The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos Read online

  The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka

  & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos

  Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr.

  Table Of Contents

  That Tantalizing Taste You Will Never Forget

  Deathless Bride Of The Crawling Chaos

  Toadface

  The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka

  About The Authors

  That Tantalizing Taste You Will Never Forget

  By Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr.

  Derek looked around the restaurant for his lunch appointment. The Enchanted Sea was a new eating place he’d never visited before. A huge aquarium, filled with a variety of colorful fish, was built into one of the walls. He wondered if that constituted a health or safety hazard. All that moisture, all those germs … could it contaminate the food somehow?

  He noticed a sign by the cash register that read, Bellwood’s Finest Sushi. That seemed like a bold claim for a new restaurant – but then, it was Bellwood’s only sushi bar, so it had to be true. Some of the local supermarkets sold packaged sushi, but that just wasn’t the same.

  The waitress, a thirtyish Asian woman with a purple streak in her hair, walked up and handed him a menu. “Are you Mr. Prince?”

  Derek nodded.

  “Follow me, please.”

  As they walked through the restaurant, past the long aquarium, Derek looked into the gently bubbling waters. The other side of the aquarium was a mirrored surface, so it looked like the water was filled with diners as well as fish.

  The waitress led him to a booth where a red-haired, reed-thin woman sat, sipping a tall glass of iced tea. She was pale, with large, almost bulbous green eyes and full red lips. She stood up to shake his hand.

  “Derek!” she said. “So good to finally meet you in person.”

  “Good to meet you, too, Minerva.” They both sat down.

  “Can I bring you something to drink?” the waitress said to Derek.

  “Iced tea will be fine, thanks.”

  “Have you had a chance to look over the employment package I sent?” Minerva said.

  Derek nodded. “I’m flattered that Sea Bounty has such a strong interest in my work. It’s an extremely generous offer.”

  “And there could be more.” Her smile was so wide, Derek found it almost frightening. She seemed to have more teeth than the average person. “The Sea Bounty team wants you onboard, Derek. With you as our Marketing Director, we know the public will come to embrace our product on a national level. Perhaps even international. Our slogan says we offer ‘That Tantalizing Taste You Will Never Forget’ and it’s accurate: the flavor is truly exquisite.”

  “Minerva, I must be honest with you. Your main product will be a hard sell. Let’s face it: the average American rarely buys taramasalata. A dip made with fish eggs … that’s pretty exotic stuff for the hotdog and hamburger crowd. I don’t want to land this job by fostering unreal expectations.”

  The waitress returned with Derek’s iced tea and then took their orders. Minerva picked the dragon roll while Derek decided on the avocado roll.

  “We realize taramasalata isn’t going to replace potato salad any time soon,” Minerva said. “Still, there was once a time when sushi was a hard sell.” She waved a hand toward the other diners. “Here we are today, eating raw fish like it’s going out of style. Don’t worry, we’re not expecting instant miracles. We’ve had our eye on you for quite some time. The work you’ve been doing for the Anderson & Powell agency is fabulous – the kind of big-picture thinking we like. And of course, your family is from Innsmouth, our base of operations. It’s like you were meant to be a part of our team.”

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” Derek said, “exactly why are you based out of Innsmouth? It’s not a thriving community. Far from it. That’s why my family left. I was just a kid at the time, but I remember, my mom used to complain all the time about how the whole town was falling apart. I must admit, my biggest reservation at this point is the thought of moving back to Innsmouth.”

  Minerva displayed another toothy smile. “Your family must have lived in south Innsmouth. Our offices and production facility are based in north Innsmouth. That area has been developed as part of a partnership between Sea Bounty and the U.S. government. The corporation owns a lovely row of homes on Coral Avenue, and one of them can be yours as part of your employment package. I know house number 347 is available. We’d be happy to add it in. A whole new house! We’ll even cover moving expenses. It’s only about twenty miles away, so you’ll be able to keep in touch with your friends here in Bellwood.”

  “The U.S. government is renovating Innsmouth? I haven’t heard about that on the news.”

  Minerva shrugged. “It’s not the kind of thing Sea Bounty would want the media to cover. No harm in telling you, though. Many years ago, the government dropped some bombs off the coast of Innsmouth. They also destroyed some buildings, all in response to public outcry over some persistent superstitions.”

  “That hardly seems likely. The government wouldn’t attack a community because of superstitions.”

  “You’re right. There’s more to the story, but to go over all the details would take a dozen lunches. And speaking of lunch, here comes our food.”

  The waitress brought their plates to the table and for the next few minutes, Derek and Minerva based their conversation on their meal selections. In time, Minerva returned to the topic of Innsmouth.

  “I won’t go into the whole history of Innsmouth,” she said, “but I should mention that many families in that area have a genetic disorder that gives them an unusual appearance. It’s been that way for generations. Also, some Innsmouth folks had unorthodox religious beliefs, back when the town was having problems. All that helped to fuel the fire. Members of prominent families were killed during the government attacks. Lawsuits cropped up – the whole ordeal has been tied up in red tape for decades. Finally, in collaboration with Sea Bounty, the government is working to fix what they destroyed in their ignorance.”

