The Phone Call of Cthulhu
By Christos Callow Jr.
She woke up only to realize she had brought the monster of the dream with her. The terrible noise it made could be heard from outside the door of her little room. An eye, big as a closet and wide-opened as the gates of hell, was staring at her from the window. She said to herself she was still in the dream, though she knew she wasn’t.
She almost peed herself while screaming, when a loud knock was heard on the door, as the monster’s tentacle-hands fell hard on the wood. They didn’t break it though. They merely made more noise, to upset the poor woman even more. It was a mystery impossible to explain, how that multi-dimensional demon could be outside the window and outside the door at the same time, but that was just how Cthulhu was.
Finally, the phone rang. In these hours of terror and despair, and while being threatened by the most evil being in the universe, having nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for the end, the damned phone was ringing, with that tune she loved and hated at the same time, her ex-husband’s favorite song, a call demanding to be answered.
It was him.
“Come on, honey” said Cthulhu in his deep otherworldly and yet charming voice from the other end of the phone. “Let me in, I just want to talk! Please! Can’t you just give me a second chance?”
“Never!” she said. “I told you, it’s over between the two of us! Tomorrow we will sign the divorce papers, first thing in the morning. You should have thought it better before cheating on me. Now it’s over, I never want to see you again!”
The eye outside the window shed a tear. The tear covered the glass.
“Fine” he said. “At least, can I talk to the kids?”
- - -
Christos Callow Jr. has a BA in Acting, an MA in Playwriting and is currently studying for a PhD in Creative Writing at the University of Lincoln, researching Utopian and Dystopian literature.
By Christos Callow Jr.
She woke up only to realize she had brought the monster of the dream with her. The terrible noise it made could be heard from outside the door of her little room. An eye, big as a closet and wide-opened as the gates of hell, was staring at her from the window. She said to herself she was still in the dream, though she knew she wasn’t.
She almost peed herself while screaming, when a loud knock was heard on the door, as the monster’s tentacle-hands fell hard on the wood. They didn’t break it though. They merely made more noise, to upset the poor woman even more. It was a mystery impossible to explain, how that multi-dimensional demon could be outside the window and outside the door at the same time, but that was just how Cthulhu was.
Finally, the phone rang. In these hours of terror and despair, and while being threatened by the most evil being in the universe, having nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for the end, the damned phone was ringing, with that tune she loved and hated at the same time, her ex-husband’s favorite song, a call demanding to be answered.
It was him.
“Come on, honey” said Cthulhu in his deep otherworldly and yet charming voice from the other end of the phone. “Let me in, I just want to talk! Please! Can’t you just give me a second chance?”
“Never!” she said. “I told you, it’s over between the two of us! Tomorrow we will sign the divorce papers, first thing in the morning. You should have thought it better before cheating on me. Now it’s over, I never want to see you again!”
The eye outside the window shed a tear. The tear covered the glass.
“Fine” he said. “At least, can I talk to the kids?”
- - -
Christos Callow Jr. has a BA in Acting, an MA in Playwriting and is currently studying for a PhD in Creative Writing at the University of Lincoln, researching Utopian and Dystopian literature.
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