Wednesday, May 05, 2010

Photoblog: Cthulhu in My Kitchen

On October 30, 2007, my dear mate R.K. and I moved to our present lodgings. Having escaped the horrors that had unfolded on Cooper Street and subsequently overseas in Japan, we were content to see that the house, while of 1970s provenance, was solid and well-built, and located in an upstanding neighbourhood. Indeed, the man charged with maintaining the building was of a reliable sort, and we soon found ourselves fairly able to attend to life's daily routines and requirements with nary a thought to the deep, dark underside of the world we had previously glimpsed.

There were occasional reminders, usually in the form of machinery spontaneously and mechanically roaring briefly to life before falling silent once again, but these oddities we were able to ascribe to the electrical fluctuations that are an inherent part of today's frenetic, hectic lifestyle. So, too, could we casually dismiss the occasional glimpse of something moving silently through the darkness outdoors, as our newfound peace helped us to convince ourselves, and others, that these were but the most pedestrian of beings, animals forced to share our urban world: raccoons, skunks, squirrels.

The night in question of which I am writing was ordinary enough. Having consumed a hearty meal of sausage, perogie and vegetables, we retired, as was our custom, for an evening of leisure and entertainment in front of a motion picture played on our television. Now, it is true that the fare was of a harsher, somewhat macabre bent. Yes, we did watch a movie about those who are neither living nor dead and who walk the night in search of blood, but I can most definitively assure you that what I later saw that night can not be dismissed as a product of a most prodigious imagination spurred on by the viewing and discussion earlier that night! No, what I saw was much more horrible, much more disturbed and fulsome and replete with horror.

R.K. having retired to his personal study to take care of some pressing business, I started my routine of closing the house for the night. I extinguished a number of lights in the main area of the house, and then made my way to the kitchen. I was hardly prepared for the sight which I then beheld. It was a monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with a head that exploded into a mass of feelers, a rubbery looking body, and a short but thick whitish tail. I had apparently surprised it, for it was about to consume an innocent party.

Cthulhu in My Kitchen


Aghast and paralyzed with fear, I watched as the horrible beast reared up, then began the slow process of enveloping its prey in its huge, slimy mouth.

Cthulhu in My Kitchen

Cthulhu in My Kitchen

Cthulhu in My Kitchen


None of my previous experiences had prepared me for the vivid and horrifying intensity of this scene. I felt myself starting to swoon, but even as my body swayed, my eyes were further opened, as if some evil force had entered and was causing me to watch though my mind was averse. Much as I wanted to avert my gaze, I was being forced to watch.

Just when I felt I could bear it no longer, the beast reared up again and made a series of retching sounds, followed by a long, low sound similar to a fog horn blowing on a lonely, dark night. Then, with one final heave, it expelled what was left of its victim.

Cthulhu in My Kitchen


The monster and I locked eyes, though I would not be able to describe where those eyes might have been on this fierce and horrible creature. After what felt like an eternity, I finally fell to the ground, in complete collapse at the horror of this sight. As blackness took me over, I could hear a slithering sound, which shook through me like thunder. This is where they say R.K. later found me, curled up on the cold ceramic floor in front of the dishwashing machine, a number of smashed kiwis clutched in my hands, the juice running down my shirt sleeves and onto my pants.


With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft for stealing a few of his words when describing the monster, and also for trying (poorly) to mimic his writing style. What can I say? Sometimes I get bored in the kitchen. Other times, my camera is handy.

6 comments:

Mark Reynolds said...

That was hilarious. But I have to ask, as a concerned friend: are you on drugs?

julie said...

LOL. As I said in my tiny disclaimer at the end, sometimes I get bored in the kitchen, and sometimes my camera is handy when I get bored. And sometimes those two events happen to coincide with me reading Lovecraft, and then, upon wandering into the kitchen for a snack, realizing that the leek sitting out on the counter looks suspiciously like it is about to gobble up the kiwis sitting next to it.

Anonymous said...

LMAO! That was really quite enjoyable and extremely hilarious! I really must get away from Facebook sometimes and go back to reading blogs!

Anonymous said...

ps....the above "anonymous" was I, Nicole :)

julie said...

For the record, Nicole, this blog does eventually post onto FB...when FB feels like uploading it. (This one is there.)

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