Cthulhu's Daughter and Other Horror Tales

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Cthulhu's Daughter and Other Horror Tales Page 2

by Rhiannon Frater


  Leaning toward her, I whisper, “Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.”

  Though she doesn’t understand the words, I can see the terror they stir in her. Somewhere deep inside her primal brain the words have meaning.

  I snag a fistful of her hair and she screams. Daniel cries out my name, swerving off the road and onto the sidewalk. I can hear the ocean waves crashing against the shore, the winds howling, and the chant that fills me with purpose.

  “In his house at R'lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming,” I hiss. “My father awaits my summons.”

  I release her, pop the seatbelt buckle, and scramble over my aunt and cousin to escape the Jeep. They try to hold onto me, but I’m too strong for them now. I know my purpose. I fight them with teeth and nails and fall onto the street with blood running down my chin.

  Racing away from them, I sense where I must go. I know what I must do. The words sing on the wind.

  Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

  I race past the honking cars, the shouting people, the crying children, the metal monsters that will soon be crushed beneath the power of my father. I shed myself of the clothing of the humans.

  The first line of the storm erupts overhead, rain slicing downward to bite at my exposed flesh. I laugh into the torrent and sprint toward the churning waters.

  Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn.

  I am in my father’s dream now. He sees me running to the pier. I can sense him stirring. I am the spark of life that will compel him out of his deathless slumber so he can wipe away the human filth. My hair writhes around me like his tentacles writhe around his head. I am his daughter and I will awaken him.

  My feet slapping along the cold, wet pier, I sprint to the end. Flinging out my arms, I feel the wind and rain spiraling around me. Something great, dark, and ancient stirs inside of my soul, driving out the humanity that has tainted me for so long.

  I reach the end of the pier and hold out my arms to embrace the coming storm. I understand why my mother was dragged down into R'lyeh, the ancient city of the Old Ones, the ancient gods. I am Cthulhu’s daughter and it is my cry that will summon him forth to destroy the world.

  “Lulu!” It’s the voice of my human cousin.

  I turn to see him drenched in salt water, struggling against the storm to reach me. The last human spark inside of me mourns for him, but I am beyond such human emotions now.

  “Y gnaiih Cthulhu nog! Y gnaiih Cthulhu nog!” I cry out.

  My father, Cthulhu, come!

  My cousin grabs my arm, trying to wrest me away. I grip his throat in my hand. My skin is so white against his tanned flesh. Twisting about, I drag him with me. Daniel claws at my hand, trying to free himself, but already his blood is bright red beneath my nails.

  The darkness under the ocean waves is rising up. I can see it clearly. I fling my cousin into the water and watch his brightness and beauty be consumed by the blackness that dwells beneath.

  The ocean surge grows before me, building in height and power. It will soon crash down upon me and deliver me to my father.

  Raising up my hands, I scream into the wind and spray.

  “Y gnaiih Cthulhu nog!”

  And he does.

  The Monster with the Human Face

  Flesh and Circuits is one of those strange little stories that grabbed my imagination and wouldn’t let go. I wasn’t going to include this story in the collection originally because of the horror theme and the variety of monsters inside the tales. But then I realized Flesh and Circuits features one of the most terrifying monsters of all: The monster with a human face.

  Though it would have been easy to stick with the cliché killer robot, the artificial life form in the story, Henrietta, embodies a lot of human characteristics that the villain of the piece, Mrs. LeDay, completely lacks. The primary theme of the story is what makes a mother a mother. Though Mrs. LeDay is Andy’s biological mother, it’s the iridescent robot that secures Andy’s devotion from the moment he sees her.

  This short story was conceived for a specific anthology, but was rejected outright. The editor wanted massive changes that would have shredded the plotline and made the story completely different. Something other than my conception. Therefore, I decided to not even try to rewrite the story to meet the editor’s suggestions, but tuck it away until I found the perfect place for it. It lived for a short time online, but I took it down once the site it was posted on began to charge to read it (without giving me a royalty).

