It all seemed to go so well. Alabaster canes lined the roads and streets like banisters or crucified heretics. Light from the black sun shone down with infinite malevolence. The sea ran red with blood and the dead rose from their silent slumber. Guts and gore spurted from kitchen sinks. Cracks in the ground opened and spewed forth glowing magma. Then suddenly a beautiful flower bloomed from in-between the eyes of a decaying corpse. The awakened Cthulu, who had just risen from the pond in the local park, shrieked his displeasure. He was so aggrieved he almost didn’t eat the little old lady that had been out walking her dog. It takes a lot to almost put an elder god off his breakfast.
This didn’t stop the apocalypse of course but it ruined the mood a bit. The souls of the living were consumed and the algae-topped city of R'lyeh rose from the briny waves.
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