BY: PUNISHER
Kirk danced and leapt around the obelisk. He and the rest of the crew lost in a primal bliss that knew no good or evil but simply a madness and insanity of simple beasts who had been kept too long. The triple moons over the lost city of R’lyeh seemed to dance in the sky for they where not wholly there. In a way they were made of that same tenuously amorphous stuff which form the bulk of Great Cthulhu himself. For he danced too, with his gibbering minions and the hybrid children of the Sleestack and something unholy. And he danced as he had danced before in ancient eons past, before the shoggoths had been covered in ice, before the worshippers of Bokrug had slipped away, before the doom that came to Sarnath and to the City of Many Pillars…and before mankind had stopped calling out to the stones. And in his blissful glee, Great Cthulhu danced on, his horrible bass breathing/puffing sounds blending discordantly with the chants of the Sleestack and former Enterprise crew….and that was his promise…all would be equal under his rule…for inequality cannot exist within the realms of insanity and so Cthulhu danced on…as a mountain danced. And as pride had undone him before, he failed to notice the figure in white who was not dancing and instead moved purposefully towards him.
And Cthulhu stopped. And gazed. And marveled at the tiny figure that would dare defy
him. He watched the figure as it herded the humans into one tiny group. Mankind was an
easy race to control. Cthulhu laughed. And the sound itself was enough to throw the
Starfleet men into other bouts of raving, foaming contortions. And the sound angered the
white figure and it stood before Great Cthulhu as a flee stands before an elephant. And it
raised it’s pitiful arms in the air and whined before It.
“You cannot pass!! I am a servant of the secret fire, return from whence thou came
unholy creature. You cannot pass!!"
Then Cthulhu really did laugh. And this time the sound caused hurricanes and tidal waves across the globe and threatened to sunder the bond between dream and reality.
Gandalf raised his staff, knowing it would probably be his last act. He turned his head towards Kirk. “Kirk!! This may seem like a dream but there are different states of being, dreaming and waking, real and unreal…complete your mission….and Fly! The enemy is upon us!”
Gandalf’s cry brought Kirk’s psyche grudgingly back to reality in time to see Gandalf cast a powerful spell.
“Paga Nastrinomas Vas Por Flam!” Gandalf chanted and smote his staff into the gelatinous bulk of Cthulhu. The staff melted instantly and Gandalf was thrown backwards. But Cthulhu had been hurt…and he let forth such a bellow that it curdled the air with charnel breath and the world smelled like a million open graves. Gandalf smote him again. And again Cthulhu howled and this time his scream caused the souls of thousands of sensitive dreamers to flee from their bodies.
Cthulhu stumbled back toward the cave entrance and pressed his impossible bulk to it. He spun, or shifted, a tangible malice oozing from him like some sepulchral miasma, and lashed out with his tentacles. And Gandalf was his!! He pulled Gandalf into the cave with him.
Kirk thought briefly of helping Gandalf, but what could he, one lone man, do against such an incarnation of evil. He looked back to the cave, where surely Gandalf would die, and he thought he heard his friends voice one last time.
“Fly you fools!”
Then the beating of the Sleestack tom-toms picked up a different frantic rhythm with renewed zeal and their prancing under the gibbous moons was too much for Kirk. And mercifully, he awoke.
"Jim!! Jim!! What's wrong damn it!"
Kirk cracked his parched lips and croaked. "The drums...they are coming."
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