The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos

by McLaughlin, Mark

  The Black Pharaoh led Mnekh past the statues and through an open door. They were now in a smaller chamber with a black altar in the center. On top of this altar rested an oddly shaped box of yellow metal. The sides of the box were adorned with bas-reliefs depicting creatures even stranger than those in the previous chamber. The hinged lid of the box was open, and inside was the Eye of Yuggoth – a bizarre crystal held in the center of the box with thin metal supports.

  Mnekh stared at the many flat, glittering surfaces of the crystal, and as he did so, it seemed as though he could see many strange scenes in their depths. He saw, in rapid succession, a city of towers, around which flew dove-winged fiends with malformed heads … a blood-drenched pillar on a stony mountainside … a bloated, white monstrosity as big as an island, floating in a blood-red ocean … an infant suckling at the breast of a smiling, dog-faced thing … and more, much more….

  “That is enough,” said Nephren-Ka, pulling Mnekh away from the crystal. “There will be plenty of time in the future for you to study the many realms one might see through the crystal. You must now meet the Living Shroud.”

  So saying, he took Mnekh’s torch out of his hands. He left the room for a moment to place the torches in the larger chamber. When he returned, he closed the door behind him, plunging the room into complete darkness.

  “The Living Shroud cannot tolerate light,” Nephren-Ka said.

  “Yes, you told me so when you were Tsoth,” Mnekh said. “You also told me that He comes as a destroyer with tentacles and wings of a bat. Is that how He will come to us now? Am I to be destroyed by Him?”

  Nephren-Ka’s laughter echoed through the chamber. “He enjoyed an enormous sacrifice recently, so I do not think your death will be necessary.”

  “Then why am I here? Why is it necessary for me to meet the Living Shroud?”

  “I serve the Living Shroud because He made me an offer: all the power I desired,” Nephren-Ka said. “I want you to serve Him willingly, but I do not know what it might take to sway you. So I am hoping He will look into your mind, your soul, and make an offer to you.”

  “I do not bargain with devils,” the high priest said.

  “What a pity,” whispered a voice as soft and low as distant thunder. “I am fond of bargaining, Mnekh. I hope you will not deprive me of that pleasure.”

  “You are the Living Shroud? Nyarlathotep?” asked Mnekh. “When did Nephren-Ka summon you?”

  “When he closed the door, sealing me in darkness with living souls.” The voice had a friendly warmth to it that startled Mnekh. “You interest me. You are thinking about sunshine: is this to prevent me from peering into your mind? How very clever.”

  “I told you he was intelligent,” Nephren-Ka said. “Soon, I think, he will begin to use that intelligence on our behalf.”

  The leader of the Brotherhood of Horus took a deep breath. He then began to back up toward the door of the chamber. “I have been looking forward to meeting you, Nyarlathotep. I have a glorious surprise for you. Do you know anything about the prophecy made by my mother before I was born?”

  “I can hear you moving toward the door,” Nephren-Ka said. “Did you think I would leave it unlocked? You are trapped in this room with us.”

  “The prophecy…” whispered Nyarlathotep. “Indeed, Mnekh. I know all that Nephren-Ka knows, and he learned of it from one of your priests while he was Tsoth. Your mother Pash stated that before you die, you would cry out three times for your father Horus, God of the Sun, asking for the fire of salvation. The quaint ravings of a madwoman. What of it?”

  By this time, Mnekh had reached the far end of the room and stood with his back against the only door. “Father Horus,” he screamed, “come to me now. Father Horus, bring forth the cleansing fire of the sun. Father Horus, let me be the vessel for the salvation of my people.”

  In an instant, the high priest burst into wondrous flame. The fire spread through the room, causing a batwinged, tentacled monstrosity to squeal with unholy rage. The Living Shroud dispersed into black mist and swirled into the box of yellow metal, back to its own dimension.

  Though his flesh was charred, Nephren-Ka managed to stagger to the altar and close the door of the box. He turned toward the door of the chamber, took a single step, then stopped. He could see there was no escape for him. His empire of darkness was at an end.

  Mnekh continued to burn, sending forth cleansing flame that reduced the Black Pharaoh to a handful of ashes. Soon, even those ashes were obliterated.

  The box did not melt, for it was created to withstand the extremes of heat and cold to be found in the spaces between the stars.

  Like the Living Shroud, it was a thing of evil, and evil is as patient as it is eternal.

  And so it waited.

  About The Authors

  Mark McLaughlin’s fiction, nonfiction, and poetry have appeared in more than 1,000 magazines, newspapers, websites, and anthologies, including GALAXY, LIVING DEAD 2, THE BEST OF ALL FLESH, WRITER'S DIGEST, CEMETERY DANCE, MIDNIGHT PREMIERE, DARK ARTS, and two volumes each of THE BEST OF HORRORFIND and THE YEAR'S BEST HORROR STORIES (DAW Books).

  His latest paperback release is a collection of his darkest stories from over the years entitled HIDEOUS FACES, BEAUTIFUL SKULLS. Other collections of his fiction include BEST LITTLE WITCH-HOUSE IN ARKHAM, BEACH BLANKET ZOMBIE, MOTIVATIONAL SHRIEKER, SLIME AFTER SLIME, PICKMAN'S MOTEL, and AT THE FOOTHILLS OF FRENZY (with co-authors Shane Ryan Staley and Brian Knight). He also wrote the novel MONSTER BEHIND THE WHEEL with collaborator Michael McCarty. He once won the Bram Stoker Award for Excellence in Poetry, along with co-authors Rain Graves and David Niall Wilson, for THE GOSSAMER EYE.

  Michael Sheehan, Jr. works for a local school system and loves horror and science-fiction movies. Michael and Mark co-authored the chapbook, CASINO CARCOSA, and they have collaborative stories forthcoming in the SUMMER OF LOVECRAFT anthology, as well as THE GRUESOME TENSOME, an anthology that pays homage to horror director H.G. Lewis.

  The Abominations Of Nephren-Ka & Three More Tales Of The Cthulhu Mythos ©2015 Mark McLaughlin & Michael Sheehan, Jr.