MYTHOS MAYHEM: ‘Nyarlathotep’ by H.P. Lovecraft (Featuring ‘Nyarlathotep the Yellow King’)
Nyarlathotep… the crawling chaos… I am the last… I will tell the audient void…’
–H. P. Lovecraft (NYARLATHOTEP)
Nyarlathotep… the crawling chaos… I am the last… I will tell the audient void…’
–H. P. Lovecraft (NYARLATHOTEP)
‘While one watches over the dead, one can hear the strigae: they sing airs that carry one away and which, despite oneself, one obeys.’ –MARCEL SCHWOB (The Strigae)
‘The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far. The sciences, each straining in its own direction, have hitherto harmed us little; but some day the piecing together of dissociated knowledge will open up such terrifying vistas of reality, and of our frightful position therein, that we shall either go mad from the revelation or flee from the deadly light into the peace and safety of a new dark age.’
–H. P. Lovecraft (The Call of Cthulhu)
A grim and gruesome tale of a strange appetite — the story of a grisly horror. –Sergeant Ivan Stanlas (The Horror Undying)
Check out our award-winning DWELLER OF THE DARK!
Of the long dead, who lived therein,
Paused by the cold hearth I felt the tendrils of hot sin,
Call of the bed, lover’s sigh made my head spin,
Head all aswirl, my mind lit in colors ablaze,
Will I survive this Christmas witch’s love haze?
Will I survive this Christmas witch’s love haze?
–CHRISTMAS WITCH
I call…I call…I call to you,
I call…I call…I call to you,
I call to you,
Lover hear…lover hear…lover hear my pleas!
Lover hear…lover hear…lover hear my pleas!
Lover come….lover come…lover come warm me in the snow,
Lover come….lover come…lover come warm me in the snow.
–SNOW ANGEL
Half of paradise,
All Hell to praise,
Red flamed star set ablaze,
Across the cosmos, across the universe,
Rockin forever in red haze,
Rockin all eternity in red haze.
–ACE’S FIRE
‘Night is approaching. I can feel the change of temperature in the tomb. The worms are becoming more active in their squirming all around me. The maggots inch by the dozens across my chest. I hear the excited squealing and clawing of the rats too.’ –Jeffrey LeBlanc (SARAH ETERNALLY ENTOMBED)
The grass so green, we so loved,
Let it grow endlessly around my quiet tomb,
Whilst you dance and sing in silver showers little dove,
Kissed by shimmering dewdrops from the blades so wet,
Remember me always, long after our love smolders red ember,
Keep my soul scorched in your heart—never to forget. Always remember.
–Dweller of the Dark (LOVE UNDEAD)
‘The pale man shook his head. “At twenty-five dollars an hour,” he said, “are you kidding? I can barely afford to have my cape cleaned once a month.” “I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Why do you wear it?” “You ever hear of a vampire without a cape? It’s part of the whole schmear, that’s all. I don’t know why!” –Charles Beaumont (BLOOD BROTHER)
‘Tonight, I have died. Tomorrow morning I will die again in thirty million brains, caught like a fly in a web, sucked dry by the multitentacled public, and flushed on through the transits of their minds to be replaced by: HEIRESS MARRIES DUKE! INCOME TAX INCREASE DUE! COAL MINERS STRIKE!’ –RAY BRADBURY (It Burns Me Up!)
“Villains!” I shrieked, “dissemble no more! I admit the deed! –tear up the planks! –here, here! –it is the beating of his hideous heart!”.’ –Edgar Allan Poe (The Tell-Tale Heart)
‘His name was Wandering Oscar, and he was a skeleton.’
–Stephen Sinclair (Wandering Oscar)
‘Again the withered hag poured forth the monotonous words of a prayer that was not meant to be acceptable in Heaven; and soon, in the pauses of her breath, strange murmurings began to thicken, gradually increasing so as to drown and overpower the charm by which they grew. Shrieks pierced through the obscurity of sound, and were succeeded by the singing of sweet female voices, which in their turn gave way to a wild roar of laughter, broken suddenly by groanings and sobs, forming altogether a ghastly confusion of terror and mourning and mirth.’
–NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE (The Hollow of the Three Hills)