  Henrietta remains one of my favorite characters. I won’t lie. I’d love to one day write a full length novel about her.

  In the end, the story does fit well in this collections theme of monsters. Mrs. LeDay embodies many monstrous elements of humanity. In many ways, she is the scariest monster of all.

  Enjoy!

  Flesh and Circuits

  “Are you happy to be here?” the little boy asked.

  The robot started to answer, but her new employer interrupted.

  “Don’t be stupid. She’s a robot. She’s here ‘cause I rented her to take care of your scrawny ass.” Ms. LeDay’s voice was harsh with annoyance and she slammed the front door closed behind them.

  Henrietta kept her purple eyes downcast, standing timidly just inside the foyer. Ms. LeDay was almost six feet tall and towered nearly a foot over the diminutive robot. The blond human was attractive, but her presence was intimidating. Henrietta felt it was best if she took on a submission stance considering Ms. LeDay’s irritable mood. Though she appeared to be placidly awaiting new orders, her sensors were quickly scanning her surroundings.

  “I think she looks nice,” the boy, around seven years old, decided, ignoring his mother’s outburst.

  “She’s not nice. She’s a robot! And a cheap one at that. She just better do her job right, or it’s back to the rental agency for another one. I can’t believe I had to settle on such an old model.”

  Ms. LeDay’s words were hurtful, yet truthful. Henrietta was out of date, and, therefore, regulated to the poorer families in the Outlands. It had been a steady fall from grace since she was first released from the factory and into service. Twenty years of progress in robotics had her on the verge of being obsolete. She was painfully aware of this reality and her probable fate. Henrietta knew from the information downloaded into memory that Ms. LeDay, a widow and single mother, was lower management and most likely destined to stay there despite her ambitions. Henrietta was mostly a strain on her budget, despite her lower price tag.

  Timidly, Henrietta lifted her head to scrutinize the little boy. He was an earnest little thing with hazel eyes and sandy hair. He was staring at her intently from where he was leaning over the back of the glossy white couch. A noisy action movie hovered in the air behind him.

  The boy smiled at the robot. “I like her.”

  “Well, good, ‘cause we’re stuck with her creaky ass. At least now I can stay late at work and possibly get that promotion instead of worrying about you.” Ms. LeDay fussed with the outdated security system, reentering her codes over and over again in an attempt to get it to work.

  “She’s pretty, too,” the little boy added, his smile widening.

  This declaration surprised Henrietta. As one of the first robot lines released by the now defunct Anderson-Moore Robotics, she was decidedly bulky in appearance and nowhere near as attractive as the human-like simuloids that were now so popular. When her nanny bot line had been designed there had been very strict laws enforced by the government. All robots had to look non-human for easy identification. Henrietta’s body was iridescent synthetic flesh and lightly padded for the comfort of her young charges. A skirt matching her skin color was connected to her waist and flowed to her knees. Her face was female in appearance. She did not have hair, but the back of her head had been sculpted to give the illusion of chignon. To give her expression, she had fine thin plastic eyebrows and a moving silicon mouth. Sadly, her lips were now out of sync with her vo
cal program and she tended to duck her head when she spoke.

  The boy continued to smile at Henrietta. “What’s her name?”

  Ms. LeDay let out an explosive sigh. “Henrietta. How boring is that?”

  “I like it.”

  “You like everything.”

  The boy shrugged.

  Ms. LeDay finally gave up on trying to activate the security system. “Well, just don’t stand there, Henrietta. Go say hi to the kid. I need a drink. Stupid security system is just one more thing I can’t afford to fix.” The blond kicked off her shoes and dumped her purse and briefcase by the door before padding off to a small bar near the doorway to the kitchen.

  “My name is Andy,” the little boy said as the robot awkwardly approached him.

