Cthulhu Advent Calendar

Attention Fiction Authors: From the incorrigible reprobates that are currently bringing you OctoberNomicon, comes; the next damned thing, but this time with fiction!!!
The Shoggoth.net Cthulhu Advent Calendar!! A new fiction story every day until new years!! Sign up now!! Let’s see what you got!!



Sign up here for more info!!

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Vestals of Ii-Ha

A tall female humanoid figure, wearing a long tunic. The tunic is decorated in arcane symbols in rows running up and down the length of the garment. She has four arms, two on each side. Each arm has multiple joints, segmented like an insect. From under the bottom of the tunic peek the ends of multiple insect-like legs. On their head they wear a veil that terminates just below the eyes, obscuring them. Under the veil, the face is dried and withered, the nose and lips missing, teeth exposed and gritted in a sinister grin.

It was something of a female figure, taller than any human, moving among the seeming infinite shelves of books. A finger traced the spines of the collected volumes, at the end of a misformed arm, segmented like that of an insect. A priest’s vestments hung from the being’s body. Across the gown were sigils I could not comprehend. Yet something inside of me roiled when I saw them. The creature floated as it moved. Sharp, thin feet, dozens of them, kicked from under the hem of the gown. I must have made some sort of noise. It turned toward me, a hiss coming from its skeletal face. It lifted a veil covering its eyes. The empty sockets began to glow. 

Alternative names: Canonesses of the True Face, Sisters of the Throne. 

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Mastodon? More like Chaugnar Faugn..

A anthropomorphic elephant in a circle logo

We at Shoggoth.net are proud to announce we just launched our own Mastodon Server for all you weirdo cosmic horror & cthulhu mythos fans to join. Sign up now!

Follow us there

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NaNoWriMo Check-In!

Checking in! I hope you’re all doing well, fellow writers. My story just crested the 26k spot, which means that I am a little behind, but I am looking forward to catching up this weekend.

Also, don’t be afraid to sign up for the Advent calendar thing we’re doing for December. If you’re looking to pad your word count, that’s an easy way to do it!

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A Picture of a Rose

a plain black box

Alternative names: Langford’s Rose, Xithxrar’s Face

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Cthulhu in December preparation continues!

We’re still looking for submissions for December. We’ve got two award winning writers already on deck. Submit today to get your fiction displayed along side theirs!!

Image is Adam Scott Glancy, a bearded middle aged caucasian man wearing glasses.
Adam Scott Glancy Delta Green, numerous Delta Green books, Horrors of War
CODY GOODFELLOW has written nine novels and five collections of short stories, and edits the hyperpulp zine Forbidden Futures. His writing has been favored with three Wonderland Book Awards. His comics work has been featured in Mystery Meat, Creepy, Slow Death Zero and Skin Crawl. As an actor, he has appeared in numerous short films, TV shows, music videos by Anthrax and Beck, and a Days Inn commercial. He also wrote, co-produced and scored the Lovecraftian hygiene films Baby Got Bass and Stay At Home Dad, which can be viewed on YouTube. He “lives” in San Diego, California.
CODY GOODFELLOW has written nine novels and five collections of short stories, and edits the hyperpulp zine Forbidden Futures. His writing has been favored with three Wonderland Book Awards. His comics work has been featured in Mystery Meat, Creepy, Slow Death Zero and Skin Crawl. As an actor, he has appeared in numerous short films, TV shows, music videos by Anthrax and Beck, and a Days Inn commercial. He also wrote, co-produced and scored the Lovecraftian hygiene films Baby Got Bass and Stay At Home Dad, which can be viewed on YouTube. He “lives” in San Diego, California.
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Xaazenak

An immense, thin humanoid being slightly bent at the waist. It is nude and sexless. Its flesh appears to be made of bone. Two arms hang by its sides; there are no elbows on the arms, nothing connecting the wrist to the rest of the arm or the hands to the wrists. Palms face the viewer. From its back spread eight other arms, four on each side, extending like wings, each disjointed like the arms at its side. Its face is featureless save six narrow eyes, arraigned in two even, verticle rows. Atop its head is a crown-like flame.

