This short was created from a prompt at the Gotham Writers Write-In workshop on Feb. 17th.

We were given a prompt and 15 minutes to write something inspired by that prompt--so it is as much story as I could fit into that time.

Prompt: Seriously?

When the clouds overhead swirled into a vortex of iron and white, the center of the spiral parting to let dangle a dozen, massive, dark purple tentacles, all I could think was,


Tara didn’t seem to notice, and continued chanting. Perfunctorily glancing at the roiling sea as she read the chant from the wormy tome. Blind to the fruits of her arcane labor until I elbowed her in the ribs.

“Fuhlungwi mwalanafh Kuhthlh--ow!”

She bucked away from me and nearly dropped the book onto the sea-worn wood of the pier.

“What the heck!” She said, yelling over the howling wind.

“Look, idiot.” I motioned to the sky. She followed my finger and dropped the book, lately stolen from her father’s collection.

“Oh fudge. We did it.”

The writing mass of feelers had dropped lower, as the thing pulled itself down from the sky. They lashed the ocean with titan splashes, which rose into tidal highs that threatened to cover the beach, the boardwalk, and us.

“We should find higher ground.” I pulled Tara along and she resisted, stubbornly motioning to the sea.

“He’s supposed to come from the water, though.”

We were both fans of H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, with its god-like aliens, and atheist dread, but neither of us thought it was actually real. Even when we found the book in her father’s library. Even when we had the idea to borrow it, and read it out to the riotous seas, we never thought it would work. As that mountainous bulk spilled out from the sky and hit the great ocean with a thunderous peal, all I could think was,


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