“What, what the heck? So, the protagonist inherited the blood of the Deep One?”
“So, does that mean he’s going back to the depths to become a Deep One after being called by a demon?”
The play Shadow Over Innsmouth ended with a shocking twist no one saw coming!
A creepy, dilapidated fishing village and bizarre inhabitants resembling fish, along with the story of the fish demons they worship, successfully pulled the audience into a Lovecraftian horror atmosphere.
…Though, of course, the audience’s reactions were still pretty moderate.
“Certainly sends chills down my spine. But it’s not unbearable.”
“Right! It’s not that different from Vanderbeune’s usual performances, is it?”
“Wahaha! I told you, right? My courage is top-notch! No way a master of horror like Phantom can break me!”
Shadow Over Innsmouth is a short novel betting on dark currents and chilling settings.
That’s why Phantom chose it as an appetizer for the Cthulhu Mythos.
Appetizers are only meant to whet customers’ appetites before the main course.
Just getting a sense of the flow of the piece through Shadow Over Innsmouth should suffice.
Just like how one would gradually increase risk levels in an internet community’s banned terms, the level of horror to be presented to the audience was set to rise progressively.
[So, what do you think? Did you find the story of young Olmstead intertwined with Innsmouth intriguing?]
As the set changed, the young gentleman Lovecraft appeared.
[This time, I’d like to share a story about a family crumbling due to an unusual color that fell from another world. It will be scarier than Olmstead’s tale, so pay close attention everyone!]
The Vanderbeune theater company has been known for their short plays.
Although they specialize in concise yet intense shorts, they’re naturally weaker at longer forms.
That’s why Phantom aimed to transform their weakness into a strength by intertwining multiple shorts into a screenplay for the Cthulhu Mythos.
It was a collection of various shorts and novellas penned by the late Howard Phillips Lovecraft.
Essentially, it created an omnibus universe by dividing each story into individual pieces.
Shiiih-!
As per that format, mist once again began to rise, and the curtain for the next short, Color Out of Space, was raised.
One day, an unidentified meteor fell from the sky. The unknown colors it released lead the innocent farmer Nahum and his family to destruction.
And from this point, the audience’s reactions started to diverge.
[Down there… something’s moving in the color, mother!]
[It’s in the well! The color lives in the well, hehe!]
The grotesque troupe expressed the alien color in a bizarre way through proper combinations.
The portrayal of it devouring the farming family like a living creature delivered a shock on a completely different level from Shadow Over Innsmouth.
As a result, a few audience members began to drop out one by one.
“I-I’m leaving. I think returning is better.”
“Damn. I won’t get any sleep tonight. That damn color won’t leave my head.”
“How can I drink the water from our village reservoir now? Nahum’s family was ruined because they drank well water wrong.”
Beeep!
Audience members hit the emergency buttons to express their intent to surrender.
The rescue team waiting in the back approached to release safety belts and guide them out.
This was also an option added systematically by Phantom for emergencies.
“Huh? Are you giving up already?”
Some people sneered at those departing.
“What, you’re giving up at just this level? You all are a bunch of cowards!”
“W-what? Is everyone so weak-hearted? I can’t let you guys see me give up!”
“But why are you stuttering? You’re drenched in sweat!”
“Shut up!”
But they didn’t know.
Those quickly giving up at this less terrifying stage were actually the wise lucky ones.
Because from now on, a series of monsters personally selected by Phantom were about to pour forth.
And to prove that point…
Dudududung!
“Uagh! Wh-what? Why is the chair suddenly like this?!”
“Egh! S-Seawater?!”
As the goblin engineer motion chair activated, a tidal wave erupted on stage.
With saltwater and a cold wind pouring in, something massive began to rise slowly in the middle.
The audience turned pale at the sight.
“Wh-what is that?!”
“I-Is it… a fish?! No, is it a person?! It’s HUGE!”
The Great Old One Dagon, from Lovecraft’s micro-narrative Dagon.
In the dim lighting with eerie dissonance swirling around, he raised his hand and muttered strange phrases in an incomprehensible language.
Urrrgh-!!
And in the next moment, an earthquake struck, shattering the large island model set in the middle of the stage as it sank into the depths.
After literally causing a natural disaster, the demon glared at the audience with a chilling gaze.
Seeing that, the audience felt an overwhelming primal fear welling up inside them.
“Is that… a real model?! Why is it so large and lifelike?!”
“Could it be an actual monster?!”
…Of course, it wasn’t just because Dagon’s model was well-made.
Chiiiii……!
The mist had actually been emitting a fine mist from the motion chair all along.
This was none other than a slight hypnosis spell conjured by the witch Morgan. It was a potion made by materializing it into powder form and mixing it with water.
The ‘magic option’ added by Phantom during the production process was precisely this.
