After the sudden passing of Woodrow, I announced America as part of my dominion the same day.
Killed, Like an animal in his own home, by those who betrayed his leadership, thinking they have right to rule by the notion that their logic was greater than his actions.
I felt saddened, The one who killed him was brought to justice, yet that would not bring him back.
Arrogance— That is what lead to his undoing, not that of his own; He was a true selfless man who took the burden of being the face of the war.
The one who had the same color of blood, The same internals that made them tick, dared to kill the one who tried their hardest to defend them from the Europeans.
It disgusted me. From all worlds I have seen, From those I fed from their fabric, Nothing prepared me for this, Nothing could have.
Spewing my absolute hatred for their actions, not toward a specific person, but man’s nature, it did not only shake the foundation of the surface, but the depths as well.
They came from the sea and started to walk nude through the farmland of Deale.
Finned, Scaled, Their eyes huge and black as void, Their physique mimicked that of man yet were misshapen to adapt to the waters below.
The horde was small, Some would walk on all fours with their webbed hands and feet, yet some try to clumsily imitate the one who was in front of their march who strode with a mix of fury and determination.
The citizens met their gaze, hurrying inside, grabbing weaponry, A pot, A pitchfork, A rifle, and those who did not find any would try and run.
Yet even with their weaponry, even if they could easily outnumber them, They did not attack.
Their world changed fast with introduction to Me, to risk attacking the unknown would be a gamble they might have to pay for with their lives, either by them, or by the many.
Those who the horde met unarmed or with nowhere to run, were ignored, as if they were not even worth their attention let alone their gaze.
They moved from Deale to Bristol, From Bristol to Queenland, until finally, they reached Me.
My many, mutated yet still very human, their instinct took over and readied their tendrils to strike at them, yet before they could, my booming voice demanded them to refrain.
I asked them to lead them to me, and they retracted their limbs back into their body as they gestured them to follow.
And so, They did, The leader still in front, as they would lead them beneath the house were my vessel was kept.
They look upon me in awe, He and his kin petrified at my mass as they were being watched by the men who tried to strike at them.
Their leader snaps out of it, his fins standing up high, his eyes wide as his webbed hands balled into fists showing his thick veins beneath his scales.
He runs toward Me, The many wanting to stop the sudden movement yet a gaze of my many eyes already stopped them from acting.
“You!” He gasps, as his gills open as he speaks, It is clear his body can tolerate the environment, yet is so twisted that is physically pains him.
Yet in this pain, In his movements, In his voice, one thing was clear, Rage.
“Are you their God!?” He yells yet after finishing his sentence, he grabs his throat and staggers, dry heaving.
One of his kin, A female one, quickly rushed toward him lend her shoulder which he desperately leans upon.
Finally I answer “No, I am not.” My voice booms, and he looks to Me again.
Before he could speak, the woman covers his mouth and points to her ear hole.
The language was foreign, even to Me, what I could recognize was tongue clicks, yet for the rest it sounded like pebbles striking water.
“Tehyn what, are Tye?’’ The woman calmly and softly speaks in broken English, each word uncertain and painful to her as well.
“NYARLATOTHEP,” I declared, “The entity that guides this sliver of humanity.”
“… Who might you be, Kin from the water?” I ask, my words gently lingering in the air as the man whispers again to her.
“DACy-GAonn!” She pronounces awkwardly, clearly the name does not belong in the air.
“Dagon?” I make of it to easily fit the atmosphere, and she just nods understanding what I am trying to do.
My form stands motionless, Unsure how to proceed, Why they were here I do not know, The only one who can vocalize drains themselves doing so.
Woodrow would have them slaughtered, of that I am certain, Yet something speaks to me, Curiosity, Another being to rival man’s intelligence?
“Dagon.” I announce their name, firm yet gentle, Acknowledging their existence the others looked up to me in reverence as if a respect was rare for them.
“The name of our God which is with us as we stand before you, and our people.” The man softly adds, clenching the woman's shoulder harder to support himself.
Yet I felt nothing, No ripple, No shift in the Fabric, Nobody akin to me.
Nothing.
Nothing can really replace the joy of having an actual printed book in your hands.