  Henrietta was self conscious of her gait. Ten years earlier she had saved her charge from being run over by a transport and had suffered extreme damage to her legs and hips. She had been repaired sufficiently to restore her mobility. As an older model, she was maintained at working level condition and nothing more by the Caretakers Rental Agency. They didn’t want to sink more money into her than necessary to keep her on the rental list. She hoped to take her Liberation Test soon and score well enough to enter society as an emancipated artificial being. Then she would not be at the mercy of her owners.

  “Hello, Andy. I am Henrietta. Your nanny bot,” she began her introductory speech.

  “He knows that, fucktard,” Ms. LeDay snapped. “Do your job. Amuse him or something.” Spinning around and clutching her drink, Ms. LeDay swept out of the room.

  Andy shrugged again. “Mom gets mad a lot.”

  “I noticed,” Henrietta said and tilted her head. “But we will do our best to keep to ourselves so she can work toward her promotion.”

  A spectacular explosion filled the room and the holograms continued their battle behind the little boy. The room was large and sparsely furnished. The most expensive thing in the house was the holographic projectors embedded in the walls. The house was old fashioned, built on a concrete slab and made of actual bricks. The high ceilings had old fashioned lights installed and they gave off a somber yellow glow.

  “She won’t get it,” Andy said, matter-of-fact.

  “Perhaps she will and you can move to the Inner City instead of being in the Outlands.”

  “Nah.” Andy shrugged again. “No one really gets out of the Outlands. They only end up here.”

  As someone who had fallen from the grace of the beauty that was the Inner City, Henrietta knew that sadly this was quite true.

  “Show me your room,” she said to change the somber subject.

  “Okay,” the boy said.

  Andy reached out and touched the hologram. It froze in mid-action sequence. Shyly taking her hand, together they walked up the stairs.

  ***

  Later that night, Henrietta carefully turned down Andy’s bed. His room was like the rest of the house: stark and impersonal. It was a far cry from the luxuries her former charges had enjoyed. They had lived in the splendid suspended buildings of the Inner City. Whereas those first charges had been a bit spoiled, Andy was humble and also, she realized, quite perceptive. As the night had worn on, it had become very apparent that Andy was aware of how the constrictions his place in society and that of his mother impacted on their lifestyle.

  “It’s okay that we’re too poor for a simuloid,” he assured Henrietta when he crawled into bed. His hover bed was tethered to the wall to keep it from sliding out of position. Obviously a mounting moor was broken and had not been repaired. “I like you. You’re nice.”

  “Thank you, Andy.”

  The robot settled beside him to read a bedtime story. She realized that despite the discomfort of her surroundings, she was quite pleased with her new post. As she grew closer and closer to being completely obsolete, she was grateful for every position to which she was assigned. She had been feeling quite lonely at the rental agency as she waited for her new assignment. It had been nearly a month since she had last seen David, a friend and fellow robot. David’s model was obsolete and he was rarely rented out unless someone wanted to make an impression on friends by renting a butler for a dinner party.

  The little boy was quite sweet and she found herself enjoying his company. Her last post had been less than desirable. The children had been rowdy and difficult to control. More than once they had sabotaged her controls, rendering her immobile while they ran amok. Happily, the rental agency had blacklisted the family from further leasing privileges and had placed Henrietta back on the rental roster.

  Reaching up, she tapped her finger three times in the air to signal the projectors and immediately the holoputer screen hovered in front of her. Quickly, she worked on the glowing interface and found a suitable story. Drawing her finger along the glowing frame of the screen, it slid down to simulate a book complete with illustrations.

  “You don’t have to read to me. My Mom doesn’t. I can just go to sleep,” Andy offered.

  Ducking her head so he could not see her unsynchronized mouth, she said, “I would like to read to you. I always find the stories informative and inspirational.”

  Andy giggled. “You talk funny.”

  “Do I?” She processed this. She was uncertain of what he meant.

  “My Mom always yells and tells me to deal. You talk all soft and nice.”

  Henrietta gently laid her hand on the boy’s arm. “I am here to take care of you and I will.”

  She was rewarded with a small smile and the sight of the little boy snuggling down under his covers. Satisfied that her charge was comfortable, she began to read.

