Writing about Cthulhu

by synapticus

Copying another writing prompt response from reddit:

“I’d love to read The Call of Cthulhu from Cthulhu’s point of view.”

Well, I would too. I’m a big fan of HP Lovecraft, so I tried writing it.

I heard then a terrible noise
like the scratching of a thousand unborn
at the lids of their coffins;
once, twice, thrice I turned upon myself,
but the scratching continued.
"Ia! Ia!" I heard,
the mewling of children playing with fire,
"Ia! Ia! Cthulu Ftag'hn!" -
the very sound assailed my senses;
though it was to me as the buzzing of a gnat,
yet I was compelled -
the arrogance of these apes!
To call out words unspoken a thousand eons!
The sheer temerity of their crude, slavering tongues
to speak the name unspoken!
Yes, thus did I rise,
and thus did the age of Mankind come to an end.
In R'lyeh, where once I reigned, my host awaited me still.
As I woke from my slumber, I pulled at the festering stitches
holding fast the wounds between each world.
O, the magnificent horrors that issued forth!
A great cacophony of gnashing teeth,
of searching eyes and thirsting fangs!
A thousand millenia the apes had walked this planet;
A thousand seconds saw them crushed beneath it.
Awoken I ascended, beyond the waves and unto the skies.
I felt billions of minds shattering in exquisite agony,
tasted the fear of a million subjects warping at the knee;
like a clarion they rang out among the stars.
A trillion civilizations trembled,
as the void itself heard my call.

Here’s a similar response to another prompt:

Explain the rationale behind HIPAA confidentiality rules like you’re H. P. Lovecraft

Behind the shroud of death, an old one hides
He lies cold, unmoving, uncaring, in wait
I looked upon him once
His eyes dark, deep and chary
Senses incognate, cognizance insensate
O! The Madness that I saw waiting there
It tore me from the World that Is and transplanted me
Like a tumescence upon the fabric of time,
to a world beyond worlds, time beyond time
There in the Golden City he waits, uncaring, unmoving - cold.
Behind him, the countless legions of those he followed,
A cacophony of silence,
a tide endlessly waning with grim assurance.
I found I could not look away from his eyes,
those portals to this realm
of maddening, horrifying, terrible certainty.
Yet I found I must, or I should never return from it.
With a small, bleeding pen I scratched his name,
for all the world to know and only I to see.
He was followed by hounds.
Not the black and bleak hounds of lore,
the slavering Cú Sídhe
whom the Celtmen feared and worshipped in the age of Gods;
No, they came clad in white, with tarnished smiles
scrubbed bare by endless polish.
They knew the man, or so they said,
and sought to find the truth behind his madness.
They told me his madness lay with him,
but could deliver them his coffers and accounts -
as though the truth had any need for such petty things!
How could I warn them away from it, without betraying
my own horrible knowledge of that world beyond!
I knew them for what they were, hyenas -
viciously fixating on a fresh and lonely corpse.
I heard the unwavering voice of Law,
as though a page had been torn from the Necronomicon itself
and dictated clear in a pitch that only I could hear:
"Begone! Let this Health Information be ever Protected,
except for we, the Covered Entities,
who bask in the ebon glow of death.
The mental health status of a patient
shall not be disclosed without consent, even unto death.
You know nothing of this thing who was a man,
and ever more, so shall you remain."
Thus they fled,
like dogs seeing fire at the end of an endless midnight.
His madness went with him, the man who waited beyond worlds,
staring down from the precipice of a boundless tall cliff.
Only I, his health care provider,
shall keep the lantern of deathly madness lit,
in preparation for the day when it must light my own path.