What to Do When You Meet Cthulhu Read online

  As a guideline, know that regardless of the form, Nyarlathotep is always up to no good. In this case, he was sacrificing young children, which should fit anyone’s “no good” category. Unfortunately for Nyarlathotep, he serves as a messenger and/or guardian between other deities, which keeps him very busy. This might explain why he’s so bitter, and always getting into trouble.

  But like most dark, godlike entities, Nyarlathotep is keen on being admired, and as a result, cults constantly crop up, worhshipping him. The Black Man heads up a witch-cult, and enlisted Keziah Mason to do his bidding.

  The great deity is one of the few that appears so readily, and so of ten, to humans. As the Black Man, or in any of his other 999 forms (imagine this guy’s closet), he often appears to influence the deeds of mankind, or create general mischief. He has an outfit for every occasion, and a diabolical scheme to go with it.

  As Luck or Fate would have it, there was a fortuitous bolt of lightning which struck the house at that very moment. This finished any speculation on the traveler’s behalf as to whether he’d stay for dinner.

  The crazy old man was not seen again. It seems the universe doesn’t like cannibals much. Either way, it’s best you don’t stop at any abandoned houses outside of town. Just in case there are no approaching thunderstorms.

  WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU’RE ASLEEP

  As Walter Gilman demonstrates, dreaming causes serious problems in the confines ofthe Cthulhu Mythos. You’ll learn more about the dangers of dreaming in later chapters, but for now, here are a few handy tips to stay out of trouble:

  Consider learning lucid dreaming techniques. Lucid dreaming allows a person to remain “aware” during the dream-state. There are plenty of resources on the web you can use to learn about lucid dreaming. Use them!

  Set a timer. If you never fall into REM sleep, you can’t dream. Sure, you’ll eventually go insane and die from lack of REM sleep, but you won’t get involved in child sacrifices that way. And this very important if you live on a street named “Elm.”

  Sleep aids are your friend! Sure, you still dream while under the influence of sleep aids, but if you’re zonked-out enough, odds are you won’t remember your dreams in the morning, anyway.

  Or, try the opposite approach—stock up on caffeine and energy drinks, and avoid sleeping altogether.

  Try thinking about a pleasant scene, or memory, prior to falling asleep. Dreaming about sunny fields and sandy beaches will make you less likely to suffer a Freddy Krueger moment.

  Try sleeping on an uncomfortable bed. The more your sleep is disturbed, the better.

  Encourage your spouse/significant other/best friend who always sleeps on the couch to take up snoring.

  Work the late shift. Nothing ever happens to people who dream during the day.

  Take up sleepwalking.

  Eat a large, spicy, fatty meal just prior to bedtime. This will definitely produce bad dreams. Still, it’s a known quantity. You’re better off being chased by a giant hamburger than being consumed by a Mythos creature.

  IT’S A BIRD, IT’S A PLANE, IT’S A …COLOR?

  One of the most colorful tales from the outskirts of Arkham is “The Colour Out of Space.” Covered by a giant reservoir today, tales abound of a “blasted heath” at the original site—a five acre farm, long abandoned, where trees grew stunted, and the land was gray and desolate.

  Eccentric elderly hermit Amni Pierce delighted in telling the surveyor, sent from Boston to assess the reservoir site, all about the blasted heath. A meteorite crashed to Earth in the late 1800s, landing on Nahum Gardner’s farm. Globules within the rock were of a queer new color, never before identified. A troupe of professors and scientists quickly converged to slice up the meteorite into manageable chunks and test the heck out of it. But the strange material defied analysis.

  STRANGE SPELLINGS

  Regardless of your nationality, and how you spell “color” or “colour,” you might be wondering what’s up with the spelling in H.P. Lovecraft’s fiction. Yes, he was i American. Typically this means he would use American standardized spelling. But Lovecraft favored the British style—he was from New England after all. He also enjoyed archaic words, and an abundance of adjectives. Sometimes all of this combined presents a touch of confusion to the reader. But worry not. Lovecraft was very much aware of what he was doing, and the end result was an overall eerie and alien effect to his prose styling, which worked well with his topics.