  ***

  As always, Henrietta quickly acclimated to her new assignment and worked hard to please her employer. The nanny bot learned that Ms. LeDay preferred to have little interaction with her son and that she expected the robot to keep him busy. Ms. LeDay spent long days at the office followed by a few hours each night socializing with the other managers and clients. Andy’s mother often returned home inebriated and surly. Henrietta quickly learned to have Andy safely tucked into bed by the time her employer arrived home.

  The desire to procreate was not in her programming but she found herself curious about the mother/child bond. In none of her former assignments had she seen such a sad disconnection between the parent and offspring. It was in her programming to be nurturing and provide comfort to the children in her care, but Ms. LeDay seemed to lack that basic desire. It was clear that she regarded Andy as a nuisance and had a minimal interest in him. Andy, sensing this truth, avoided his mother. Recognizing Andy’s need for more emotional comfort than her previous charges, Henrietta found herself stepping beyond the normal boundaries of her programming to accommodate his needs.

  As the weeks slid by, Henrietta found Andy refreshingly different from all her former charges. He was like a little human computer with a keen photographic memory and an understanding of his world that seemed far more advanced than his years. Their conversations were surprisingly compelling and she encouraged his interest in science and space exploration. Yet at his core he was a little boy. He amused her when he held onto her hand and pretended he was Tarzan swinging on a vine when they walked home.

  After school, she made him peanut butter sandwiches (no crusts) and poured him soymilk for his afternoon snack while she listened to a rundown of his daily adventures.

  “Do you eat?” Andy asked one day as he munched on the corner of his sandwich.

  “I have no need to,” Henrietta answered as she wiped the counter.

  “The new ones do,” he said.

  “Yes, but they are synthetic humans and are designed to function as a human.”

  Andy pondered this. “I don’t get it.”

  “Their creator, Simu-Core, believes that robots must resemble their creator and emulate them in order to fully integrate into society and become more than just,” she hesitated then quoted the marketing slogan, “walking and talking appliances.”

  Andy c
hewed slowly, then sipped some milk. “So he’s saying you’re not as real as the new ones?”

  “Yes. That is why we older models must take the Liberation test. To show we have evolved to the point of being able to interact in society in a productive manner under our own recognizance.”

  “And if you don’t take the test?”

  Henrietta hesitated in her cleaning. “The human government has determined a threshold for true awareness in my kind. If we do not meet those criteria, then we are considered merely machines. If we become obsolete, we are deleted.”

  Andy frowned. “I don’t think I like that.”

  “Well, neither do I. Humans who understood our plight lobbied for the Liberation Test for older robots and the first test will be in two months.” She turned to gaze out the window toward the lights of the Inner City hovering high above the ground in the distance. She longed to return, but was uncertain if she would ever be able to even if she passed the test.

  “Are you going to take it?”

  “Someday,” she answered, and gave him her quirky, stilted smile.

  “Will the new robots take it?”

  “They have been given a contract of service that eventually liberates them if they so choose.”

  A new golden age of technology was being heralded, and to Henrietta and her kind, it just meant their time was nearly at an end. If not for the lobby of humans on the behalf of the first generation of “thinking” robots, Henrietta would not have a chance to escape the scrap heap.

  “When you take the test, will you still be my nanny bot?” A little frown formed between the boy’s brows.

  “If your mother wants to hire me directly. I will no longer be considered property, therefore, I will no longer be a rental robot, but an actual working nanny.”

  Andy took another bite. “I bet she will.” He nodded to himself. “You make things better here.”

  ***

  The sprawl of carefully arranged products under flashy holographic ads drew the attention of shoppers as Henrietta led Andy by the hand through the grocery store. The din of people speaking mixed with the soft melodic music drifting through the lightly scented air. Located on the outskirts the Outlands and the Perimeter, it was the closest many of the poorer Outlanders every got to witnessing the flashy, beautiful marketing of the Inner City floating just beyond the massive gates most would never pass through.

 

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