( Read more... )

let snow and silence mark the site of my unseemly appetite

Nyarlathotep traces the roughshod paths, its form flowing over each rock strewn across the riverbed as if it were ink slowly spilt on papyrus, thick and oily and overflowing. Its belly held low to the earth, the Elder Thing flits and flutters from empty space to empty space, sharp teeth ( Read more... )

“Is this all of it?” the darker man asks, his tone decidedly flat.

“Yessir.”

“All of it?” he repeats.

The lighter-skinned man nods. “Yes.”

The darker man’s equally dark eyes peer out from behind thin, rimless glasses. The lighter man swallows, and there is silence.

The outdoor café they are attending is, decidedly, a drab little ( Read more... )

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