  If all of this sounds a bit familiar to the film The Blob, well then it’s probably because it is similar. That’s not to say the writers, director, and producers of the classic horror film intentionally borrowed from Lovecraft, but nonetheless, Lovecraft did have a strong influence in popular culture, so sometimes his influence seeped into other works without the knowledge of the creators. In other words, sometimes a tentacle is just a tentacle, and sometimes it’s the influence of H.P. Lovecraft. You decide. Anyway, back to the uncanny events in Arkham . . .

  THE DYING FARM

  Stories circulated about strange happenings at Nahum Gardner’s farm. The land produced oversized crops that would win a “largest cabbage” contest hands down. But they were gray and tasteless (Lovecraft used “grey” instead of “gray”), and the crops were not fit to eat—except when used in Vera Mariner’s local, legendary, award-winning “Tasteless and Not Fit to Eat Cabbage Soup” recipe.

  Things grew even more bizarre as nearby flora and fauna twisted into gray (Lovecraft used . . . nevermind, you get it), diseased shapes. Nahum Gardner’s children also started acting odd—running about, maniacally screaming and yelling (although today such behavior seems to be taken as normal). Then they started dying.

  WHAT TO DO IF A COLOUR OUT OF SPACE

  LANDS ON YOUR FARM

  Consider moving. Think about it; you’re living in Arkham. Things are not going to get better. If in doubt, visit the local university.

  Do not drink the water or eat the plants, but feel free to continue selling them, at your discretion. Such behavior is not uncommon in Arkham. In fact, it seems somewhat expected.

  Immediately put the house up for sale. Don’t wait for the land to become a pallid gray/grey hue. Speed is of the essence here.

  If the Colour is in your well, do not try chemicals, such as bleach. It’s a creature from space that appears to be a strange, never-before-seen color. Not a load of laundry. Besides being ineffective, you are likely to irritate it.

  When extracting the Colour from a well, try using a pool-cleaner to capture the globules. It might also be handy to simple call in a pool cleaning service, just to avoid contact with the entity dwelling at the bottom of your well. Sure, the service will be reluctant, after all they clean pools, not wells, but here is where a bit of bribery might come in handy. But do not utter a word about the prior events or what’s in the well, just proffer plenty of cash. Everyone likes cash.

  To properly dispose of the Colour, deposit it in your neighbor’s well. Preferably the one who cheats every year in the pumpkin-growing contest. On second thought, make it a neighbor a good distance away—if that neighbor wins the farm market contests also, then all the better. Ideally, choose a neighbor with an inground swimming pool. Offering to pay to have the neighbor’s pool cleaned will help move the “Colour” from your place to his, and you already have a pool cleaning service in your hire.

  Always make sure you remove all globules of Colour. There’s nothing worse than exacting revenge on a neighbor with a Colour Out of Space, only to find out you still have a Colour Out of Space problem. In fact, it is a bit embarrassing.

  Contact the state government and see if they want to build a reservoir on your property.

  Ask your best friend to descend into the well and retrieve the Colour for you (if you’re feeling magnanimous, you might want to suggest they rent a Haz-Mat suit)

  Ignore the Colour—once it has leeched the land and killed everything around it, the problem will go away on its own.

  Nahum insisted one of
the colorful globules dwelled at the bottom of his well, feeding off the environs, sucking the life from everything around it.

  When Amni and the authorities arrived at the farm to check things out, the landscape around the well was gray (uhh . . .) and blighted, disintegrating into dust. The family was dead. It appeared Nahum’s suspicions were correct about the greedy, gorging globule at the bottom of his well. After leeching the area, the alien color was ready to move on. With a spectacular shimmering show, it burst forward from the site and into the sky. And that was the end of it.

  Almost. Some people believe a bit of the “Colour” creature remained. And the area did remain devoid of life, gray( . . .), and blighted. Other than that, it really was the end of it.

