by S.J. Drew
how this thing got in and I have no idea how we're going to get it back out again."
"I could try hitting it with the crowbar until it retreats," Leah suggested.
"You primitive primates are so violent," replied a voice.
They turned and stared at the monster.
It blinked its eyelid-jaws and strained its tentacles at them. In a moment, it almost seemed to sigh and its tentacles went slack.
"Did-did you say something?" Maryann asked.
"Ah, you can understand. I thought I would have to be subject to further undignified primate violence before I could make myself understood to you," it said, now tapping some of its tentacles against the floor like an impatient human tapping its fingers. "Honestly, you primates have no respect for your Elders."
"Why do you sound like Will Friedle?" Leah asked.
"It sounds like my sister," Nora said.
"It sounds like my brother," Maryann countered.
"No, it sounds like one of my more annoying cousins," Isabella replied.
"There is no sound," the creature said. "I am projecting my thoughts and your primitive primate brains cannot conceive of the scope of them, so it is translating them into something you can begin to comprehend. Therefore the words that you are hearing in your minds are based on your perception of your limited world. I do not know what a Will Friedle or these other creatures are, but I can only assume they are mighty, powerful beings with mortal voices worthy of my presence."
"Yeah, well, you sound like my sister when she's whining to get her way," Nora said.
"Oh, that's not very mighty," it said.
"And Will Friedle is a voice actor. Sometimes he does some serious voices, but right now you are sounding to me like a teenage sidekick who lost his pants a lot."
As much as a giant eyeball could look put out, it managed to. "I really don't think you're taking me seriously."
"You are stuck in my abuela's fireplace," Leah said. "That's not very dignified. How did this even happen?"
"Are you going to stop hitting me in your primitive primate way?" it asked.
"For now."
It blinked its eyelid-jaws and seemed to sigh. "Far beyond your comprehension is a space where the Elder Ones exist. Older than planets, older than stars, ancient beyond the measure of time, neither alive nor dead, they drift through the endless void and dream. Should they roll over, they would crush moons. Should they yawn, whole suns could be sucked into their gaping maws. And they dream. They dream of doors that open to worlds full of life and energy that they may devour and become stronger. And in their dreams, they call to those that would hear them and order them to open those doors. The doors open, tiny points of light in an infinitely dark sky, beckoning the Elder Ones to bring chaos and destruction. They go forth through the doors and return after a day or an eternity more powerful than before, and they go to sleep again. And again they call to those that would hear, and dream of more worlds to devour."
The band couldn't reply for a moment.
"That's very Lovecraftian," Leah finally said, "but it doesn't explain why you're in mi abuela's fireplace."
"Much is destroyed even while the Elder Ones sleep and dream. The small and weak are crushed or eaten without the Elders even noticing. When doors open, sometimes they don't notice right away. It takes some time for them to emerge from their dreaming slumber. I saw a door and I came through before another could do so. But the door is not open correctly. The stars are not in the proper alignment and now I find my third left eye caught between worlds. I can neither go through nor go back."
"Third left eye?" Maryann repeated. "Ewwww!!! I thought the eyelid-jaws and tentacles were gross!"
"It's a Lovecraftian horror," Leah said. "I'm not surprised, but it's still just gross."
The creature rolled its giant eye. "I don't judge you for having only two pathetic eyeballs and no tentacles at all."
"You said that the Elder Ones are ancient, right?" Isabella asked.
"Beyond the measure of time."
"Yes, but relatively speaking, are you not as elder as some of the others out there? Because you sound like a kid who got in over his, er, its head."
The tentacles twitched impatiently. "I guess as you understand age and time and youth and adulthood, you might say I'm an adolescent Elder One."
"Which is why you tried to go through a door you wouldn't fit through?" Nora asked.
"Well, look," it whined, "it's really hard surviving out there. The Elder Ones eat or crush so many without ever knowing. The only way to not get eaten is dodge a lot or get big and powerful too. I saw an opportunity, and I took it. How was I supposed to know not all doors work right?"
"Hey! You were going to eat our world!" Maryann said.
"Well, yes, of course."
"I don't want my world to get eaten!"
