Beings of Unfathomable Potential

Cthulhu's off season conquest of the peninsula of Cape Cod was going swimmingly. Aquarian technology and armaments were far more advanced than humans’, and Cthulhu’s forces had suffered no losses. The reports from the Deep One Defectors stationed across the peninsula were the same: they were kept busier protecting humans from the impact of other humans' stupidity rather than dealing with resistance. A few human resistors had taken out each other in Chatham due to irresponsible cannon usage.

Cthulhu’s base of operations above the water was a lovely suite of a bed and breakfast in Provincetown that served as his base of operations. The humans who managed the business had been kind enough to find him a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Admittedly even their largest size had compelled him to shrink into something closer to human scale. Now his green, muscularly dense, amphibious form was about five feet across and seven feet tall.

That afternoon, the High Priest of The Great Old Ones had just finished enjoying a “jet bathtub” the humans had invented. In honor of the human remembrance “Veteran’s Day” he had learned of, Cthulhu’s Deep One Defectors had strict instructions not to start any conflict with the human residents. Thomas, his human advisor, had told him the day was Veteran’s day.

Cthulhu slid into his slippers and pulled on his robe with a happy trill, though his serene mood would not last long.

“THUNK.”

Cthulhu would have sworn it was the sound of something heavy pounding into wood. His thoughts went to the wooden staircase that led from the deck to the ground level. 

‘It’s inconceivable to think someone has gotten to the deck. They would have had to bypass multiple psionic deterrents meant to repel unexpected guests.’

“THUNK.” 

Nothing that could be making that sound boded well. Had Cthulhu’s brother finally realized where all the Deep One Defectors were and who they now served? Cthulhu shut his pitch black eyes to feel for his psionic wards. All nine were still engaged - but something had passed through six of them, and was making short work of the seventh. 

His eyes shot open to watch a human woman reach the top of the stairs beside the deck. She hoisted a cane with a great deal of effort that had already bent under her weight and THUNKed forward into the seventh psionic deterrent zone. All the blood had left her face, her legs were shaking with the effort of staying upright, and then the color left her lips. Cthulhu dispelled all nine wards, tossed open the door, and rushed outside to catch the woman. She was already unconscious when he cradled her form.

“Thomas! Chia!” 

Cthulhu’s voice thundered as he carried the unconscious woman to the second bed in his suite, separated by a loft. He had no idea why this human woman was so special, but he was not inclined to underestimate a being of unfathomable.

Thomas, Cthulhu’s first human commando, arrived first. He was a Hispanic man in his sixties who favored sandals, Aloha shirts, cargo shorts. When Thomas scrambled up the stairs to the sundeck two at a time, his eyes were wide with shock and terror.

“Where did she come from, Thomas?” Cthulhu pinched what humans would have considered the bridge of his nose, “Why did you bring her here?”

Thomas had developed the habit of bringing interesting people to meet Cthulhu. A handful had become allies. Most he hosted for refreshments and inquired why they weren’t horrified by his very existence.

Since he’d started hosting guests, Cthulhu had begun to hate the word “rent”, as that was their number one source of terror. The concept of charging for shelter was maddening enough he understood now why his psychic influence had waned. The majority of “mankind” or “humanity” lived in a state of near constant terror trying to survive.

“The Gulls told me about her,” Thomas explained, as Cthulhu had granted him command of every sea gull on Cape Cod, “She stopped to rest by Pilgrim Lake, and some assholes with ill intent found her.”

‘Ill intent’ was the term Thomas used when it was a human wickedness he was either too embarrassed or enraged to explain. Cthulhu took a guess, given the human woman he’d brought upstairs could be mistaken for an ‘easy target’.

“They intended to assault her.”

Thomas’s expression became grim for a moment, and he nodded to confirm.

“Fortunately, even the most determined predator is deterred by my Avian Legion. Had my pretties chase them off. I checked in on her after and asked if she wanted a ride.”

The man knelt suddenly and collected the metal cane the woman had dropped. It was bent severely, as though over 200 pounds of weight was leaning its entire gravity upon it while the user experienced a sense of increased gravity. 

‘Well,’ Cthulhu pondered as Thomas tried and failed to bend it back into shape, ‘I suppose that is essentially what happened.’

“-What the hell are the later psychic deterrents?” Thomas gaped as he looked up at Cthulhu.

“Our High Priest’s psionic defenses are meant to deter much more dangerous things than humans,” Chia had finally arrived and ascended the stairs behind Thomas, “Dawn is special.”

Chia was the first Deep One to abandon Dagon’s Imperium and defect to serve his brother, Cthulhu. Thus, Chia was Cthulhu’s most trusted advisor among the Defectors. Like most of the Deep Ones, Chia stood on two legs and had two arms. Their complexion was a faintly green gray that shone like jade when wet. In lieu of hair atop Chia’s head was a dense patch of sea grass that sprang up.

“Dawn?” Cthulhu repeated and canted his head in the other direction.

“That is the wise woman’s name,” Chia declared, “Thomas, move, please. You’re in the way.”