  The surveyor sent out to survey the reservoir reported back to Boston, and must have given the site a clean bill of health, because the Arkham Reservoir sits there today. And it’s probably the source of Arkham Springs sparkling bottled water.

  WHAT NOT TO TRY IN ARKHAM

  Known for its crisp, distinctive taste, Arkham Springs Bottled Water is captured at the source, and bottled right in Arkham. It has quickly become one of the best-selling bottled waters in the New England region. Distilled using a proprietary process developed at Miskatonic University, Arkham Springs water is the purest and cleanest you’ll ever find. And it has a natural sparkle!

  Also available in colorful, eco-friendly bottles, locally manufactured!

  WIFE SWAP!

  Sure, this concept is depicted innocuously in television reality shows today, in which your horrible spouse is temporarily traded for someone else’s horrible spouse. In the end, it usually turns out your horrible spouse is not so horrible. At least, in comparison with the new, even more horrible spouse, who has accomplished monumental achievements in the art of the horrific.

  So your ghastly spouse returns, and the two of you live dreadfully ever after.

  If you think that’s bad, imagine this scenario: your best friend’s wife swaps brains with your best friend, and won’t give his body back. The only way to stop her is to put six bullets in his head.

  Tough one to explain to the judge, there. And I’ll bet someone’s already working on that reality show.

  In Lovecraft’s story, “The Thing on the Doorstep,” Daniel Upton and Edward Derby find themselves in this predicament. They were the best of friends. That is, until Derby fell for the attractive and unfriendly Asenath Waite. I’m not sure what was up with Derby, after all Asenath was a bit creepy—she allegedly spent a lot of time studying magic and the arcane at Miskatonic University. She wasn’t fond of Upton, either. But one thing led to another, and Derby proposed to Asenath. Soon after the wedding, Derby and Upton’s friendship withered (this is also a problem for gamers who don’t marry “gaming spouses.” However, I don’t think Lovecraft used them as a model—mostly because they didn’t exist yet).

  HOW TO TELL IF YOU’RE THE VICTIM OF A MENTAL WIFE SWAP

  Lipstick on your collar and it’s not your girlfriend’s shade (think about it).

  Your friends observe you’ve been talking a lot about your “feelings.” Or your friends no longer talk to you.

  When you’re lost, you feel inclined to stop and ask for directions.

  You keep renting “chick flicks.”

  You have a sudden aversion to professional sports.

  You have a sudden attraction to professional sports.

  You’re pretty sure you were not wearing those high heels fifteen minutes ago.

  Your buddies in the local poker game keep asking you to bring more of those great blueberry muffins.

  You’re in Camp Edward. Worse, you’re in Camp Jacob.

  The number of gifts you’re purchasing for your wife go from zero to anything higher than zero.

  After a few years, Derby suddenly attempted to renew his friendship with Upton. And all was not well with Derby. In Upton’s and Derby’s discussions, Derby dropped hints about his wife, revealing his fears of Asenath. He suspected Asenath used her arcane knowledge and powerful magic to possess him. And the frequency of her mind-inhabitation sessions were increasing. Yes, she was time-sharing Derby’s mind. It’s a bit like borrowing a neighbor’s car, or maybe your spouse’s car to be more exact. And in this case, everyone who sees you inside the car mistakes you for your spouse—well, that’s because you are in your spouse’s body. Or car. Or . . . oh, nevermind.

  Not surprisingly, Upton didn’t buy it. Clearly, Derby was suffering from hallucinations. And those complete changes in personality and demeanor—which occurred increasingly in their conversations—were nothing to be concerned about. Here we begin to see that Upton wasn’t the fastest car in the race. Or maybe he simply enjoyed speaking to a different version of Derby on occasion. It’s like having two friends in one.

