OJTTEG-Chapter 37: Short Story - The God’s Twisted Humor (Part Two)

But I fail. His face is like the strange visions you see after punching yourself in the eye—commonly known as seeing stars. The more you try to focus, the blurrier it becomes.

"I won't be in any real danger, right??"

I attempt to pull off a smile that looks nothing like one, as unsettling thoughts begin to creep in.

"..."

"No way!"

The god seems to show a sense of triumph.

"If I have to say, the world line you're about to enter is considered... the world of the Cthulhu Mythos—at least, that's what your world calls it."

"Oh~ the world of Cthulhu Mythos." I nod with a smile, which quickly freezes.

"Hmm?"

"Hmm." He nods.

"What do you mean, hmm!"

"Wait, are you serious? When you mentioned adorable and unique creatures, you didn't mean those mysterious beings, did you?"

"Indeed. By the way, I haven't introduced myself yet." The god loosens his tie, and his form grows larger, with tentacles waving about like kelp floating in water...

The rest is hard to see. Every time I try to focus, my eyes sting. But the image, like a malevolent spirit, is etched deeply into my mind. It's like having an octopus wrapped around your head—suffocating, oppressive, and utterly chaotic. It feels like being underwater. It's indescribable.

"In your language, there's something called Nyarlathotep, which seems to describe me."

"Ah, I see!"

I smile, showing a few bright teeth, and cover my face with my hand. It seems like I can move again.

"As long as you understand... I advise you not to look at me for too long, or you'll go mad."

"Please hold on."

Under Nyarlathotep's gaze, I seriously dig my hands into the dark ground, frantically excavating, with dirt flying everywhere. Why is there soil here? Never mind, just dig first.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm planning to dig a hole and bury myself... Let's pretend I'm still dead, and you can pretend you never saw me. It's better for both of us!"

I quickly tuck myself into the freshly dug pit and cover myself with soil.

"I don't want to go mad after dying; that's too disgusting. I'd rather just be dead."

"Indeed," Nyarlathotep laughs. "But don't you think it's a waste? So many fun ideas, yet no chance to apply them. Besides, what's wrong with madness? Haven't you already died once?"

"Just put me back in the ground. I don't really have any attachment to this world," I make a final struggle.

"I see, it's guilt. I'll remove that emotion from your soul."

"Do you think I'm a computer, to be assembled however you like?"

"You can't do anything about it, can you?"

"I'll make you regret it. I don't like being controlled," I suddenly calm down and tell him.

"You're welcome to try, if you can."

Nyarlathotep wraps his tentacles around me, shaking off the dirt as he lifts me into the air. His mocking, cold voice pierces my heart.

"It's time to go."

Being lifted by tentacles feels novel, like flying, though having my stomach bound is a bit uncomfortable.

"Wait," I shout. "One last question. Why did you choose me? There must be plenty of troublemakers out there!"

Nyarlathotep pauses.

"If it's midnight and I want to know the time, what's your first reaction?"

"Sing a song out the window."

"Why?"

"Because someone would shout, ' Who the fucking is singing here at two in the morning?!'"

Logically, answering so randomly like I did would probably upset the other person, right? But it turns out I was wrong.

"Correct answer!" Nyarlathotep exclaims happily, even before I finish speaking. "That's why I chose you..."

Suddenly, I feel a sense of helplessness.

"Is it that no matter what I say, you'll think it's right?"

"Yes, I chose you, so you have to go. It's as simple as that."

Nyarlathotep suddenly pats his head.

"Right, defense tactics. When dealing with them, you need some self-defense skills. You can't just shatter at a touch."

"Is it something like a cheat code?" I chuckle.

"I know you've already read all about the Cthulhu Mythos."

Nyarlathotep's smile becomes increasingly bizarre, his mouth stretching nearly across his entire head, revealing glimpses of sharp teeth.

"Let's exchange those memories then."

His tentacle reaches behind my head and pulls something out.

Wait. Can that actually be pulled out?

"What did you do? What did you pull out?"

"Don't worry, it's just some unimportant stuff."

Nyarlathotep's tentacle shakes three square geometric shapes.

"Now you have a bug-like constitution, just like Randolph Carter... except he has a high sanity value, while yours won't drop."

"Alright, it's your turf, no objections here."

"...Yes, my turf," he says.

I've resigned to my fate, but quickly realize something's off. The tentacles have already pulled those things out, so why am I still not put down? Where are you taking me? Why is there a toilet? Why am I being held head-first over a toilet?

"It's time to travel to a wonderful world."

So that thing is a portal? Wait, who designs a portal like this? Can't you take inspiration from Platform 9¾? Even a cliché door would be better! Disgusting! Do you have psychological problems?

"Don't worry, I used citrus-scented cleaner," Nyarlathotep reassures me, his tone like comforting a child.

"What does that have to do with cleaner?"

"It does. Would you rather drink citrus-scented cleaner or cleaner-flavored citrus juice?"

I fall silent, not because I don't want to speak... but because I've already been shoved in, head-first, and it seems the flush has been activated.

Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle—

The water drowns out all other sounds.

"Stay calm, dizziness is normal."

……

And that was my first encounter with a deity. Nice to meet you, I'm Haunter, and yes, still Haunter. I'm here to show you how to survive in the most perilous worlds. Also, I don't like citrus-scented cleaner. Nor do I enjoy cleaner-flavored citrus juice.