It was hard to say who was more startled: Thomas or Cthulhu. Though Chia hadn’t done anything wrong, she was generally not that assertive if there wasn’t a crisis in play. Thomas nodded and stepped aside to let the original Deserter of Dagon through.

“Uh-do you know Dawn?” Thomas called as Chia passed him, though he turned his eyes to Cthulhu. Cthulhu had realized the deep one wasn’t empty handed - but instead carried fine mesh tote bags.

“-What, and why?” He lifted a teal green arm to gesture to Chia’s cargo.

“Dawn doesn’t like raw fish. She told me so. She’s also the one who told me about fried fish and chips!”

And like that, Chia’s fondness for Dawn made perfect sense. On the first of November, Chia had been among those sent to empty the final ferry that returned to Hyannis from Nantucket. When Chia had returned, they had their new name and excitedly talked about fried fish and chips with the other Deep Ones. The dish had fast become a favorite above water treat in their ranks. The last time they’d gone that nuts for a human food had been when they learned of shrimp tempura.

“Hey you,” A weak fourth voice joined the conversation, “Chia, my homegirl! How’s the Cape been treating you?”

Cthulhu whirled to see Dawn was awake, though she didn’t look well standing at the top of the loft stairs. In fact, she looked nauseous as she gazed down the slope and proceeded to fall forward. Chia abandoned the bags to leap forward and catch Dawn.

“Did this one not already tell you to pace yourself?” Chia chided as she sat Dawn on the bottom step.

“I did,” Dawn stuck out her tongue, “I wanted to drive here. It just didn’t work.”

“-You were trying to drive here?” 

Cthulhu blinked several times as he spoke. Had he been this woman’s intended destination? Dawn’s position behind the divider on the stairs kept him out of her field of vision, and a very pale hand reached over it in an exasperated gesture.

“I have many talents. Walking is a weakness. That was not plan A. Plan A was drive from Dennis Port to Provincetown. Plan A was abandoned with what was left of my car in Chatham thanks to-” Dawn took a moment to breathe, “Chucklefucks with cannons.”

“Oh Tentacle Daddy, I knew they’d do more harms to other humans than the perceived threat,” Thomas groaned and Cthulhu winced.

“You know I hate that term, Thomas.”

“Right, right, sorry, you’re on a short list of people who don’t like it.”

“I swear I saw a bunch of banners with that term,” Dawn mused, “When Thomas was driving me in his golf cart. ‘I stand with Tentacle Daddy’, hanging from walls, windows, and more.”

“Cthulhu initially surfaced during Pride,” Thomas explained, “And you know P-Town.”

“Ah, that makes perfect sense,” Dawn agreed, though the Eldritch beings still didn’t understand, “So yeah. I paced myself, Chia. It’s about a 16 hour walk from where I lost my car and here. I spaced out the trek. Days later, I arrive, cross the garden gate, and my body decides it’s time to pitch a fit.”

Cthulhu double took at Dawn’s manner, and it was that moment he realized she hadn’t seen him yet.

“You came here to talk to Cthulhu?”

“Seemed the thing to do,” Dawn answered with another exhausted gesture, “My job doesn’t exist anymore. I’d be more upset about that if the New World Order hadn’t literally moved my Mom, my emotional support chinchilla, and I into a hotel next door for no cost.”

“The house Dawn, her mother, and rodent companion lived in was unsuitable for life,” Chia hissed, “Black mold in the walls. Roots growing through the plumbing. Holes that let in the cold. And the woman renting them rooms -”

“Easy Chia,” Dawn let out of a soft laugh, and the sound seemed absurd to Cthulhu, “You already got Isabella. For those of you less familiar with my story than Chia is, Isabella was this little old lady who had converted her house into an illegal boarding house. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t enjoy watching her get turned to goo.”

“-you turned this Isabella to goo?” Cthulhu glowered at Chia.

Chia shrugged off the statement.

“It was November 1st. The old woman brandished a large blade at me. I didn’t know it was a kitchen knife. We didn’t yet realize how far advanced our technology and weapons were in comparison. I responded to a perceived threat.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Dawn laughed from behind the divider, “When Tentacle Daddy heads to like the Texas region, I know a guy who has been dying to overthrow our government since high school. Offer him some of your weapons and he’ll be loyal until such time Cthulhu fucks us over as much as the old guys did.”

Dawn continued to converse with Thomas and Chia while Cthulhu lined up the new information he had. On November 1st, Dawn had returned from Nantucket on the Hyannis ferry. As she had been from one of the buildings he and his Deep One Defectors had found unsuitable to sustain life, and she’d mentioned her job didn’t exist anymore, she had been employed on the ship, not a passenger. Despite the fact, evidenced by her bent cane and own statements, that walking was not Dawn’s strength, she had marched down the length of Route 6. As Chia had been expecting her - Cthulhu made a mental note to ask how long they knew he’d have company coming - meeting the High Priest of The Great Old Ones was clearly her goal.

What he couldn’t comprehend was why. He’d expected her to be some naive, innocent fool who’d come to plead that he not take over the world or wipe out mankind. Of course, extinction of the homosapiens had never been a goal.

