Archive for Stories

We hope you enjoy this dirty little Mythos tale. Read with the door locked and maybe have a tissue or two handy. BECAUSE YOU MIGHT BE SO SCARED, YOU MIGHT CRY, OKAY? Perverts.

You would’ve done it too. She looked like a cross between Dita Von Teese and what you picture when you masturbate about WWII bomber pinup nose art. Lips the color of a spicy tamale, skin so creamy white you could paint a Bob Ross mountaintop with it, eyes like a police sketch artist would draw if you only said, “smoky bedroom with a touch of startled arousal.” And her voice, oh, that voice that sounded like a panther purring while being spanked with a leather strop.

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“WHAT IN THE HELL IS THAT!?“

The rubbery, gibbering mass slithered and snorted. Atrophied arms and legs—more like flippers—waved helplessly. Its body was iridescent and covered with gaping mouths, blind eyes, and suckers. Its tentacles flailed, and it smelled like rotten potatoes and sour milk.

“Can I keep him?” The boy looked up at his mother, all innocence and hound-dog expression.

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We have quite the dread-inducing treat for Shoggoth.net readers today: It’s the newest short story from Brett Talley, a major voice among the New Lovecraftians. Space is the most harrowing place of all, even before strange entities start playing tricks with your mind …

They tell me that space didn’t always drive men mad. But I find that hard to believe. Well, I suppose if all you ever did was float around the earth, go to the moon, take a walk in the void, then space is an adventure. But it’s not like that anymore. Not out here.

“This can’t be right.”

David is talking to himself. He keeps looking at the same coordinates. I know he isn’t talking to me, so I just let him repeat it over and over again. “This can’t be right.”

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You may think you know where this story of undying love is going … but beware: you might be myth-ing something important.

The concert was going fine until Johnny Harlowe saw his dead girlfriend in the third row.

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Morning sunlight moved over Dark Creek, making the students shade their eyes against the glare. Miss Leonard, she of the willowy frame and long legs, tsked and lowered the blinds.

“I do hope that’s better. Now, let’s begin by reviewing your choices for the assignment: You can read Dracula, Carmilla or, gag, excuse me, Interview with the Vampire.” I expect the reading to be done in a month, and then written responses every week thereafter.” She looked out over the sullen faces.

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“Lucky fucking cripple,” Stuart said as he eyed Johnny Hicks’s stump. Looking down at his own two healthy legs, he couldn’t help but feel he was the handicapped one.

“Morning, Mr. Alexander.” Johnny said as he passed Stuart’s office on the way to the firm’s law library.

“Morning,” Stuart grumbled through clenched teeth. Johnny was a good fellow and Stuart knew what he felt was wrong, but handicapped people had it so easy in life. For a cripple, it’s enough just to live a normal life.

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“Congratulations, boys and ghouls,” Lady Nocturna said, crossing her legs in a whisper of fishnets. “You’ve lived through another night of fright. Tune in next week for a double-trouble Wilfred Ghostman creature feature Friday. Immacula the Vampire Nun followed by Wasp People, both starring yours truly. Right here on Channel 12, Trinity Bay’s one and only. Join me for the fun … if you dare!”

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