I took close care of David for a week – bringing him broth and liquids to bring him back. I was only the last night we spent in front of the fire that I learned all.
“Michael, I didn’t kill the nurse in the asylum,” he said. “ It was Cthulhu – I escaped into the being before anything could be done.”
“How? How did you manage to get the book in my hands?”
“I escaped long enough to give him the manuscript. I told him only one copy was needed. I paid him well – in the ensuing days, I didn’t know what would happen.”
“What happened?” I trembled as I spoke. I dropped my drink onto the carpet. “What is happening to me?” I implored David.
“I am not sure, but it’s my turn to take care of you. Off we go.”
David, under his guiding hand, his insufferable charm, cared for me for several weeks as the wound on my arm grew more pronounced. The doctors who visited had no clue, and just what were we supposed to tell them? I am growing dim now, so I cannot complete this narrative. It is up to one person…
10
David Rhodes
Michael has now taken a turn for the worse – his skin turned a beige-green, and he responded to no food or water.
Yet, he still spoke.
“You must do it now, David. End it,” he crackled.
“I can’t, Michael – there must be some other solution!”
I threw the sheets away from him. The appendices were pierced through his skin in every imaginable form, writhing, almost crawling. As his head and body grew smaller, he once last time implored me. “David, it must be now. Now, I say! Hurry!”
I ran downstairs to the kitchen and chose the largest knife I could before hastening back into Michael’s bedroom. His eyes were blackening, and more were forming on his forehead.
“You must do it now!” he exclaimed.
He took his right arm and placed it on his forehead.
The appendices thrust from his body, ruffled the blankets. I raised the tool of death or mercy (whichever you want to call it), and brought it downwards….
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