Monthly archives: October 2015

The Migo Queen

Image is a whale sized grub looking creature with a shrimplike abdomen and a mass of feelers for a head.

The Migo Queen
by Reuben Dodd for the OctoberNomicon Art Contest

“Police are on day 6 of a manhunt searching for the serial killer plaguing Redwood Heights.  So far 7 bodies have been found, with parts of the bodies surgically removed.  Local conspiracy theorists are calling back to the cattle mutilations north of Redwood Heights back in the 80’s.  This and Girl’s soccer tournament results tonight for you on News Channel 6” Continue reading »

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The Ring of Fylegt, Part I

I

When I walked into the Cherry Brooke Gazette on Tuesday morning, I believed it was going to be a normal day. One filled with mundane tasks like going through dozens of replies to my ad in the paper, or Mr. Fisher would have me write up articles about some local events, like the fire that took place at the Moore Mansion the night before, or the car chase that ended with the culprit t-boning himself into a pole. But I was wrong … very wrong.

Entering my office, I saw there was a manila envelope laying on my desk. I picked it up and noticed how heavy it was, then sunk into my chair. Looking at it, I realized there wasn’t a return address, which was odd, but my wonderment of what was inside was far greater than the missing address.

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Keck, Lesser Independent Race

Enter the contest. Draw this creature. Click here.

This creature doesn’t have art yet. You can help and possibly even win cool prizes by making the art yourself! Click here to find out more

These alien being are not native to our dimension dwelling in a shadow realm parallel to our own. They are most often transported into our world accidentally, when a wizard fails in creating a gate, performing a summoning, or in harness the powers of the cosmos. Once trapped in our dimension the Keck has a single option for survival, as it cannot exist long in our environment. The only place it can find refuge is within a living human host.   Continue reading »

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NaNoWriMo Prep!

Are you getting ready for NaNoWriMo?

Don’t know what it is? Maybe you should. NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month, AKA November! A lot of the staff at Shoggoth.net are authors, and some of us partake in this annual word party.

The goal? 50,000 words in a month.

Interested? Sign up an NaNoWriMo.org and then comment in the comments of our site with your NaNoWriMo.com page link. We’d love to friend you and follow your progress.

November is going to be a fun month for NaNoWriMo members here at Shoggoth.net. We’re planning a few surprises as well as giving you regular updates as to our own progress.

That being said, how do you get 50,000 words in 1 month? It isn’t easy, but Shoggoth.net has built a little calendar that you can make as your wallpaper on your computer desktop to help keep you on track with your word count.

NaNoWriMo Calendar

NaNoWriMo Calendar

Let’s see how many words the NaNoShoggothers can get this next month. We’d love to see how many monsters we can bring into the world…

My NaNoWriMo link? Here ya go: http://nanowrimo.org/participants/spazenport

 

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Lotus Eaters (Lotophagi)

The fog broke and the captain saw the island covered by rows and rows of lotus flowers. In the far distant hill overlooking the ocean the captain could see the people of the island picking the lotus to eat. A crude carving of their hideous God sat in the middle of their harvesting. The hungry men on the ship jumped for joy as they saw the sight. Bitterly the captain warned his men, “Not here! This is the land of the lotus-eaters… Go to shore and we will never leave.”

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CONTESTS! VOTING!

Here are your contest updates:

  • Augustus Cantos voting begins NOW (Lower right hand corner of any page, feel free to vote for more than one)!
  • OctoberNomicon Writing voting begins Nov 1 (submit your monsters soon!!)
  • OctoberNomicon Art voting begins Nov 15 (More time to submit your art!!)
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The Stone Man

Stones

Monoliths. Ancient astronomical stone-gardens. Human-like statues beyond antiquity. All tap into our deepest sense of cosmic time … and cosmic horror.

I

As I moved down the sandy shore of the Woodell River, searching for rock samples, I stumbled upon a queerly stacked stone statue. Placed perfectly it was, on a large weathered rock, so much so not even the water moving across its base made it budge. It begged the question, “Who built this?”

Who, indeed, did build the small pillar of stone that seemed to speak in an unspoken language that not even a geologist’s mind could understand. Although it was strange, and built abnormally, I found it captivating. The statue seemed to have a force about it, something that pulled me towards its direction, kept me standing in the riverbed, and left me to wonder about its quixotic structure.

As the cool water rushed over my feet, and my eyes fixated on the stacked stones, I pondered, what type of person would create such an odd thing. Slowly, my imagination pieced together characters that seemed to be ripped from the fictional stories I have read over the years.

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The Garson Invaders

Enter the contest. Draw this creature. Click here.

This creature doesn’t have art yet. You can help and possibly even win cool prizes by making the art yourself! Click here to find out more

“Three strange beings emerged from the craft. They were about 13-feet tall, greenish-blue in color, and the face was a color combination he had never seen before…Their bodies seemed to glow, and they had a single eye in the center of what passed for a forehead. The beings had six evenly distributed sets of arms and/or hairy legs. The ‘hands’ were equipped with crab-like claws, which opened and closed spasmodically. They also were equipped with a natural, twin antenna in the head…“One of the beings started to come toward Ennio, who turned and ran. However, the being sent a sort of hypnotic stare after Ennio that ‘froze’ him in his tracks, and then spoke to him in a voice that seemed to address him inside his head…The being sternly requested or ordered Ennio to perform some task, the nature of which he has stoutly refused to divulge, even to officialdom. He was emphatic that he would ‘rather die’ than do what they asked him to do.” – Project Blue Book Continue reading »

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Amy’s Locket

Gothic horror meets Lovecraftian horror. A scary mix, indeed.

Amy Winchester loved old books. The girls who teased her at school said she even looked ‘book-ish’, with her round glasses over large, round green eyes, long dresses that sometimes tripped her up, and pale, scaly skin (when the weather was dry). She would spend hours in the Academy’s huge tiered library reading Victorian mysteries or about valiant heroes trekking through lost lands. When she walked through the hallways, it was often while holding a leather-bound tome that felt almost as large as she was against her chest. Despite the looks she got from her classmates, she smiled at the wonderful smell of leather and old paper under her nose.

At her expansive home with her Aunt Nettie and Uncle Vernon, she did the same, reading in Uncle’s study, on the balcony and tucked into a corner. These were even older and more esoteric subjects. She read about her great uncle Mortimer, who took the ears of eight Congo cannibals (she’d grimaced when she’s read that and a little more than shocked when a brown, leathery object that must have been an ear fell in her lap), about Grandpa Joe that had scalped four Cherokees and was in his turn scalped by Apaches (and lived!), and Aunt Lenore that had died treating the Spanish Flu in France.

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Hali

Cover detail from The King In Yellow 1905 book

Regular contributor Duane Pesice turns his horrified gaze upon the realm of a certain jaundiced ruler …

The leading edge of the ripple is aquamarine, with trailing edges of amethyst. The two small suns, nameless, are prominent, one pale yellow, one dim crimson, high in an azure sky. The twin moons, nameless also, trace a path from the lake shore to the far horizon, passing before the starscraping towers of ruined Carcosa, over the courts of the King in Yellow.

It is the first season of the year on Carcosa. The blooms have yet to show. The lake, Hali, is verdant, mordant, fertile with possibility.

The versions of the play that are performed this season may hold out some forlorn hope, a touch of pathos, of genuine tragedy amid the madness and death. Perhaps a player or two will even survive until the next performance.

Stranger things have happened, in Yhtill.

Continue reading »

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