As the unholy memories of
Silas flowed into his mind, James began to lose his sense of self. It
was as if all the underground ceremonies of the past few years were
happening at once, and each of them coming to their climax. They were
others in the soul receptacle, and he saw through their eyes. He was the
cultist, chanting forbidden abominations of ancient perverted cantrips.
He was Silas, raising his knife and controlling the guardians. He was
Mukunga, slowly raising the lid of the sacred well. And finally, he was
the victims, struggling to escape this crawling horror coming from the
depths of the well, the Chakota, the thousand-faced wormlike abomination
made from the faces of its victims !
This was the last vision of James Benneth before losing his sanity.
May his soul rest in peace, ‘tough is not, we now it.
– Excerpt from “The Masks of Nyarlathotep” Chaosium/Sans-détour “Call of Cthulhu” RPG campaign
Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook from my Great Old Ones & Their Kin series for an upcoming Elder Gods Tarot project