The words froze our valiant hero, yet he did not let the creature go. The
very word shoggoth brought images of slime and primordial
bestiality and lots of blood to his mind. Since entering into the age of
reason he had learned from the Eldermen that there were many spirits in
the world. There were anaphim and thoaboth and shoggoth, there were
creatures of the stars and creatures of the deepest pits. He had heard
tell of the Thirteen Faie and how they would each come into the world to
consume it bit by bit. He had learned of the gods and goddesses who would
look on with nary a care. The words of this woman/creature knotted his
gut, he wanted to spit out the memory of them, yet that was too late.
He would not speak to the creature, not though it appeared to be nothing more than a woman. They had a way of transfixing mortal men and Fred would not be taken so easily. "Unhand me and your death will be swift," cooed the Third Shoggoth. Instead, Fred swiftly slit the woman's throat. Instead of blood, however, a vile black fluid burst from out of her neck and where it touched Fred's flesh it burned. "Aaaaaaighrgh!" screamed Fred. He let go of the shoggoth and it fell to floor in a burning liquifaction that left even the stone smouldering. Fred clutched his hand, thankful that his armour protected the remainder of his arm. He looked at the boy/dog and running yelled out, "Let's get out of here! We must return to the King's Demesyne to alert him to this terrible thing!"
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9/5/2000 8:22:23 AM
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