PTHULTU OKAG’N P’NATH

The last words she hears as the wheels turn, twisting and grinding her mangled bones against one another. The water rising, threatening to end the ritual before it can complete. With a sickening series of pops, her spinal cord finally rips apart.

“…no no no NO NO!..” Followed by a deep, sad sigh.

She hears a voice, but not the voices of her brothers and sisters chanting… it seems sad. She then remembers that she absolutely should be dead, and with a chilling realization understands what is happening.

“My lord?” She asks. “Your children need you, I have come to you to seek forgiveness, why have you forsaken us!?” Her voice turning into an almost pitiful wail.

“Say my name.” The voice commands. His voice seems faint, almost far away.

“Wh-… what?” She expected anger, or at least a reason for why He had stopped blessing her and her family.

“Say. My. Name.” The voice commands again, more forcefully. Closer.

“P’nath?” She asks, confused. Why would He need her to say His name, surely He must have heard the chant. Why else would she be in His presence?

“P’nath? Are you sure it isn’t B’nath?” The voice asks. The air of sadness in His voice mingling with a burgeoning frustration.

“B… B’nath? I’m sorry, my Lord, I don’t understand.” She began to wonder. Am I wrong? No, surely His name is P’nath-

“Surely! Surely my name is P’nath. Do you even understand what’s happened to you, child?” His voice now full, deep and omnipresent, amplified by his frustration. “Are you even aware of what it is I do?”

“You are P’nath, you are the greatest of the dreaming Speakers. You are our great Father, we your blessed children.” She said. Her form was roughly human shaped, being only a soul, but she still tried her best to prostrate herself before her God. “It is not for us to question what you do.” It was the best she had, she didn’t actually know what her God was capable of.

“P’nath, B’nath, B’nat, P’nat, Bulgath, Pulgath…” He began listing words, words she could only assume were names. As he began offloading more and more she realized that they all sounded… similar. “Pigrath, Pugrath, Bulgrath, Phnath, Binath…” As he spoke, his voice sounded less and less frustrated and more… tired?

“Please P’nath, I do not understand! What are you trying to tell me!?!?” She screamed into the void.

“Child… nameless child… I am not your Father. You can’t even say my name.” He says, with a melancholy that only comes from fathomless depths of isolation.

His voice, alongside His message, leaves her feeling hollow and cold.

“What?.. But I… I died for them… will you not help us?” She cries, remembering her bones slowly being twisted and broken. She never uttered a single noise, as her anguished moans would have been distasteful to Him. But she endured, with the hopes that her sacrifice would stop the rising waters, that he would save her people. But if what he’s saying is true? She thought, terrified.

“Exactly, my child.” He speaks directly into her mind. “You have suffered an agony I would not wish upon my most hated foe. Broken, mangled, and suffering all in silence. Untold anguish, bound by a will of steel. Gaze upon the effect your unbroken will has had on your soul.” He said, showing her herself through His eyes.

Her soul… it seemed wrong. She had the shape of a human but… broken, twisted and malformed. What have I done?? She thought in abject horror. The pain returned in full, as if she were still alive. Eternally breaking and broken.

“I spoke to one of you… once, a long time ago. I tried to share of myself, give you my name, share with you my gifts. The man used my gifts to elevate himself, make himself seem more God than man.”

He explained, images of the man shifting and expanding in her mind. She didn’t really know what to make of what He was telling her.

“He could not understand. I did not speak to him out of benevolence. I did it out of desperation.” The images shifted once again, of a small black shape trapped in an infinite endless void. She could not say why she could determine that there was a shape, for there was no light. She just could. The pain now felt quiet next to the anguish her God suffered.

“Why are you telling me this?” She asked. “Why would you not tell the others of this? Why have you forsaken us!!!???” She screamed, the pain, the cold, the dark all crashing against her in a wave like she was being swept out to sea.

He sighs, deeply. “Child I tried. Your people did not listen. You named me the greatest ‘Speaker’, and when I spoke you did not accept my wisdom. You saw the blessings of the past and ignored the wisdom of the future. Your people cannot stop the waters, I cannot stop them.”

“For I am not the greatest of the ‘Speakers’, as you call them.”

Stunned into silence, the both of them shared the same feeling: sorrow. There was nothing that either of them could do. At least they weren’t alone.

-!-

Hey I kinda lost track of this one. I started on the idea that most people aren’t aware of the fact that Cthulu has like a kajillion different pronunciations and spellings. That and the fact that his real name can’t be pronounced by flappy human flesh bits. Then I decided it didn’t have enough teeth, and we ended here. I’m not fleshing this out any further, but it was a fun prompt! :) thank you OP.

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