Mysterious Package Company

The Crate of Cthulhu

We have often acquired items of disturbing nature. But never before have we come across an object so abjectly horrifying in its implications.

Our contact‘s hands shook as he handed us this box. At first we thought him paranoid, fearing phantom assassins. But after opening that damned crate ourselves we realized the agents of the cult were all too real. Real, yes, but also the least of his fears.

Surely our members are familiar with the pulp contrivances of Mr. Lovecraft, whose feverish imaginings pass in and out of vogue. How terrible to realize his overwrought fictions are only sensational corruptions of the truth! How and where he laid his hands on the manuscript in this crate I do not know — but surely that knowledge haunted him to his dying day, as it will us. And perhaps you.

The typewritten document could be dismissed as the ramblings of a madman. The newspaper articles as coincidence. Even the bas-relief of the lunatic artist confirms little by itself... but the statue! The statue! The famous icon of Lovecraft's tale here revealed to the gaze and touch in all its scabrous, otherworldly malice. What hand made it? What vision inspired it? And what madness in the deep slumbers still, but must one day wake?

It is an altogether remarkable find. Yet even now I question the wisdom of unleashing the information contained therein onto the wider world. For after such knowledge, what forgiveness?