This was the third time I’d shoved the black cult wear into the washing machine. Who would have thought eagle blood was a pain in the ass to get out? You know, I argued we stuck with fish, like we’d always done, but no. The book demanded eagles, for whatever reason.
A breeze rushed into the room fluttering the clothes on the hanging line and bringing with it the crisp smell of water, salt and fish. There wasn’t a damn place in this town it didn’t smell fish. Even in the washing room filled with laundry detergent that was the subtle backdrop of fish.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I looked down to see an unknown number. Not again. The little village was the cult but despite that they still wanted to maintain an air of secrecy. I mean they do have a point. It doesn’t sound right to demand virgin blood over a cup of tea. Something’s just missing. I answered the phone.
“In the middle of the whale’s asph-”
“I don’t have time for riddles John. I’m still in the goddamn washing room trying to get rid on your robe. Eagle blood? What in the eight thousand depths made you think of that huh?”
“Okay, okay, I owe you one. Relax man. Tonight the stars align for the first time in millenia. At about ten we will summon the great one. The ruler of all rules. The horror of-”
I hung up, titles went on forever. This particular day had been the everything anyone spoke of, yet he still felt the need to remind me. He probably reminded everybody. That’s how you become the cult’s secretary I guess.
After the eagle blood finally washed off I barely had enough time to get through the rest of my duties. Open the cages, force food down the virgins necks, threaten them to be silent, clean the cursed books, feed the undead librarian, pray to Chtulu, the king of all kings, the horror of all… Dammit! Clean the children, check them for diseases, see how much their tentacles have grown. Give the robe to John.
Finally, the night was pitch black and the stars filled each inch of the night sky. The robes which were usually black gained an elusive quality in the night. One could only see the outlines and the face which was tainted slightly gray by the bright, full moon.
I saw that they’d already prepared the ritual, distinct shapes stretched into the sand, candles on each edge, tied naked virgins in the middle, and John reading text of the black book on his phone.
Then, it was time for the end of the world, for justice to take its place, for the unworthy and foolish to perish, for… Damnit! We started the chant which only grew louder until the drifts of of the waves swallowed the virgins.
Silence. A ringtone. John’s cursing.
A faint murmuring escaped from the ocean and Black shapes walked out. Cthulhu had answered.