Page 57 of Dark Stars
The insects swarmed, ants and roaches andworms and so much more, poured through the broken wards and overthe Dark Young as they screeched and lunged to fight. Though Bobbyitched to deal with the little bastards himself, terrified of whatcould happen if they got their nasty little feelers on Alejo, Bobbytrusted him. No more throwing boyfriends in the river for their owngood.
He couldn't anyway, because somebody had todeal with the mystery problem that was still shrouded.
"I see a fourth ward," Harold said. "Goingin."
"I'll go with you, but I want to remainundercover still."
"Yeah, I like that shrouded area less andless."
They slipped past a couple of thoroughlypre-occupied Dark Young, who might be great and terrible andconniving little bastards, but even they struggled against beingcovered by hundreds of thousands of ants.
"This should be the last one. I see nothingpast this one, unless it's also shrouded, but that's unlikely,given how much magic was already required to build four concentricwards," Harold said, looking briefly over his shoulder where Jonesand Alejo were battling the Dark Young together, all the humanslittering the ground, out cold. Man, humans sure were easier todeal with when you had a vampire around.
Bobby laughed briefly. "You know, I shouldhave realized sooner just how deep your bond with him is, giventhat you've never listened to him or done what he's said a singleday of your life, and I know he occasionally uses his mind controlto stop humans from doing something stupid."
"He's something stupid if he thinks he'dever get away with that shit with me," Harold said. "I've punchedhim in the face for trying before, and I'll do it again."
"Shut up!" Jones bellowed from across theclearing.
Grinning, Harold bent to his work, eyesglowing softly again as he set to breaking the fourth and hopefullyfinal ward.
As it broke, a roar filled the clearing,causing everyone and everything to freeze, even the insects. In thecenter they'd worked so hard to reach. Bobby hissed and gave uphiding himself as the obscuring mist faded away as though neverthere, revealing exactly the problem he had hoped not to see: apiece of Shub-Niggurath's shadow given a form that poorly imitatedthe mortal things around them, crudely human in form, but withlimbs too long, fingers too great in number and in the wrong placesalong their hands and feet, skin a weird, patchy gray-green, andhair that twisted and twined and writhed on its own and was hard tolook at if you weren't primordial.
Ctheldush…his great-grandmotherhissed, sibilant and mean.
Bobby reached into his pocket and withdrewthe talisman of R'lyeh given to him by Cthulhu in thanks for theMother's Milk. "Thank you, Grandfather," he murmured, beforesnapping the talisman in half and absorbing the power stowed withinit. It was hot, tingling, filled him a thousand times more thaneating even hundreds of his stupid niblings ever could.
Ready as he would ever be, Bobby slippedinto the primordial dark, human form melting away to tentacles andmottled skin and firefly-yellow eyes.Leave the humans alone.You've gotten more than you'll ever need from them now. Stop beinggreedy.
The shadow ignored him, beyond caring aboutsuch trivial things as need and greed. Shub-Niggurath wanted untilshe didn't want anymore, and it was as simple and complicated asthat.
Their anger was very real though, hot andstinging, for all the ways he'd taken from her and given to otherrelatives. They lashed out, razor sharp, thorny tentacles flying,infinitely more dangerous than what Bobby possessed, his natureinfluenced by his father.
Didn't mean he was weak and helpless though.And he'd come prepared with something even this shadow could notbest. First, though, he had to get in close, because careless orsloppy behavior would kill innocents.
So he fought, not to win, but to gainground, enduring the thorns that ripped him apart, the sharp edgesthat hacked off pieces of him, his own hot blood making everythingslippery and more treacherous, the stabbing blows that took out somany of his eyes. Though he fought only a shadow, still it dwarfedhim, because though he was old, Shub-Niggurath was infinitelyolder, older than universes that had risen and fallen and turned todust that formed the next universe.
Someone, somewhere, was calling his name.Screaming it, maybe. Would have to wait.
You won't last much longer, littleabomination.
I'll last…long…enough…
You can't stop me. I'll eat your friends,then everyone else, then your little toy last. Then maybe I'll goeat your seed-giver.
His relatives threatened to eat his fatherat least once a century. It was barely worth noting anymore.
Ignoring the pain, the blood, the dizzinessand how he maybe had three of his eyes left, he made a last greatlunge for the gaping maw of the shadow—and lobbed in the vialgifted to him by his mother. The shadow's tongue snatchedreflexively and wrapped around it, shattering it to nothing in amoment.
Flooding its own mouth with the Venom of theSecret Daughter.
Bobby withdrew, moving as quickly as hepossibly could with a battered, broken, rapidly bleeding out body,dragging himself out of the primordial dark as much as he couldbefore passing out entirely.
Chapter Twenty-One
Starlight was the first thing he saw when hewoke, but it wasn't the starlight of Earth. No, this was the darkstars of his home. The shattered moon was brilliant red, hints ofthe full moon it would have been once at this point in itsorbit.
He licked dry lips. Human-shaped. That was agood sign for his healing, though he still felt like microwaveddeath. Bracing himself, he stopped as he registered liquid. Water?He held up a hand, which shimmered faintly, the liquid drippingmore like oil than water. Regeneration fluid. All the Old Onescould heal to some degree, but only Cthulhu had true regenerativeabilities, the kind that came from a special fluid kept in sackshidden well behind all his feelers.
