Shoggoth.net

The people have spoken. Our very own EvilKitten has won the OctoberNomicon submission contest.  Her entry was the Ululatus Anima; the anthromorphism, if such a vague/blunt term could be used, of the very sound created by the demon flutists to placate the blind nuclear chaos that is Azathoth.  What the colour out of space is for artists, the Ulutatus Anima is for musicians.   We both congratulate EvilKitten, and worry for her neighbours.  What horrors does she have for us in the future? Only time will tell, especially now that she will be armed with a brand new copy of Tales of the Crescent City, generously donated by Golden Goblin Press.  Thank you all that submitted entries and all of you who voted.

Remember kids, we’re not *just* OctoberNomicon, you’re welcome to submit content to us year round.  When in doubt, feel free to email at trollboy@ well the domain name you’re currently on.  Godspeed!

Oh I love new and untested software. Ok, voting ends on the 15th as planned.
I’ve VERIFIED that you can now vote for multiple stories (even all of them).
Let’s try this again shall we?

Vote for your favorite OctoberNomicon Monster!  Winner gets a free copy of Tales of the Crescent city!
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“I’ll take the damn pills when you can prove to me I’m wrong about the Internet. I’m not saying that computers are evil, I’m not pretending to be some tabloid TV version of a fake Amish. I’m saying that the end result of a worldwide network has such a high potential to be evil that it’s safer to assume that it is. One cell isn’t evil, but you get enough of them together and proliferating – that’s right, I can still use precise vocabulary – and it’s a cancerous growth. No, I didn’t know your brother was in hospital for chemo. I’m sorry about that. But knowledge is power and when you hook enough of it together…”
-Secure ward, Highcroft Psychiatric Hospital

“I’m requesting leave for personal reasons. I’m starting to see the possibilities in the delusions of one of my patients. You look at the faces people using tablets, laptops, smartphones – it’s like the internet is sucking their souls out. I’ll take time out on a nice beach for a week, just with a normal non-smart cellphone. Please confirm by written memo or verbally – I’m switching my desktop off.”
– Main office, Highcroft Psychiatric Hospital, 2 hours later
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It felt like the end of the world. For many, it was. They said the ship was unsinkable. The masses claim that it was wrong of them to tempt god in that way. Man does not know the future they said. Only god can build a flawless design. They don’t know what I know, they didn’t see what I saw. Women were weeping as they held onto their children and said goodbye to their husbands. The ship was sinking, and there aren’t enough lifeboats for everyone on board.

As if it wasn’t enough to be on board an unsinkable ship that was sinking, there was a missing little girl. Her mother had known something bad was going to happen and had been forced to board by her husband. Now the child was missing, and the ship was going down. Ironically, the child turned up just as they were forcing us into a life boat. We had been looking for that child all over the ship, and she showed up now. She wasn’t alone; she held a small orange and black cat.

When the young girl ran up to her mother, our small group stepped away from the lifeboats. Now that we had the child, maybe we could stop this horrible creature that had taken up residency in the child’s body. We took Mr. Widener’s Book of the Dead and joined forces to stop Mr. Stead’s mummy. May God have mercy on us. Our lives didn’t matter much; we were the only ones that could stop the end of the world.

Eyewitness account of the Unsinkable Molly Brown from the night the Titanic Sunk.

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Travis: ya ill be home at 9
Travis: were getn lots of candy
Travis: im with some new kids
Travis: hittin all the houses
Travis: going threw the woods

– last messages received by Mrs. Margaret Jackman from her missing son.
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“I’m not sure if there’s anything I can tell you. I mean, I’m just grateful that on that day I had a lab session across campus, and missed the recording slot. Recording? Yeah, it wasn’t performing. For full marks on the course, we had to record a recital as well as performing live, OK? And this was the test slot to get all the little settings figured out? So they didn’t need me there all of the time; the security camera knows more than I do. Experimental soundwaves? No, just plain acoustic instruments and trying to get a clean recording. Mozart, to be exact. I guess that your science teams have told you that it takes like over 200 decibels to kill, and nothing in that room had that kinda output. Yeah, I had to look for basic identifying and I’ll tell you this: I saw blood over their ears and heads, but I’ve seen burst eardrums before and they don’t bleed so much, and it’s like a small amount. You don’t notice it on Judith with her nail polish, but the guys’ hands are coated in blood, hair and gunk. I don’t care if you put it down to shock, they must’ve been desperate to keep out or drag something out. Test it. I don’t know why the cameras fuzzed either, hell, this is an elective cheap grade course and I’m an English major, not engineering or physics. [phone rings] Sure, sure I can hold on while you take that. You OK, Officer? Officer? What’s the problem with eardrums? Of course they’d be broken if you think a sonic blast caused it….they’re intact…no, I got nothing…say, officer, can I go? I wanna go past Engineering and grab some noise reduction gear…”

-Recorded statement of Martin Nichols, freshman student at Warwick University [Interviewing Officer’s Note: The body of Martin Nichols was found in the storage room of the Music Centre 3 hours after this interview. As with the original case, this remains open]

“[soft croon with guitar] Mmmm, the sun goin’ down, boy, dark gon’ catch me here Lord I’m standin’ at the crossroad, babe, I believe I’m sinkin’ down. [stills strings]
Why’d I sell my soul to the Devil? I never did. He just promised me that I could be keepin’ it until I passed. The music wouldn’a’ waited an’ it woulda never sat still on the discs.”
– Robert Johnson, Bluesman Continue reading »