It was harmless to humans but slightly confused the senses, reducing the ability to perceive reality.
It was a measure to indirectly make the audience feel their ‘mental strength’ decreasing while facing the Great Old One.
…Thanks to this, audience members who didn’t exit during the Color Out of Space stage were now set to face trials of will in accordance with the unfolding of the short play.
[Teke-li-li-! Teke-li-li!!]
The Shoggoth, a creature from The Mountains of Madness, appeared chanting bizarre alien phrases.
The monster that dared to tread in ancient ruins of the forsaken North is now charging toward the audience.
“Uuuaah-!!!”
“Wh-what is that?! Why does it look like that?!”
“Ugh! I feel like I’m going to vomit!”
As the amorphous demon approached to the brink of touching them, the audience screamed in utter terror.
And that fear was amplified even further in the next piece, Fate Comes to Sarnath.
Krang! Kwang, Kwang-!!
A gigantic reptile demon, ‘Bokrug,’ appeared amidst flashing crimson lights and thunderous clouds.
The great water lizard stared at the audience with burning eyes, coming closer.
And it unleashed a monstrous sound that sounds like it could make you wet your pants.
Causing a great flood that would wipe out the grand civilization of ‘Sarnath’ in an instant.
[Y’ai ng’ngah, h’ee-l’geb f’ai throdog uaah-!!]
[Ogthrod ai’f geb’l-ee’h ngah’ng ai’y zhro –!!!]
Though the words were certainly incomprehensible, the audience following the narrative of Fate Comes to Sarnath could vaguely grasp the intentions.
Once, in the land of Sarnath, a grotesque amphibious race that thrived there followed Bokrug.
They were in the process of slaughtering them, taking their land, and pouring hatred on the human colonizers who disrespectfully betrayed their own idol.
“W-We didn’t kill them! The Sarnath people did it-!!”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I swear I won’t disturb frogs or salamanders anymore-!!”
“H-Hub! I surrender! P-Please let me out, uuh-!!”
The next entity to appear was the famous yellow-clad king, ‘Hastur.’
Summoned through the inner-theater play The Yellow King, he waved his tentacles and roamed the stage.
And amidst the disorderly flashing lights of yellow, red, and blue…
[Wz-y’eil! Wz-y’eil! Y’kaa haa bho—ii!]
[Wz-y’eil! Wz-y’eil! Y’kaa haa bho—ii!]
Alien beings, ‘Mi-go,’ who worship Hastur, danced while exchanging songs that would drive anyone insane telepathically.
“O King in the yellow robe! Ruler from another realm…! Bow to the king of demons…!!”
“Heehee, yellow, yellow! My soul is yellow! The entire world is yellow!”
“What’s that supposed to mean, pinkie?”
Ritualistic worship of Hastur was portrayed like a frenzy of ancient ceremonies.
In the haze of ecstasy where reality and illusion were blurred, some simply lost themselves and began babbling nonsensically.
It was also the duty of the rescue team to take such individuals to the priests.
Amidst the series of shorts leading up to the climax of the Cthulhu Mythos, much of the audience had already thinned out.
…But there were definitely horror junkies still refusing to exit.
“This is fake, it’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake…!!”
“Oh, great gods! Protect me! Don’t let this false fear take my sanity…!!”
“I’m not scared! I’m not scared! I’m not afraid of the demons in the play! Aaaah-!!”
Sweating profusely, even nearly urinating, some stubbornly clung to their pride.
Having built a lifetime’s worth of horror resistance, they endured even when others fled or were taken away.
For the enthusiasts, courage was a symbol of accumulated accomplishments and pride.
Even if it meant dying of a heart attack, they wouldn’t let go of their obstinacy.
…However, that obstinacy would be meaningless before the highlight, Call of Cthulhu.
Guoohhhh~♪
As a terrifying yet majestic melody echoed more intensely, something was stirring in the fog of the vast sea.
“Ugh! What is it?! Wh-what’s happening this time?!”
People screamed as the audience seating shook with the violent waves.
Before their very eyes, a monstrous shadow emerged, unlike anything they’d seen before during Dagon.
And that ‘shadow’ began to emit a chilling sound, a monstrous sound born from a magical mixing of various voice actors.
[Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn!]
“Ahh! Let me out! Get me out NOW-!!”
“We’re all going to die! The demon of hell! It’s not a model, a real demon has manifested-!!”
“How can something like that exist? That’s not a product of imagination! A real demon has appeared! Help me-!!”
Even those who had withstood until the very end were left in utter chaos by the colossal puppet.
It touched the ceiling of the Vanderbeune tent and filled nearly the entirety of the theater company’s interior.
With burning eyes like torches, dozens of limbs, scaled body, and massive wings, it was none other than Cthulhu manifesting.
[Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn~ Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn~♪]
[Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn~♪]
Singers hidden backstage sang a horrendous hymn in chilling tones.
Simultaneously, the Lovecraft actor, amplified by magic, bellowed mad lines.
[On the day the stars return to their place and the alien body regains its freedom, may Cthulhu awaken from his dreams to glorious resurrection!]
Dudududung!
Cthulhu’s massive body began to lean towards the audience.
His two wings spread wide, and his scaled hand slowly approached.
Seeing the increasingly horrendous gaze, screams erupted from the audience.
“Uuugh! No more! Hurry and let me go-!!”
“G-great gods! The real demon has appeared! Please save me, aaah-!!”
“P-p-Ph’nglui…gluw-nafh…Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn, grrrr…!!”
Cthulhu, with the most frightening yet majestic form among the demons in the Cthulhu Mythos.
Before him, the audience felt a sense of powerlessness and fear akin to bugs before a typhoon.
Some instinctively began to repeat the lyrics of the Cthulhu hymn, their eyes rolling back.
Yet, the approaching giant hand of Cthulhu didn’t stop.
Just as Cthulhu’s hand was about to touch the heads of the audience.
“Uuuaah-!!!”
Suddenly, a boy’s piercing scream echoed.
Then, thud! Someone collapsed in a specially prepared seat for VIPs.
In the next moment, anxious voices echoed from the surrounding crowd.
“Stop! Stop the performance immediately!”
“Ugh! Your Highness! Snap out of it!”
“Medical team! Come here quickly!”
Dudududud…!
As chaos erupted, the Cthulhu puppet powered down.
Next, the magic lanterns of the theater gradually lit up, brightening the surroundings, and the stage manager Fluffy rushed out.
“What, what happened? Why is this happening?”
“Hurry and undo this belt! We need to treat His Highness! Quickly!”
As the lights turned on, the troubling situation was finally revealed.
The prince, Wolfgang von Clausewitz, who had come to see Vanderbeune’s horror play at the invite of playwright Phantom.
The 13-year-old horror addict, who insisted on seeing it despite his entourage wanting to leave, had fainted, frothing at the mouth and soaking his pants.
—
“Well, thank goodness. There are no significant health issues.”
The physician diagnosed after examining Prince Wolfgang’s condition.
As he checked the patient’s pulse and prepared to leave, he said,
“He just lost consciousness, so he should wake up soon with some rest. There’s nothing more for me to do, so I will take my leave.”
After fainting, Wolfgang was promptly taken to the royal palace for emergency treatment by the rescue team.
Soon, the court physician rushed in to conduct a thorough examination of his condition.
“Well done, physician.”
Bernhard, the prince’s aide, sighed in relief, crossing himself.
And I, the cause of all this chaos, Phantom, was standing sheepishly beside the bed.
“It’s alright, Phantom. You won’t be held responsible, so there’s no need to worry.”
Bernhard, glancing at my fidgeting figure, spoke in a deep voice.
“Your Highness insisted on continuing with the Cthulhu Mythos production and insisted on attending. Emperor knows it will remain clear that this is all His Highness’ fault, so he won’t issue any punishment.”
“That’s a relief.”
I was indeed glad, but I couldn’t just shout “Oh, sweet victory!” and pretend to be unaffected. I let out a feigned sigh in regret.
‘What the heck, this kid. Why didn’t he give up sooner instead of being so stubborn?’
Wasn’t this a setup warning against scaring just a 12- or 13-year-old child?
I figured he’d hit the surrender button and bolt after barely enduring the levels of Dagon or The Mountains of Madness.
Originally, the surrender button was an option meant for him to mash like crazy.
Just when I was inwardly grumbling, feeling vexed and ashamed…
“Guh…!”
“Your Highness! Are you awake?! Your Highness!”
Prince Wolfgang began stirring, frowning.
Bernhard hastily rushed over to check on his condition.
I also stepped in, standing by the prince’s bedside.
“Ergh, ugh…!”
The prince, wrestling with his senses as if waking up, suddenly bolted upright and screamed.
“C-Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn-!!”
“W-Your Highness! Why are you shouting?”
“Hah, huff… Wh-where am I?”
“You’re in the royal palace’s private chamber! How do you feel? Are you hurt anywhere?”
The prince didn’t respond to Bernhard’s questions.
He just panted heavily, wiping the rain of sweat from his brow.
“P-P-P-Pantom? Is that you?”
After some time gathering his wits, Wolfgang’s lime-colored gaze landed on me.
Feeling like I ought to say an apology of some sort, I cleared my throat to initiate.
“Ahem, Your Highness? Are you alright? I…”
“Phantom!”
Wolfgang seized my hands tightly.
His eyes lit up, and he suddenly exclaimed.
“Please, become my brother-in-law!”
“…Huh?”
What is this out of nowhere request?
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