APT (Advanced Persistent Threat) BotNet
Continue readingNyarlathotep… the crawling chaos… I am the last… I will tell the audient void….
— screamed by a Security researcher as he plummeted off the roof of the datacenter cackling
APT (Advanced Persistent Threat) BotNet
Continue readingNyarlathotep… the crawling chaos… I am the last… I will tell the audient void….
— screamed by a Security researcher as he plummeted off the roof of the datacenter cackling
Continue reading“It’s the tree, moving along in a glow of phosphorous light.”
– Scott Bishop, “The Demon Tree”, Dark Fantasy, 12-5-1941
“It looks like a human giant!”
“Do you two see what it is carrying?”
“It’s carrying Crane! Tucked up under that huge branch that looks like a human arm!”
“Now do you believe? Now do you admit that the tree is alive?”
Continue reading“Desperation led us to take on a cheap job dealing with the monastery’s irregular bookkeeping. Late that night, Plamena was squinting at a column of numbers. The candle guttered and died, and she cast light upon the sconce. Then they were all around us, consuming the library in flame.”
“He was collecting rushes when something exploded at his feet. He reeled – and it pulled him under the water. There was nothing I could do. And every night, I hear him calling again…”
Continue readingIn a tiny little village in the middle of nowhere, flanked by forest on either side, resides a nearly childless community, save for the Aperson twins.
Continue readingContinue readingWe went to the farm in the morning after all the screams. What we found looked like a swamp. Bubbling pits of sulfurous liquid covered the area. Trees were splitting and breaking apart in the wind like sandcastles struck by the tide. If it weren’t for the disintegrating farm, no one would have believed anyone could live here. I painted that barn last summer. Uncle Alexander had given me twenty bucks. Now the paint was bubbling and peeling like sunburnt skin. All around, there were holes as though massive maggots had burrowed up out of the ground. My dad took one look in those holes and ordered me back to the car. We never even checked if Uncle Alexander was still there.
—Journal of Scott Mercer.
In October of 1925, Southern California Standard & Oil gained control of an oil field that had gone untouched since an incident in 1920 that left three men dead and the owner missing. Acts of sabotage have been significantly dropping the development of the property and the tension created by management has started a worker’s strike. Recently, a night security officer was found dead. The Investigators are hired as “scabs” to investigate the death and the strange circumstances surrounding it.
However, little does Southern California Standard & Oil know, the tunnels under “Stewart Field” hold evidence of a very old civilization, one that made pacts with dark entities. What lives in the cave is up to the Keeper: the crazed former owner of the property or a trapped mutant shoggoth.
Continue readingContinue reading“This is a dreadful, a very unpleasant thing.
Gabdulla Tuqaj, “The Forest-Demon”
“Its nose is bowed and crooked entirely like a fishing-hook,
“The arms are not equal, the feet are like branches and boughs (?).
“Its sunken eyes sparkle and glare- It is dreadful if you see it, not only at night but even in broad day.
“It is all nude, quite delicate (?); but it has the shape of man,
“On its forehead it has a horn of the length of a middle finger. Its fingers are not crooked, they are all straight,
“Very unpleasant, each one longer than half a yard.”
Eternal Cubicle Denizens
Continue readingI’ve got a review next week if Mohinder finally comes in. Quarterly reports due in two weeks but I think we’ve synergized with logistics. *harsh cough followed by weeze* So we should be 5×5 for the stockholders meeting before earnings call
—According to the nameplate on the desk Jeff Carter, Regional Manager, spoke whilst experiencing cardiac arrest and dying whilst talking.
Continue reading“Oh no – you don’t want to travel these plains without extra rations. Even if you can make it to the next village when it’s still light. I lost five friends for want of some hardtack biscuits and jerky. Sure, I’ll tell you – just watch your feet.”
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