOGRAMS OF IRON. FOUR LITERS OF AMMONIA.ONE AND A HALF KILOGRAMS OF LIME. EIGHT HUNDRED GRAMS OF PHOSPHORUS. TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY GRAMS OF SALT, TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY GRAMS OF NITER, ONE HUNDRED GRAMS OF SULFUR. EIGHT GRAMS OF FLUORIDE, AND THREE GRAMS OF SILICON.
That's alot of stuff. I don't even know where to get half of it.
GOOD THING IM FUCKING WITH YA, ALL I NEED TO DO IS CONTACT HER AND USE A LITTLE BIT OF YOUR BLOOD AS FUEL. SHE MIGHT BE NAPPING BUT SHE'LL COME.
I hope she cums.
HEARD THAT, NOW PRICK YOUR FINGER AND PRESS IT INTO MY PAGES.
A small circle of runes appeared on the page,and an arrow pointing to it, and a message that said, 'blood here please'. This book is kind of a dick.
IF YOU HAD YOUR SKIN FLAYED AND TURNED INTO A SENTIENT BOOK YOU'D BE MIFFED AS WELL.
I shrugged, well, I was here. I took a small sewing needle and pricked my finger, a small glob of blood seeped out and I pressed it to the small circle.
I waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing was happening.
GOT TO GIVE HER TIME, SHE'S ISN'T SOME OMNIPOTENT GOD, SHE HAS NEEDS TOO, SHE'LL GET MY MESSAGE IN A BIT.
Well, guess all I Could do was wait.
I pulled out my laptop and began mindlessly browsing. Hey Wayland, what's your master's name?
WELL, IN YOUR TONGUE IT WOULD BE NORATH'SHO-KALIM. BUT SHE GOES BY NORA TO HER CULTIST.
Interesting. I started looking her up. What I found wasn't exactly appealing. She looked like a huge formless monstrosity with thousands of limbs and even more eyes.
WOW SHES LOST A LOT OF WEIGHT, SHE LOOKS NOTHING LIKE THAT NOWADAYS.
What does she look like now?
SORRY KID, IF I WERE TO SHOW YOU HER TRUE FORM YOUR EYES WOULD BLEED BLACK AND YOUR MIND WOULD SHATTER.
Well, worth a shot. Guess I just have to wait.
And wait I did. A few hours passed. I decided to talk to Wayland for most of it, he's a pretty nice guy once you get past him being a book made of human flesh.
So what exactly is Cthulhu?
UGH, THAT ASSHOLE. HE'S A SELF CENTERED PRICK IS WHAT HE IS, ABSOLUTELY ZERO CARE FOR HIS CULTIST. ALL HE DOES IS SLEEP ON HIS COUCH, HE NEVER CLEANS UP AFTER HIMSELF, AND WORST OF ALL HE TOLD NORA SHE WAS A FAT BITCH LAST TIME WE WERE AT ONE OF AZOTHOTH'S PARTIES.
What a dick. So how many of these etities are there?
TONS, IF THERE'S AN ASPECT OF HUMAN LIFE THERE'S USUALLY A GOD OR DEMIGOD WHO CONTROLS IT OR FEEDS OFF OF IT.
What's Nora preside over?