  “I can see why your company wouldn’t be publicizing any of this. What do the people with that disorder look like?”

  “It’s a condition with varying degrees of severity.” Minerva waved a slender hand around her face. “I have a very mild case of it myself. Full lips, prominent eyes – nothing too hideous, I hope! Do you think America should drop a bomb on me?”

  Derek laughed. “I’d refuse to pay my taxes if they did! I admit I was curious, but really, we don’t have to go into all those old scandals. If the government is making reparations, the community can only get better, right?”

  Minerva nodded. “Very true. Oh, I wanted to mention, I noticed on your Facebook page that your wife Edie is a preschool teacher. I took the liberty of making a few calls on her behalf. I’ve found a position for her with Gilman House, a prestigious, high-paying preschool. And for the record, your income with Sea Bounty will be three times your current salary. All that extra income and a beautiful new home – really, Derek, how can you refuse?”

  - - -

  At the end of their meeting, Derek told Minerva that he’d get back to her at the beginning of next week. He’d already decided he wanted to accept the offer, but he wasn’t sure how Edie would react. She enjoyed her job and had friends and family in Bellwood.

  He brought up the topic with her at dinner that night. At first, she wasn’t won over by the offer from Sea Bounty. But when she broke out the calculator and figured out their potential income and savings, he
r resistance began to soften.

  Finally they decided to take a drive through Innsmouth that weekend, to take at look at their proposed new neighborhood, Gilman House, and Sea Bounty headquarters.

  They arrived in Innsmouth around 8:30 a.m. Saturday. All the neighborhoods in the northern part of town were indeed attractive. The house at 347 Coral Avenue was a charming pale-blue bungalow with a large front yard and room for a garden in the back. They had to admit, it was exactly what they wanted in a home, even down to the quaint miniature-barn mailbox.

  Gilman House was also picture-perfect: a two-story, red-brick building surrounded by well-groomed hedges. Even though school wasn’t in session, children were having fun in the playground, accompanied by their parents or grandparents.

  “So many of those kids have buggy eyes,” Edie said. “That must be the genetic disorder you told me about. Look at that one by the slide. He hardly has any chin. Looks like a frog.”

  Derek noticed that two of the seniors in the park had bulbous eyes, thinning hair, hugely downturned mouths, and thick folds of skin under their chins. He pointed them out to Edie. “That couple there,” he said. “They must be an advanced case of the disorder. I can’t tell if they’re male or female.”

  “The one with the lace collar might be a woman,” Edie said, “but I wouldn’t bet the rent on it.”

  “If we take this offer, we’ll never have to pay rent again.”

  Their last stop was Sea Bounty headquarters. As they approached it from the main highway, Derek saw that the building was located on a bluff overlooking the ocean. It included a large warehouse, with a half-dozen trucks in its lot. No one else was around, so apparently work closed down over the weekend.

  Driving around the facility, Derek said, “They’ve sure got a huge production facility. I wouldn’t have thought there was so much demand for taramasalata.”

  “They must have a loyal following of customers,” Edie said, “and based on what you’ve told me, they’re aiming to grow. You know what I just realized? The front of the place faces the ocean instead of the road. Isn’t that funny?”

  The front entrance of the building was composed of a huge, weathered stone arch, obviously much older than the bright-red bricks around it. On either side of the entrance, two narrow stone paths led off into nearby trees.

  Derek parked the car near the entrance. “These stone paths are strange. They don’t seem to go anywhere. Let’s follow one of them.”

  They followed the path on the right side of the entrance into the trees. The path gradually widened to about three feet wide. It led to a stone stairway that had been carved into the side of the bluff. Long metal spikes had been driven into the stone on the outside edge of the stairs, with wooden planks wired up between the planks as a crude handrail.

  “This isn’t safe at all!” he said. “We’d better not go down those steps. Why are they even here? If I take the job, I’ll need to talk to them about this.”

  “Why? Unless it concerns marketing, you shouldn’t make waves,” Edie said. “But you’re right, it’s not safe. I’m surprised they haven’t been blocked off.”

  “I bet the main building used to be a different kind of fish business,” Derek said. “Maybe the fishermen had to climb up and down those steps to get to their boats.”

  They returned to the car. “I think we should drive through the rest of the city,” Edie said. “There must be some reason they’re willing to give you so much to work for them.”

  Derek gave his wife a hug. “You mean, besides my amazing marketing skills and dazzling intellect?”

  As they drove through Innsmouth, they saw many people in various stages of the genetic disorder. The community’s buildings became older and shoddier, the farther south they progressed. Twice they noticed abandoned buildings with stone entrances, much like the entrance of Sea Bounty. One of the buildings had a weatherworn, hand-painted sign in its front yard which read CHURCH OF DAGON.

  “Wow, that’s the first time I’ve seen a typo in the name of a church,” Edie said. “That’s supposed to be Dragon, right?”

