Dazkuloth

“Dazkuloth…Dazkuloth!”
“Dazkuloth?” 
“Dazkuloth!”
Frederick Ward lunged up off of his bed, and continued to scream the eldritch word. His doctor, Sam Hoff, gripped his chest and restricted him back onto the bed.
“Get ahold of yourself, Ward!” yelled Dr. Hoff. “What is a Dazkuloth?”
“He’s everything,” said Frederick. “The almighty embodiment of everything! He is me, he is you, he’s the floor we’re standing on!”
Dr. Hoff placed his hand onto Frederick’s leg. “Okay,” he said calmly. “I know you’re obsessed with this Dazkuloth character, but calm down! He’s not real!”
Frederick forcefully ripped Dr. Hoff’s hand off his leg. Standing up, he yelled, “Yes he is! Dazkuloth is very real! And he’s going to hurt us all!”
Dr. Hoff sat Frederick back down. “Can you describe him to me?” he asked, taking a pen and notepad from out of his shirt pocket.
“Okay,” said Frederick. “He’s a gigantic eyeball covered in hair, and has tentacles sticking out from the iris. Also, he is all colors, every color you can imagine!”
Dr. Hoff put down his pen, and showed Frederick the drawing of the eldritch Dazkuloth. “Did I get it right?” he asked.
Frederick tore the paper out of Dr. Hoff’s hand, and ripped it up. “No!” he yelled. “Dazkuloth is too powerful to be conveyed by anything! Words, drawings, they’re all false representations!”
Dr. Hoff stood up, and walked over to a small storage container. He opened up a drawer, and pulled out an orange medication bottle.
“You seem to be very anxious about this ‘Dazkuloth’ character. I will be prescribing some alprazolam tablets to help you with your distress,” he said.
Frederick took the bottle of tablets from Dr. Hoff, waved to him, and went through the exit doors of the hospital.
“How did your session go today?” asked Mary, Frederick’s wife.
“Crappy,” said Frederick, stuffing mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Dr. Hoff didn’t believe my theory about Dazkuloth.”
Mary rolled her eyes. “You and your little Dazkuloth,” she said. “When will you ever learn that he isn’t even real?”
Frederick put down his spoon, and stopped eating. “I’m turning in for the night.”
He picked up his plate and spoon, threw the spoon in the sink, and emptied the unfinished mashed potatoes into the garbage. He left the plate on the counter, and headed to his bedroom. Kneeling down in front of the window, he folded his hands, and placed them against the wall. Bowing his head, he began to pray to the stars.
“Please!” Frederick begged. “I know that Dazkuloth is real! Can you please, please inject the glory of Dazkuloth into everyone’s blood? Dazkuloth is very real, and he is going to hurt us all!”
Normally, when he prayed to the stars, there would be no response. But this time, Frederick heard a voice echoing throughout the air.
“Pum axam waxatstick ug.”
Category:Story