Eliza In The Flesh!: the call of godspawn. I

Raventown was no stranger to anomalies. In fact, Eliza was pretty sure they welcomed it, spawned it, and housed some sort of anomaly club meet every so often. But for them to call something strange, that was a red flag if she had ever seen one. Not just a flag, an entire banner flooding the streets for miles around.

 

Raventown had found itself at the foot of something stirring. An ancient mansion, similar to that of a godly giant, sighing as it takes a few slow steps on the face of the earth, shaking it to its core. Except it wasn’t a warm kind of giant. It was a sickening kind. The kind that would hideout in a cave, only going out to eat and hunt. The resources were so little, it had to take more to satisfy itself. More, much more. Like it needed to tower over prey, asserting a slim chance of escape but only to give the illusion of a choice. That, in the end, it would grab you by the leg, dangle you and your fragile life between its teeth, and in the blink of an eye, you’d disappear. Despite all of your experiences, it never amounts to anything in the eyes of the hunter, especially gods. In the end, it’s not nearly enough to satisfy them, and they always end up wanting more.

 

She swallowed— her throat hoarse, hair slightly cracking and splitting, head throbbing— suddenly grasping with the dense forestry, blocking all means of communication. It would only be a week of stay, then, they’ll never have to look at it again. For now, rumors began circling like wildfire of ghosts living in the house. A pale, little ghost girl with the power to move things to her will. A supposed psychic, according to the innkeeper.

 

“A witch,” Eliza overheard her say with one of her friends. “You reckon they know each other?” This was an obvious reference to the duchess herself. No, she did not fraternize with lowly beings. Unless she needed to. Then she might.

 

On an unrelated note, she was heading to the library to do some thorough research on eldritch abominations living in creepy houses. Well, she was trying to. She hadn’t bothered to memorize the layout before, why would she know it now? The place had nothing much to offer her besides a “bed” to sleep on.

 

After wandering aimlessly for a grand total of three hours, she found a kempt building with a sign hanging from it that simply read, “Library.” She supposed the caretaker was very devoted seeing as the place looked better than anything Raventown could muster. The wandering had cost her an unusual amount of energy, every step seemed to seep something from her limbs.

 

The building looked almost like a greenhouse. The entrance consisted of gray stone bricks, glass walls with white framing to the right, revealing the lines of dark wood bookshelves with rows of books with different covers. Some books with gold lining were illuminated by the rays of sun, giving the impression of warmth and shine. To the left was a cylinder tower leading to the top with what looked to be an observatory. The wooden roof was painted an evergreen, vines covering it just enough for it to look less chaotic and more natural and serene.

 

It was mostly empty. Most residents in Raventown didn’t know how to read, which meant Eliza was free to keep it to herself, if it weren’t for the librarian looming over her shoulder. She wondered if she had ever thought of going outside, seeking another job, or even taking one of the many seemingly untouched books from the shelf and reading it. 

 

“The Spawn of Cthulhu.” The single book in a dark, dusty section that led her to the mysterious house feared by crows, vultures, and snakes alike. A book that felt misplaced in the shelfings. “They say—somewhere in the woods built on clay and madness— the enticing call of exceeding the ever continuous cosmic cycle of life and death burrows itself in an olden house. The luscious taste of going beyond whatever the universe promises likes to hide in the particular souls of those willing to bend against the world.”

 

She flipped through the pages, looking for the important part. The reason she was at the footsteps of their entrance, hand hovering over the doorbell. “These Godspawn like to anchor into any source they can find, clawing their hands into power not in their clutches until they leave their victim an empty shell. This inevitability of this husk is almost like doom, that no matter where you run, where you hide, you cannot win against the conqueror of death itself.”

 

She swallowed harshly, sweat trickling down her forehead, and her bones gravitating to the floor. “You’ve taken from me,” she said to the girl in ragged, homespun clothing. “I want it back.” The girl grinned with a crooked, toothy smile. Eliza instinctively wanted to enter, to willingly step into the ghastly promises of doom, but she knew better than to enter without an invite. “Come then, Duchess,” she offered, gesturing for her to enter. “Let us make an exchange.”