  I SEE DEAD PEOPLE

  Eventually, even Upton became suspicious. And all it took was the decaying, gurgling corpse of Asenath Waite dragging itself onto Upton’s doorstep, handing Upton a politely written, though smudged note (with decomposing corpse bits). In retrospect, Upton didn’t really seem like that close of a friend to Derby. I mean, he’d rather believe Derby was “confused” and hallucinating than accept his outlandish claims (remember, we’re in Arkahm). But when a decrepit corpse finally arrives at his door, then he’s convinced. Until then Derby didn’t even get the mildest benefit of the doubt.

  Anyway, the note explained what the corpse could not. Derby’s body was up at Arkham Sanitarium, permanently possessed by Asenath. But even Asenath wasn’t Asenath, really. Long ago, her father Ephraim Waite escaped death by possessing the young girl, taking advantage of her weak will (is this a form of cross dressing?). Ephraim was the true villain behind all of the body-swapping shenanigans.

  Derby had murdered Ephraim/Asenath to escape his/her constant possession attempts. But Ephraim/Asenath’s powers exceeded death. He/she permanently possessed Derby, from beyond the grave.

  So, the note requested, if Upton would be so kind, would he please go up to the sanitarium and shoot Derby’s former body in the head, thank you very much, hope all is well, have a great evening, see you later.

  So, finally proving himself a true friend, Upton did as requested, and killed Derby. Now that’s what friends do for each other. Keep it in mind. This nugget of knowledge will help you later when the world starts to fall apart. Remember keep your friends close, and make sure they are good friends—the kind who’ll make sacrifices for you . . . should the need arise.

  NEED A DOCTOR?

  Try Dr. Herbert West, Reanimator, whose exploits are covered in the coincidentally-titled “Herbert West—Reanimator.” Herbert West is Arkham’s most famous medical personality and is always on the prowl for new patients.

  On first glance, you might be worried about West’s medical training. But don’t be concerned about his complicated medical history. “Technically” West was banned from Miskatonic. But only due to trivial “ethical” concerns of the persnickety dean, Dr. Allen Halsey. Apparently the dean wasn’t fond of West injecting the medical school cadavers with his reanimation serum. This means there is a great chance Herbert West didn’t receive an actual diploma, nor was he board certified. So the “doctor” part might be stretching things a little.

  Anyway, the blond-haired, blue eyed, innocuous-looking West took up residence in an abandoned farmhouse in the town of Bolton, just outside of Arkham. He worked with his trusty assistant (and close friend) who chronicled their adventures (remember the close friend requirement from Derby’s experiences?). You might say the two of them were just like Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Well, close, anyway. If Sherlock Holmes had been an insane doctor obsessed with reanimating the dead, and Watson his equally insane assistant, then you’ve got a dead-on match.

  In West’s day, dead bodies were difficult to come by. By being clever, West acquired them from a nearby potter’s field, allowing him to continue his gruesome experiments. After some trial and error, West and his assistant saw their
first “success”—they injected West’s refined reanimating fluid into a freshly-dead body. The corpse gurgled a horrid, inhuman cry as it awoke. Horrified, West and his assistant ran, screaming, from the house. Really, what else were they expecting? They were trying to reanimate the dead.

  Given their reactions, you’d think this would be enough to deter future experiments. Nope.

  NOT FRESH ENOUGH

  By the time the two experimenters returned to their house, they found the dead guy was dead again. West assumed his failure stemmed from the fact that his corpses suffered from a freshness issue. The bodies were not fresh enough—he needed to get his hands on them just as the victim expelled his or her last breath.

  So his trials continued, as did his quarrels with Dr. Halsey, Dean of the Medical School. The grumpy dean refused to allow West access to Miskatonic’s resources (makes you wonder what type of resources they had). Nonetheless, West yearned to prove his genius to Halsey, and win the man’s respect. A horde of fresh, reanimated dead people stomping about town would do the trick.

  NOW ACCEPTING PATIENTS!

  DR. HERBERT WEST, M.D. (ALMOST)

  Now treating patients with any ailments! Dr. West’s special elixir helps you forget all of your aches and pains.

  Requirements: Must be dead, near dead, or very unwell

  Location: Bolton, just outside Arkham