It hurt the eyes just to look at the being. The air around it shimmered, like pavement on a hot summer day. There was no radiation, the scientists in charge assured us. The effect was due to thex being’s strange composition, they said. It was just a guess, though. They’d never been able to get a tissue sample. The colossal creature seemed to be made entirely of bone or something like it. Whatever it was, it’d proved too hard for the government’s tools to even chip. Immense chains binding it gave the illusion of security. No doubt if it awoke it would easily shrug them away. Even as it slept, it felt as though the being was reaching inside of our minds, weighing our sins, judging our worthiness. 

Alternative names: Angels, Cleansers of the Earth, Fires of the Elder Gods. 

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NaNoWriMo Check-in

Hey NaNoNerds!
Checking in! How is everyone doing?
I’ve got 7636 words toward my 50,000 word goal for the month. That puts me a little bit ahead of the day count, but I know something will come up that’ll eat up that lead.
How are you doing and what’s your word count?
Any hurdles you have had to overcome in life or plot or otherwise? Has anyone received one of those 30 covers in 30 days? Show it off!
Let us know!
–Matt

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NaNoWriMo 2022!

Hello Fellow S.N writers!

Not the official people, but sure, them too! Specifically, all you folks who love Lovecraft but also enjoy writing!

Tomorrow kicks off NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). This is the magical time of year where we try to write an entire novel in only a month! That’s pretty intense sounding but, in practice, it’s a blast.

That being said, we here at Shoggoth wanted to invite you to travel this weird journey with us. We made a calendar (later in this same post) and we’re going to be checking in with you once per week. We want to hear what you’re writing, how the NaNo is treating you, and words of encouragement. We don’t expect all of us to make it to that mythical 50k this month, but who cares? We just want to support you as horror leaps from your fingertips.

To that effort, go ahead and friend me on NaNoWriMo.org. My username is Spazenport. I won’t be doing my usual horror writings this month, but I most certainly will be supporting your writing, no matter what genre it falls into.

Get ready, get set, and let’s go!

Expect weekly check-ins on Saturday of each week and on the last day of the month in the form of a blog post.

Good luck!

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Nahab, the Undying, the Unending

An old woman, naked from the waist up. She clutches a giant rat to her breast, nursing it. From under her long, ragged skirt peek the feet of a rat. Her face is sunken, eyes staring but lifeless. Her mouth hangs in a scowl. Long white hair falls about her shoulder. Around her are faint, shadowy images of herself, surrounding her.

“For almost one hundred years, the residents of the French Hill Neighborhood have seen a terrifying figure wandering through the streets and sometimes even their homes. An evil, ancient hag nursing a giant rat. Even as French Hill becomes a trendy, gentrified, upscaled neighborhood, the old superstitions remain. Everyone knows the name Keziah Mason. And everyone knows not to anger her. …– Marion Elwood, The Ghosts of Old Arkham.

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Phantoms of No Man’s Land

The Phantoms look like gasmask clad German infantry, soaked with mud, blood, and human waste through their uniforms, sometimes carrying the detritus of the battlefield tangled in their gear and flesh. They are peppered with bullet and shrapnel wounds, sometimes tangled in sections of barbed wire. Beneath their heavy uniforms and helmets, their corpse-white skin shows the damage of war and possibly their reassembly from unmatched corpses. Their gas masks adhere to their skulls like skin and removing them leaves a wet, grinning skull and staring eyes.

The play The King in Yellow has been introduced to the oddest and most inaccessible of places. One of those was the blood and fecal churned mud in the trenches of the Western Front. As soldiers reached out for any talisman, mascot, or gris-gris that might protect them from the random, impersonal death that haunted the mazes of entrenchments that stretched from Switzerland to the sea, more than one man on leave stumbled upon the Yellow Sign. Some thought them to be a variation of the popular Buddhist swastika that was found in great numbers on either side of No Man’s Land. Others believe them to be a good luck charm of Arabic origin. Whether found in a shop or sent in the mail by worried and superstitious family or friends, the Yellow Sign was not unknown in the trenches. And where the Yellow Sign Goes, the play The King in Yellow is sure to follow. Perhaps the manuscript arrives at the battalion HQ via the post from an anonymous sender. A play that might be performed in order to alleviate the boredom that settles in between the gargantuan efforts to shift the front a mile or two east? Maybe the pages arrive as nothing more than wadded packing around a shipment of preserved food sent from the hole? In any event, the play is here now and Carcosa will soon follow.

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