Cthulhu Lives!: An Eldritch Tribute to H. P. Lovecraft [S.S. Col.] by Various (Jones Salomé - Ed.)

Author:Various (Jones, Salomé - Ed.) [Various (Jones, Salomé - Ed.)]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Anthologies (various), Cthulhu, Fantasy, Fiction, Horror, Lovecraft, Short Stories
Publisher: Ghostwoods Books
Published: 2014-08-18T23:00:00+00:00

I didn’t want to spend any more time in the guest house just yet. Once I’d gotten the car back next to it, I left my suitcase in the trunk after hauling my coat out. When I pulled it on, I realized it was the first warm, dry thing I’d felt since I arrived.

As the sun rose higher, I strolled along the edge of the cliff, looking for a way down. There was a path, though it looked a bit treacherous. Old plastic ‘danger’ signs were dotted along it, but someone had rigged up a rope you could hold onto as you went up or down. So, palms burning from clinging to the rope, I stumbled my way down to the beach.

I jumped down the last couple of steps onto the sand, and wrinkled my nose. There was a lot of weed washed up. The tide mark was sticky with decomposing sea life, oil, tar and plastic, too. The mess was hopping with sand fleas. I trudged past it down towards the waterline.

The sand was rough, and unpredictable underfoot, making me stumble and sway. In some ways it was more like mud than sand, and it wasn’t any color I’d been expecting. Where do you even get grey sand? Here and there, dotted along the beach, were pebbles. Some of them looked a little odd, bright red shining up from the muck. I bent down low and picked a piece up. It was rough like pumice and light in my hand. I tossed it up and down, catching it out of the air as I finally realised what it was – red brick, washed down to a smooth surface like the rest of the pebbles. Perhaps part of the lost village that was just out there, beneath the waves.

The whole beach was dotted with these little red reminders, artifacts of the town that had sunk. Now I’d seen one, I spotted more and more, chunks of bright red standing out against the dull, grey sand. I wandered slowly down the beach, following the bands of the tide line, stopping every now and then to crouch and pick up one of the rounded pebbles. Brick wasn’t the only thing to have been worn smooth. Pieces of glass, worn opaque, were dotted across the grey. Green glass, blue glass, clear glass. Had they been bottles? Windows? Something else?

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