I lived in a cabin by the huge sea; wild, untamed and free. Often the waves washed the sands of the beach; here, especially here in this place by the sea, Nature could utter its wildest moods, which would eventually mean the Old Ones were near...
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One day, there was some tapping at the door while I was clearing the dust from my mini-statues of the Egyptian god Nyarlathotep (which I believed was buried here, right in front of my cabin!) Cautiously I walked towards the door while the tapping continued, I opened the door; it was the Black Man of the European witch-cult, pure black being; not like the Africans but black like the whirling vortex of chaos, though here he had a face, which I believe is custom for the Black Man. He came to warn me, warn me of all to come, of such desperate times (the whole story can be read in my other fiction-stories/poetry), not for what was to come now this very day but rather the future seen from here.
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After the Black Man left, I felt an urge to swim in the sea. I am not sure why but I put on my green jacket before I left (sure it's outside but who for God's sake does need a jacket swimming?), somehow I felt that this very jacket once belonged to the goddess Yidhra and therefore, somehow, I felt like it gave me some unique strength. I swam so far into the sea until I felt something touching me. It was slimy, rubbery, and it glided just past me. It was a huge tentacle attached to an even huger beast. It was not an octopus, but it sure looked like it. It was some sort of greenish-blue in color, so huge a deity I hadn't spotted before. Just as the tentacle grabbed me and lifted me up in mid air in front of its head, I noted that this very being was the Fish-God Dagon, or better said Father Dagon. It looked at me with its curious eyes, then it swallowed me alive!
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