Page 10 of Dark Stars

Resigned to the tongue-lashing he'd get later—grateful, in fact, if that was all he had to worry about—Bobby again swept Alejo up into his arms.

"I'm so sorry about this."

"About—"

the question turned into a bellow of outrage as Alejo went flying, landing in the middle of the river with an echoing splash. As he surfaced, Alejo shouted, "I'm going to kill you myself!"

before the current swept him away down the river and out of sight.

That problem addressed for the moment, Bobby put his full attention on the much greater one. They were surrounding him like piranha now, the Dark Young, their maws dripping acidic green goo, their tentacled bodies undulating in eager anticipation of striking, cloven hooves scraping along the cave floor. Ctheldush…we come for you…nasty, tasty spawn of the Secret One…

"I can't be nasty and tasty at the same time,"

Bobby muttered. As they converged on him, he counted seven of them, but felt more than that. Why so many? Normally just one of the little fuckers was more than enough for even a large cult. Two was an abundance, and anything more wasn't just overkill, but tantamount to suicide. Well, more tantamount than getting involved with his relatives at all.

Surrendering his human shape, Bobby sank into the primordial dark that dwelled deep beneath the surface of the mortal plane, grew and unfolded into the body he knew best: not quite as large as his mother, but still too large for any human to endure, skin mottled and dark, a mass of writhing tentacles, no two alike, and a thousand eyes that glowed the yellow-green of his beloved fireflies.

They attacked with vigor, spewing acid and shredding flesh, ripping at his tentacles and crushing others with their hooves. But Ctheldush had been dealing with them since he was a child still attached to his mother like a fragile parasite, absorbing all the knowledge she had to give until he'd been strong enough to tear himself free.

His fondest memory was of his mother burbling in her attempts at affection while his father stroked him and sang him lullabies. They'd called his mother weak. Broken. Strange, which was real fucking rich coming from primordial beings who got confused by a clock. And of course, because she was weak, he was weaker. Pathetic. Not a real old one. Hypocrites that they were, they did not care about such things until something violated their own mercurial, incomprehensible rules.

In their arrogance, their gleeful bullying, the Dark Young always forgot one crucial thing: they were the servants of the All-Mother, beings woven from the dark despair at the heart of an ancient black hole. They were not true children, made from her will but not her blood. Ctheldush was her blood, her great-great grandson, from the line of Cthulhu, her most favored grandchild.

He would eat them for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The collar he wore prevented him from bringing his full self into the mortal plane, but he could have his fun here in the dark.

So he did. Every bite received was returned thrice-fold. Every crushed and torn tentacle was one ripped off and fed to them, until they choked on them and drowned out their own screams. Every acid burn was met with a splash of his blood, hot and burning in a way that made acid a child's toy.

When they were properly broken and chastened, with no fight left in them, he set to ripping them to pieces, tossing them away to be reabsorbed by the primordial dark. Stop mistaking me for the child I used to be, he hissed at them as the last wailing pieces vanished.

Once he was confident the Dark Young had all been taken care of, Ctheldush folded himself down and in until he was once more plain old Bobby.

He wiped sweat from his brow, looked around one last time to be certain the problem was resolved, then carried on down the narrow ledge along the river to find his irate human…boyfriend? Lover? Partner. Human, at any rate.

Eventually, the ledge gave out entirely, and he had no choice but to jump into the water and let the current carry him onward, down down down into the dark.

It didn't take long before he reached a point where he could swim to shore, rocky and uncomfortable though that shore was—and full of hostility, to judge by the glare Alejo was giving him.

"I'm sorry."

"Good for you,"

Alejo bit out.

"I thought you were different, especially now that—"

He turned away, staring hard enough at the rocks that Bobby's mother would be impressed with the ferocity.

Bobby drew closer, but not so close he'd violate Alejo's personal space.

"I didn't toss you in the water because I thought you were too weak or anything like that."

"So you thought I was capable of fighting them but threw me away all the same?"

"I didn't throw you away,"

Bobby said, raking his hands through his hair.

"I was protecting you! Those creatures used to treat me like a toy. They'd rip off all my limbs, poke out my eyes, dissolve my flesh with their acid, grind their hooves into my face…they're horrible and awful and no match for even the strongest, most powerful human. But that doesn't mean I think you're weak. It means the odds were stacked well against you. If it had been their maker who'd shown up, my ass would have been in the river too."

For all the good it would have done him.

"I couldn't protect you and fight them, and you're important to me."

