Oh, how vividly I remember that dreadful night still yet, I fear that I may not soon forget it either. And how could it? Perhaps upon the regaling of my ill fated encounter, it shall soon depart the haunted walls of my mind.
The gibbous moon hung in the pitch black sky, the shimmering stars danced languidly amidst its shining light and sleep had finally come to ease my weary, burdened mind into its sweet, forgiving embrace. Yet, within the fine wrappings of the long sought after peaceful slumber, I was snatched away from the shallow pool and thrust wholly into the world of waking men and creeping things. A clatter of fine dishware upon the tiled floor a single flight below had roused me from that which I longingly sought for night after tiresome night. I looked upon the remarkably blemish free visage of my one time lover and now long termed wife and could only imagine what blissful ease it must be to come by my ever chased mistress and find great difficulty in leaving her tenuous embrace. There was another clash, another clatter. The burden of being both the sole inhabitant stirred by the unnatural commotion as well as the predominant patriarch of this humble family weighed heavy on my shoulders and stirred me from the comfort of the known bed chambers and cautiously creep into the yawning darkness of the home I was driven to protect.
Each step forward drew me deeper towards the unknown danger laying in wait for me just beneath the very floor I carefully trod upon, my mind racing with the endless possibilities of what would soon fill the dark, empty spaces I saw before me. How the mind wanders, and the heart follows closely behind in their maddening quest for understanding, to see the picture as whole without all the dreary pieces. Amidst my own growing fear and spiraling anxiety, a small moment of clarity came to the surface of my tumultuous and ever shifting mind, the uniquely male dominant feeling to verify the wholeness and security of those places under one’s own charge. Their door creaked inward, allowing the small illumination emanating from the inferior, dim light at the base of their shared wall to eke its way past myself and cut a narrow sliver into the bleak darkness I had thrown myself into. My mind took in the subtle movement of the covers on each bed to signify their safety and that they were well nestled within the bosom of my fickle mistress, thus filling the sharp anxiety over them that had grown and metastasized within me. Assured of the safety of my two boys, my hand wrapped around the familiar wooden shaft of their shared ball bat, a toy they both enjoyed during the summer months now becoming the only means of true defense for myself as well as them. The darkness swallowed me again, and yet I did not feel the fear nor the growing anxiety as I once had, perhaps it was from my new armament that I held ready while beginning my final descent to meet the possible horrors that coiled ready to strike or perhaps it was the knowledge of my small family's safety and that it was I who was the only one at any definable harrowing risk. Despite what the cause may have been, I stood silently on the last landing, our quaint kitchen only around this last corner with my heart pounding relentlessly in my ear like the droning ambience of a great machine.
Quiet fears crept in as I listened to the ongoing commotion just beyond my final haven, there was no doubt to be held of there being multiple intruders having their own way with our hard-earned goods, for I could easily make out the sound of their bare feet slapping unmistakenly upon the kitchen floor. I could hear them talk to each other, their voices shrill and distinct spoke in a language I did not know. In that moment, I did not know what it was I intended to do when meeting face to face with these assailants, nor do I believe any man knows in the final few moments before the intense snap of action. To ease my thrumming heart and steel my mind for the coming confrontation, I took a deep breath and ever so slowly counted upwards to the number three.
It all happened in an instantaneous flash of a heated moment where all fear fled from me, leaving only distilled, aggregated adranalyn and anger. I flipped the lights on, bathing the normally pristine kitchen in a flood of harsh white light showing in great detail the horror I had been dreading all this time, the unknown was unceremoniously thrust into the brightness of the known! And yet, even now as I recount this tale, I am at a full loss of what it was that my eyes had seen and my mind can not truly grasp. When the full brightness of our recessed incandescent lighting washed over the carnage of what remained from my wife's confectionary prowess, it revealed a squat, round beast faintly reminiscent of a statue I once saw of the smiling Buddha but only if their head was replaced by some half formed thing cephalopodial in nature, it's limbs terminated not in pronounced digits but of robust and grasping tentacles, thicker and more maneuverable than those found near its large bulbous black eyes. The thing greedily groped and grabbed at the thick, moist, brownie delights we had enjoyed so well only a few hours before, there were several smaller versions of the thing shuffling and hurrying around, climbing into the cupboards and searching every nook and cranny for any more to devour and enjoy, all the while the larger one sat proudly on my counter top, consuming our left over deliciousness. I could only watch the sight before me, a mix of shock and revulsion stilling my hand and planting my feet firmly upon the floor. For a second, or perhaps an eternity, the thing looked upon me and our eyes locked, and in theirs I saw into the very depths of the universe and held ever so briefly all the knowledge of it with in my mind, perhaps if events unfolded differently I would still yet be looking within those vast and unknowable depths. I was brought back to the moment, to the present sight of repulsive horror that sat prodigiously before me as if it had always been there and instead I was the intruder, when it hissed and screamed at me, sending a spray of spittle, mucus and bits of brownies towards me.
Stunned by the sight combined with the audacity of such a manner of horrific cretin to so ravishly steal such a well made dessert, I screamed back at the beast loud and reverberating. I felt my yell accumulate from a long forgotten line of men in peril and ancestors on the verge of death coalesce inside my chest and force it's way, scratching and clawing up my throat and hurl itself at the concentrated source of my fears and overwhelming anger. As my primal yell still echoed in my own ears, I took a large step towards the thing with my children's bat raised high, ready to unleash the full might of man down upon its undoubtedly soft and pliable head. Unbelievably the thing’s large eyes grew even wider in surprise at my challenge and I saw a fear unlike what I had felt up until that very moment flood its bulbous and tentacular face. It squealed like a hurt pig, rolling and clamoring to get away from me and my weapon of guided fury, and fell to the cold linoleum floor, knocking the pan of brownies down with it. It was more pathetic than it was horrific to me then, writhing there on the floor, it's small, useless wings flailing in a vain attempt to lift its grotesque body from the sorry state as three of the smaller clones pushed and pulled to right their master up, the rest swarming the spilt confectionary delight in an attempt to steal from their larger brethren. Through no small effort the beast regained it's footing, wrapped both of its tentacled limbs around the baking pan, and ran through the small dog door built into the exterior kitchen door, and like a parade of hastened horror, the other members of the wood be burglar brood followed their leader's moist path, all the while making that slap slap slapping of bare feet on a hard surface.
And that is my tale, as wild and unbelievable as it may be. Even stranger than my own experience is that it was not wholly unique to my own family. After my encounter, I conversed with several of my neighbors, many of which recalled similar encounters while only a few looked at me as if I belonged in the asylum. It was my oldest neighbor, Old Man Howard who shed the most light on the event, something he seemed to be quite versed in.
“So, you saw him, did you? Oh yes, I undoubtedly know of what you are speaking of. You see, many years ago, when this neighborhood was still small, and most was still farm land, there was a sort of cult to take up residence in the old Phillip’s place. It's long gone now, finally torn down a few years ago. At any rate, this cult was enamoured by the Old Ones and despised the rest of humanity. So, they took it upon themselves to bring forth one of those hellish spawn with the goal of hastening the world's utmost end. They were more than a little saddened by the fact their ancient and terrible God stood only knee high and was more of a minor nuisance than any kind of world ending monstrosity. So, the cult disbanded, and moved far away from their failures, allowing the Not So Great Lord Cthulhu to run wild and free through the neighborhood. If you don't mind taking an old man's advice, set something nice out for him once a week, if not, he may return and wreak havoc with your pets’ minds.”
And so, I sit on my back porch, a fresh made apple pie sitting at the bottom landing, as we both wait for Little Cthulhu to sneak around again.