Lovecraftian Fragments
Textual fragments... Creatures... Places...
That night, Randolph D. Whately dreamed of Cylardar, Phylactery of Three Revulsions and its populace. It destroyed Nylar. We lived that day, but I still cannot sleep. I hear the shoggoth's tuneless piping when I try.
That night, I fitfully dreamed of The Stinking Temple to Ul-Ol, the Shredder of Hearts and its dwellers.
Ol Ol gur! Ia Thala! wgahtharturtho!
That night, he dreamed of The Forbidden Temple to Kad-guththar, the Bringer of a Thousand Pleasures and the things that thrived in that hostile environment. It destroyed my soul for a long time. Salem! Nameless, accursed place of secrets man was not meant to know!
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Cheers,
Joe Provo