Cthulhu as the Huntress
You are already halfway down the tunnel when you realise it: you are being scented.
It is a She. She is hunting. She is listening for the quiet echoes, the ragged breaths, the jackhammer heartbeat. And in it all, amongst the quiet, you hear her lift her nose to the sky.
Who is she smelling? Whose body, which girl - whose fear dissolved into murky ash - skin peeled, floating in the water - whose ruptured blood perfuming the close air?
She isn’t far now. You slip soundlessly to your knees and begin the perfect prayer:
I am ready to be held like a baby. Creator, pick me up, pluck me from the ground so I can suckle the astral body. Life-giving nothingness cosmos. Mother Earth, in orbit. That’s why it’s called the Milky Way, right?
Almost here. Cosmic horror, Great Nothing. She creeps, hunches, sniffs the air once more. You stand still as a stone and wait for the soundlessness to end itself.
You are waiting for the longest time.
It is a She. She is hunting. She is listening for the quiet echoes, the ragged breaths, the jackhammer heartbeat. And in it all, amongst the quiet, you hear her lift her nose to the sky.
Who is she smelling? Whose body, which girl - whose fear dissolved into murky ash - skin peeled, floating in the water - whose ruptured blood perfuming the close air?
She isn’t far now. You slip soundlessly to your knees and begin the perfect prayer:
I am ready to be held like a baby. Creator, pick me up, pluck me from the ground so I can suckle the astral body. Life-giving nothingness cosmos. Mother Earth, in orbit. That’s why it’s called the Milky Way, right?
Almost here. Cosmic horror, Great Nothing. She creeps, hunches, sniffs the air once more. You stand still as a stone and wait for the soundlessness to end itself.
You are waiting for the longest time.
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