Alejo said nothing, but he wasn't completely turned away anymore. Progress. Bobby moved a smidge closer, though still not close enough to touch, as badly as he wanted to do precisely that.

"Just hours ago you admitted you didn't even think primordial beings existed. There is no way you can fight them directly just yet. You're inexperienced, and it was a bad time to teach you, that's all. I promise. I'm sorry for hurting you, I never want to do that."

Sighing, Alejo turned to face him full on, and grumbled, "Fine, but if you ever throw me in a river again, I'm going to do things that will make even your oh-so-special primordial ass afraid."

Bobby grinned.

"You're saying you think my ass is special?"

Alejo rolled his eyes.

"Nevermind. I take everything back. Go throw yourself in the river."

Instead, Bobby sidled up close and looped his arms around Alejo's waist, relief rushing through him when Alejo threw his own arms around Bobby's neck and pulled them flush together.

"I really am sorry."

"It's fine, I get it, even if I don't like it. But seriously, never do that again. Just tell me to run or something."

His mouth turned down into what could only be described as a pout, and it was more adorable than Bobby would ever admit.

"Seriously. I'm soaking wet and freezing cold now."

Bobby dropped a brief kiss on his mouth.

"I promise no more river tossing, and I can take care of those little problems."

He gave Alejo a softer, lingering kiss, spreading his hands across his back and letting his arcana trickle out. It wrapped around them, and by the time he drew back from the delightful kisses, they were both warm and dry.

"There. The warmth should linger for a while, so you don't get cold again while we're down here. If you start to, let me know, and I'll redo it."

"Handy,"

Alejo said, licking his own lips.

"So tell me all about this big, bad battle between you and those… what did you call, Dark Young? What are they exactly?"

"The mind-spawn of Shub-Niggurath, who is also known as The Black Goat with a Thousand Young, the All-Mother, the Mother Goddess, the Lord of the Woods, and still more names. She created the Dark Young from pure will and the despairing heart of a black hole that even time itself forgot. They are summoned to work in her name, to accept sacrifices and recite the prayers. She favors them, though not as much as she favors Cthulhu, my grandfather, her grandson."

"I didn't think your type did things like favorites."

"Even the Great Old Ones are not entirely immune to the power of emotions. They simply feel them differently. She would still kill and consume him if it was necessary to her wants or needs, but she would feel something more than the typical indifference about doing so. So, favoritism."

"So is she going to be pissed you just killed several of them?"

"She won't even notice a few are missing, and if she does, she'll create more. They get eaten by her and the others all the time."

"You have the strangest family, and believe me, I know strange families."

Bobby grinned.

"Yet here you are still putting up with me."

"We'll see if you still put up with me after you get interrogated by Mamá,"

Alejo muttered, before kissing him again in that quick, shy way of his before stepping back.

"So what do we do now?"

"The smart thing would be to leave, but I say we press onward, see what we can learn. All this ridiculous secret tunnels, secret river, creepy statues, annoying niblings must lead to something interesting."

"Interesting is one word for it,"

Alejo said.

"All right, then. Lead the way."

"Call me MacDuff."

Bobby grinned when that got him an eyeroll.

Stepping back, giving them both plenty of room, he finally gave the space they were in a proper look over. Dreary cave, with only torches for light. Guess they hadn't been able to get their dubiously strung electricity down this far.

"I smell petrichor. Not a smell you find in caves. There's green down here somewhere. That would explain a lot."

"What do you mean?"

Alejo asked as they started walking.

"Shub-Niggurath is the All-Mother, a deity of fertility, if twisted and perverse, and so her powers are bound to the earth, to soil and growth, to life. She can only be summoned by mortals in the midst of an ancient forest beneath the light of a new moon and with a steep offering few are willing to pay—at least immediately. Instead baby cultists wait until the dark of the moon and make a blood sacrifice in the woods to summon her Dark Young. To find them skulking in caves, well beneath all that feeds their power…Well, it's like finding a fish swimming in sand. Combine that with the fact they've summoned not just one or two but several…and you can call me highly concerned."

He paused as they came to a crossroads, their one tunnel splitting into three paths, and took a deep breath.

After a moment, he pointed to the left-most path, dark and narrow, with no light visible from where they stood, though that wouldn't affect him any.

"This way, the petrichor smell is coming from that direction."

"Smell anything interesting from the other two?"

"People, though not currently present. Blood, old and new. Gunpowder. Steel. More of those herbs we found earlier. Nothing good, that's for sure."

Alejo sighed.

