“We’re in town for the week from Innsmouth”

The moon rose full in the sky over the sleepy seaside town. It lit up the mist that rolled in over the ocean, and picked out the figures standing on the headlands. The night was so cold that even the sheriff was safe and warm inside, otherwise someone might have been out walking and seen the suspicious figures, or heard the monotonous chant they sent out to sea. As it was, they remained undisturbed. After a time the waves grew larger, disturbing the surface of the mist and whipping the chanting figures into a frenzy. Some collapsed, foaming at the mouth, but a few kept up the chant. From out past the horizon, rising from the depths, it came.

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