"I'm sure no one does, but that's not really the point, is it? I'm bigger; therefore I eat what I want."
Maryann jabbed one of the tentacles with her fireplace poker.
"Owww!"
"That's for being a big bully and trying to eat my world!"
"You primates are so violent," it muttered.
"Says the thing that brings chaos and destruction," Nora retorted.
"It's what I do! I'm a... what was it, short primate?"
"Lovecraftian horror," Leah replied dryly.
"Yes. It seems this Lovecraft being knew of us and described us. Perhaps he or she or it was called to by one of the Elder Ones. I am only what I am. I sleep, I dream, I devour worlds. Or at least that's what I was trying to do. I don't suppose you'll finish opening the door?"
"Hell, no!" they answered in unison.
"Well, I had to ask. So can you get me out of here? I'm sure you don't want me in your world."
Nora thought she heard a little desperation in the thing's voice in her mind. "If your third left eyeball is stuck in here, does this mean the rest of you is stuck out there and unable to get away from the bigger Elder Ones?"
"Um, no," it answered, looking slightly askance.
"Yes it does. You're only talking to us because you're afraid the longer you're stuck here, the more likely you'll get crushed or eaten."
"Fine, fine, yes. I can't really move and that's not good. Time doesn't mean too much, but it really is only a matter of time before one of the bigger Elder Ones ends up too close to me. So we need to help each other out here. I promise I won't try to drive you insane either. You get rid of me; I get out of the way. See, we all win."
"Until you try to come back to devour our world," Maryann huffed.
"It's what I do," it said.
"Did you eat some of the fabric in here?" Leah asked.
"Um, no."
"How much did you eat and don't lie or I'll hit you again."
" Just the organic material within reach."
"All this is just great," Isabella sighed. "So you just came through a door you thought was open? No one was calling? No one was summoning you?"
"Not that I am aware of. I'm sure this would have worked better if there had been someone on this side trying to open the door."
"So how do we send something back that wasn't summoned?" Leah asked.
Maryann and Isabella looked at each other. "Um, I don't know," Maryann answered. "This, um, doesn't usually happen. Like ever."
"Then how about some kind of banishing ritual thing?" Leah asked.
"Maybe," Isabella replied. "But it would take some time. It's a lot easier to shut a door when it's open right."
"Tell me about it," the creature sighed.
"And if it doesn't work, I will hit you until you go back," Leah snapped.
"What if that doesn't work?" it asked.
"Well, I'll feel a little better."
"Primates," it sighed.
Maryann and Isabella consulted with each other on potential banishing rituals while Leah looked over her grandmother's sewing work and made some cost
ume sketches. Nora devoted her time to the band's social media strategy.
"I don't suppose one of you could toss me some more of this fabric," the creature asked.
"Be quiet, Friedle-goth," Leah said.
"Friedle-goth?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Why not? Anyway, no one here is going to feed the monster."
"But I hunger! And that is not my name!"
"It is now," she replied. "You be quiet so they can figure a way to get you out of here. The more you disturb them, the longer you sit there."
It said a word that did not translate in any of their minds but they assumed the word was some sort of curse. "Very well," it sighed.
After another fifteen minutes, Isabella spoke up. "Ladies, we need to huddle, and not in front of Friedle-goth."
"Oh, very nice," it huffed. "I won't interfere with your rituals. I want to get out of here as much as you want me out of here."
"I'm sorry, I don't trust monsters," Maryann said.
The left the sewing room and went into the kitchen for a snack.
"So what's the deal?" Leah asked.
"We need your help with this," Isabella said.
"Me? I don't do this sort of thing. I mean, I do ask St. Cecilia to help us out, but that's mostly for our career."
"We know. How can I put this? We need permission," Maryann said.
"Permission?"
"This house is dedicated to your God. Really dedicated. We don't want to try anything without permission because it could make things a lot worse."
"Wait," Nora said, "are you saying this house is defended against using magic?"
"Kind of," Maryann replied. "Okay, you know how a graveyard or a church is holy ground?"
"Right."
"Well, being holy grants the church or graveyard certain protections. We'd have to be very careful about the kinds of magic we'd use in those