"Well, let's go find the source of this petrichor, and then go from there."

"Stay behind me, stay close. I don't dare call up light, not until we know what's on the other end."

"Got it."

Bobby resumed walking, some of his growing tension easing as he felt Alejo hook fingers through his belt loops, close but careful not to trip either of them up.

They walked for what felt like ages, but probably wasn't more than ten, twenty minutes.

They took several tight turns in a tunnel that seemed to get smaller and smaller, until they were hunched over to get through the last stretch of it.

On the plus side, the further they went, the less dark it became.

Never bright, but just visible enough that Alejo could let go of him and walk on his own without issue.

There was one last bend, and a sharp increase in light, and then they were tumbling out into…

A forest.

The caves hid an entire whole ass forest, growing in a natural stone dome.

High, high above sunlight streamed down from various cracks.

What must all that look like from the outside? How had it never been found before?

Well, that wasn't a hard question to answer.

Between creepy cults and primordial assholes, entire cities could be hidden, nevermind a cave forest that was already hidden.

It was absolutely beautiful, like the thick, dark forests of famous fairytales, filled with creatures that most humans accounted myth these days.

The damn thing must be at least a few acres, like a great forest that had been entombed, even though the cave had obviously been here first.

The petrichor smell was soft, pleasant and soothing in a way wholly unique, found nowhere else he'd ever been.

He could hear wildlife, birds and squirrels and other small creatures.

How would they have adapted to life in a cave, versus their relatives who lived above the earth? He was no scientist, but the studies would be fascinating, enthralling.

Maybe when this was all over and he'd cleansed the place of primordial rot, he'd make certain the right humans found it and saw it treated well.

"Incredible,"

Alejo breathed.

"Like a fairytale. I want to explore it like Little Red Riding Hood."

Bobby snorted a laugh.

"Didn't she get eaten by the wolf?"

"She got free again,"

Alejo replied with a scoff.

"Anyway, I have a boyfriend way worse than any wolf."

Shamelessly preening at the words, Bobby led the way into the woods, taking hold of Alejo's hand just because. He could easily get used to this, walking hand in hand with Alejo wherever he went. Though he'd prefer to do so strolling down a street or dragging him into the bedroom, but those were thoughts for later.

For the present, he focused on the steadily increasing presence of evil he was feeling, letting it guide him through the forest, finally reaching what was probably the exact center of it. Where they found precisely what he'd expected:

An enormous statue that had Alejo gasping and jerking back to huddle behind him, arms wrapped tightly around Bobby's waist; and an enormous stone altar, stained with blood old and new. If he explored the tree line surrounding the clearing, he would probably find all manner of bones, including those of newborn babes.

"Wh-what is that thing,"

Alejo asked, shuddering against him, head buried against his back.

"It's awful."

"A representation of Shub-Niggurath."

Bobby stared at it, grimacing slightly, because he might not struggle to look upon his relatives the way nearly all other creatures in existence did, but that didn't mean looking at the All-Mother was pleasant.

This statue was of the most common way humans interpreted her form, a larger, grander, and more ominous version of her Dark Young, a creature reduced to the size of a redwood in most interpretations, a branching tower of writhing tentacles and dripping maws from which spewed all sorts of ill-born creations, from feeble things that barely drew their first breath before being consumed by something else, to beings much, much worse than the Dark Young.

Far worse than the statue itself, though, was the base, where stone vessels like those used to store pickled and fermented foods in ancient times had been carved.

They were also covered, and those covers locked in place.

A bad sign if ever he'd seen one.

He turned and hugged Alejo close, kissing him softly, stroking his hair.

"Stay here. I have to investigate those vessels."

"Why?"

Alejo asked.

"I'm getting really tired of getting freaked out by statues."

Bobby kissed his temple.

"In your defense, they're meant to freak you out. Stay here, and if I tell you to run, do it."

"I will."

Reluctantly leaving him at the tree line, Bobby headed across the field, making a wide berth around the foul altar before approaching the statue and climbing up until he was standing amongst the stone vessels. It took no effort to snap the lock, and he tossed the pieces aside before removing the lid and tossing that as well.

Inside, exactly as he had feared, was the grayish, faintly pearlescent Milk of the All-Mother. Humans who drank it were twisted and warped into unholy perversions of life, yet another way she 'birthed' her many dark creations. If he drank it, it would be like snorting cocaine. Nobody wanted that.

He couldn't just dump it, though, that would be even worse than dumping ordinary toxic chemicals.

He could, however, do something very very naughty.