“Thomas played a mean prank at your expense, I’m afraid,” Cthulhu leaned against the divider and dared to peer over the top. Dawn was laid back on the stairs with her eyes closed, hair in a curtain behind her head, and her arms folded over her chest, “You see, there are nine levels of psionic deterrent between the garden gate and the deck door.”

“-Really?” Dawn finally opened her eyes, “I didn’t notice-”

Then she stopped as she realized Cthulhu was standing there in a bathrobe observing her.

“You’re Cthulhu.”

Had Cthulhu not been baffled by Dawn’s seeming dismissal, he might have responded in rage.

“You didn’t notice?” He exclaimed, “You didn’t notice the increasing sense of urinary urgency, the sense you might soil yourself, the nausea, the sense that you’d left the stove on turned up to a 100, impossible heaviness in your limbs, cold burning pain like pins and needles starting at your fingers and toes, that spread abruptly further down your limbs?”

By the time he’d finished thundering, Cthulhu knew he’d missed something. Chia was vibrating and his unexpected guest looked embarrassed.

“-That was you?” Dawn finally spoke softly, “I uh. I’ve been pushing myself since the fifth of November. I’ve been walking two to four hours a day to get here. My body really hates me when I do things like that. I just assumed it was business as usual.”

Cthulhu’s rage evaporated as the weight of her words sank in.

“And the thought you might pee, poo, or puke?”

“Honestly didn’t notice the first two. Nausea happens when you overdo it.”

“The impending sense that if you didn’t return home immediately you’d be doomed?”

“I’ve been off my anxiety meds since the fifth. Also thought that was business as usual.”

Dawn reached out for her cane and never finished her question. The cane had been straight once. Now it was bent at an obtuse angle.

“I’ll replace that,” Cthulhu said quickly, “What brought you to seek an audience with me?”

“Huh? Oh, right,” Dawn sat up with another sheepish expression and turned to face him.

“You seem quite the noble soul,” Cthulhu mused as his guest settled, “Would you like some refreshments?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, that would be nice,” Dawn agreed as Chia helped her stand.

Dawn and Cthulhu soon sat across from each other, with the snacks and beverages Chia brought set between them.

“Chia tells me your name is Dawn.”

“-They’re giving people the name Chia?” Dawn’s face softened, “I was embarrassed I could come up with anything better. I think I may have been the first person who met them and didn’t freak out. They were the first stranger to care if I hit the ground when I fell. Friends forever.”

Cthulhu blinked as he added a new data point to his understanding of the situation. Dawn had given Chia their surface name. Chia had accepted it. Most Deep Ones had a level of telepathy, and Chia was no exception. Dawn had made quite the positive impression on them.

“I originally imagined,” Cthulhu admitted, “You came to plead for the fate of humanity. Given you’re already in a better position than before I arrived, that seems unlikely.”

“Fuck no. Most of humanity is prepared to let me die in a ditch,” Dawn rolled her eyes, “I’m here to plead for my friends and family.”

Reader, the only term to describe the noise that escaped Cthulhu is this: confused eldritch noises. Dawn blinked several times and looked up at him as she tried to identify the closest animal sound, gave up, and went back to her cheddar crackers.

“You marched down Route 6,” Cthulhu began, “Having learned my forces had occupied Cape Cod, risked bodily harm, and intentionally brought on a personal debit of pain, all for the fates of a few dozen people?”

“Pretty much,” Dawn confirmed, “I’ve got a slideshow on my phone, about why they’re decent people and deserve a chance-”

“Granted.”

Dawn stopped, and it was her turn to gape at Cthulhu.

“Granted?”

“Obviously not that much of the Earth is under my control yet, but as my domain expands to contain your loved ones, I’ll see that each of them is housed, fed, and kept healthy.”

“That’s a better deal than I hoped for,” Dawn admitted, “I half expected to get squished when I got here.”

“You almost were.”

“Heh, true,” A smile began to cross the woman’s face, and Cthulhu understood why her parents selected her name, “Is it alright if I take a few hours to rest before I head back?”

“Stay as long as you like, Dawn. We creatures of unfathomable potential should stick together, after all,” Cthulhu found an expression akin to a smile crossing his face, “You know, Thomas only brings people whom he thinks might be helpful to the cause to meet me. You mentioned your old employment no longer exists. Could I tempt you with a new occupation?”

“Depends on the job, but I’m listening.”

Within a few months, dozens of coastal communities whose populations had dwindled after tourist season ended would fall under Cthulhu’s control. Most, if not all, celebrated their New World Order as it represented a dramatic improvement in their quality of life. The homeless were housed, the sick received medical attention, and the hungry were fed. Due to their amphibious nature and preferring to live in deep waters, Cthulhu and those Deep Ones who no longer served Dagon considered preserving the planet a priority.

The largest surprise to humanity was when Cthulhu presented a veiled human companion to help him understand humanity better and mediate with the homosapien peoples. Those who support the New World Order consider Radiana, Lady of the Dark Light, a beacon of hope. Those opposed to Cthulhu’s control would consider her a traitor to her own kind. Both Cthulhu and Radiana declined to answer questions about their relationship status.