  “No, it’s Dagon,” Derek said. “I only lived in Innsmouth for a little while while I was a kid, but I remember that word, Dagon. Once I was driving with my mom and as we passed some run-down building, she said, ‘That damned Church of Dagon! How can they call themselves a church?’ I remember being shocked because my mom never cussed.”

  It was getting dark, so they decided to head back home to Bellwood. They decided to take a route that bordered the ocean. At one point, Edie pointed ahead, out the window toward a dark, distant figure on a stretch of beach. “What’s that? Is it … an animal?”

  The shape appeared to be a hunched figure that loped by the water’s edge. As they looked at it, it suddenly looked back in their direction. It turned and ran directly into the sea – and then it was gone.

  “What was that?” Edie cried. “It wasn’t a person, was it?”

  “I don’t think so,” Derek replied. “Probably some kind of wild animal. Very strange.”

  “We’ve seen a lot of strange things today.”

  He glanced over at his wife, who was staring into the distance, gently biting her lower lip. He knew that look. It was her worried face.

  “We’re not taking the Sea Bounty offer, are we?” he said gently. “I don’t think you could take teaching a bunch of bug-eyed kids all day.”

  Edie frowned thoughtfully. “They do have a rough road ahead for them, don’t they? They don’t look too awful as kids, but when they get older…”

  “They’ll become a bunch of frog-faces.” Derek shrugged. “Not much to look forward to.”

  “Maybe… But then, maybe that means they need more help than other kids. They need to learn early on, looks aren’t everything. They have good minds and they need to use them. They need a good teacher. One who isn’t afraid to be a part of their strange world.” She sighed deeply. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

  Derek smiled. “Innsmouth, here we come.”

  - - -

  The next few months seemed like a mad blur for Derek and Edie. Thankfully, Sea Bounty provided complete packing, moving and even decorating services, so the transition was fairly quick and painless.

  Derek researched the taramasalata market extensively, and learned as much as he could about the product produced by Sea Bounty. The eggs they used were sweeter and less pungent than most commercial caviars and roes, and came from a type of fish exclusive to the company. This was the silkfish, and its eggs were collected from a trench located off the coast of Innsmouth.

  It soon became clear to Derek that no pictures of the silkfish would ever be used in the product’s marketing. The average silkfish was about two feet long, with silver scales, coal-black eyes, and crooked teeth set in a cruel sneer of a mouth.

  Edie found the children of Gilman House to be especially friendly and playful. After work, she would often refer to them as her ‘little tadpoles’ when telling Derek about their antics.

  Derek started his sales push for Sea Bounty by upgrading their website and then establishing social media and email campaigns. The company had been using outdated methods to sell their products and he made it his mission to bring them up to speed.

  He worked with an Innsmouth graphic designer to create a new logo, a new brochure and an increased number of ads for women’s magazines. He also arranged for Sea Bounty sales representatives to attend a variety of food fairs and other cuisine-oriented events.

  One thing that puzzled Derek was the fact that most of the facility’s production took place at night. Whenever he looked into the production area during the day, there would only be a handful of workers. And yet the next morning, pallets would be filled with jars of product.

  Minerva worked a few doors down the hall, and one day, he stopped by her office and asked her about the after-hours production schedule.

  “It’s best to work with silkfish eggs in the cool of the evening,” she said from behind her mah
ogany desk. The screensaver on her computer depicted colorful fish swimming near beautiful pink and lavender coral. “Plus, many of our Innsmouth employees prefer late shifts. I’ve mentioned the genetic disorder, yes? Walking around during the day makes some of them self-conscious.”

  “Another thing I’ve been wondering about… How does the company pull the eggs from the trench?” he asked. “That must require specialized equipment. Like a bathysphere, maybe? Fancy diving apparatus? Maybe we can show how it’s done in a video for YouTube and our website.”

  “Sorry, but no. Trade secret!” Minerva said with a wink.

  “You can’t even tell your Marketing Director? I’m like the company priest – I should know everything that goes on around here.”

  “That’s true,” said Minerva, “but I’d first need to get the permission of the owner, Mrs. Hamogeorgakis. She’s funny about revealing too much about the company. I’ll ask after you’ve been here a few months.”

  “I haven’t met Mrs. Hamogeorgakis yet. How often does she come to the office?”

  “Rarely, and only in the evening. She doesn’t leave her home very often. Very private person. She has the disorder and it’s … very strong in her.”

  “Hamogeorgakis. That’s Greek, right?”

  “Yes. Some folks in the Mediterranean have the disorder, too. Which reminds me … while you’re here, I have a suggestion about the website.” She typed the company’s web address into her browser. “I love this new section you’ve added about serving suggestions. Could you also add a section on the history of taramasalata? Really push the Greek connection. Show that it’s an international delicacy.”

  “I like that! Yep, I’ll get right on it.”

  “Wonderful. I want you to know, sales are way up, so it’s clear that all your efforts are really paying off.” Minerva gazed fondly at him. Her large green eyes seemed to glow with happiness. “We want more people munching on our delightful fish eggs, Derek, and you’re making it happen. Each day, you’re helping to shape our glorious future.”