Red Tide

We all fear the deep darkness of the ocean. It is an unexplored frontier that stirs the imagination. Yet, there are stories of ancient monsters. Cruel bloodthirsty creatures that inhabit not just the depths of the deep blue but the darkest parts of our imagination. I come here to tell you a story, a sort of cautionary tale of the island of Miskatonic. It was fifty miles from Nantucket and one hundred miles from the New England Coast. The island was a home for a small whaling fleet in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries but in the early 20th century it was abandoned. Nobody knew with certainty why it was abandoned but many claim that a monster from the depths of the Atlantic had claimed the island as its resting place. Many people who tried to return to the island disappeared or were found dead under mysterious circumstances.

There was a native tribe that lived on Miskatonic called the Chumish. Their legends spoke of a monstrous creature known as Chuu'Sath, the Dweller in the Depths. He would come on the nights of a Blood Red Moon. The Chumish said that Chuu'Sath took the form of a powerfully built human with the head and body of a Great White Shark. The Chumish would offer their first born sons to become warriors in the domain of Chuu'Sath. The Chumish believed that Chuu'Sath was the embodiment of the violence of the seas. By offering their sons they would be protected and their prosperity was ensured until the next Blood Moon. The Blood Moons would occur every twenty to thirty years.

With the arrival of European colonists and the eventual introduction of Christianity the Chumish were forced to hide themselves. Eventually they left Miskatonic and without the regular sacrifices Chuu'Sath would destroy the settlements on the island. Eventually Chuu'Sath went into a long deep sleep. Settlers came and built a large and impressive whalers colony on the Eastern shores and an impressive village in the heart of Miskatonic. Soon the dark legends of old were forgotten and Chuu'Sath would awaken to claim the island as his own domain.

The story I am about to tell is from my great-grandfather passed down in writing to his descendants. Unfortunately he was the sole survivor of Miskatonic and of his family. Nobody would believe his stories of a massive humanoid creature with the head of a Great White Shark tearing through and destroying the town with his legions of aquatic followers. He was put into an asylum and the only people who would visit him were writers seeking inspiration. It is said that H.P Lovecraft sought inspiration from his ramblings. Anyways let us set the story. The year was 1917. World War I was slowly winding down. My great-grandfather had just returned home and was recovering after a particularly brutal offensive during the Battle of Cambrai. He had rather severe post traumatic stress disorder or shellshock as it was known back then. Being home seemed to help him but he suffered intense and vivid hallucinations.

He was sitting on the beach one evening when he began to suffer intense headaches. In the sky was a bright red blood moon. A strange surge of magical energy flowed through him. "The monster! It comes!" He held his head in his hands as visions of Chuu'Sath flowed through him. The residents of Miskatonic shrugged off the old traditions. The extinction of the Native peoples combined with the strict Catholic traditions of the island residents dulled their knowledge of the old ways. Ancient magic flowed through his veins filling him with renewed vitality and clearing him of his ailments and physical disabilities.

On Sunday morning it was time for church. As he usually did my grandfather went to church and listened to the sermon. Yet, something compelled him to speak. He went up to the pulpit and began to preach. It was very much the 'hellfire and brimstone' type of preaching. "Repent! Repent! For the end is near! Our great Lord of the Deep awakens! I have seen it!." The crowd turns to listen. Some of churchgoers leave to go into town for lunch. Others sneer and laugh while some listen attentively. "The great Chuu'Sath has awoken! A red moon rises over the horizon! The tides turn red with blood! Offer that which you hold precious to you so that they may bless our continued prosperity or suffer death as repentance for our indulgence!" He would go on like this for an hour. The pastor shook his head. Approaching my grandfather he put a hand on his shoulder. "My son. What sort of madness occupies your mind?" My grandfather had his head in his hands. "A darkness occupies my mind Father. I was sitting on the beach when I saw a bright red moon in the sky. Then a voice spoke to me." Sweat ran down his face. A strange terror had gripped him. "A cold cold voice. it whispered to me. Said I would become the herald of the Old God. A God of Violence, Chaos and Death." He slides the pastor's hand off him. "The town has a week to sacrifice their first born sons at his altar. If he is not satisfied he shall bring the Red Tide." My grandfather leaves the church terrified at this dark prophecy.

Days pass. Each night the Blood Moon rises bathing the town in its eerie reddish orange hue. Something unnatural had consumed my grandfather's attention. He was desperately searching for the altar of Chuu'Sath. He spent his days preaching to the townsfolk and trying to convince them to sacrifice their first born children. The towns people treated him like a pariah. They ostracized him and neglected him. My grandmother left him to go back to her family in Massachusetts. My great-uncles tried to have my grandfather committed to the Miskatonic Sanitarium but he fought them and escaped into the marshes.

Eventually he discovers a seaside grotto deep in a cavern with evidence of ritual sacrifice. Broken skulls littered the cavern floor and bones in the water had evidence of teeth marks. Yet, those teeth marks did not belong to anything on Earth. It was the day before Chuu'Sath would awaken. The voices grew louder. It was like sharp fangs puncturing the veil of his sanity and flooding his mind with fear. My grandfather was driven to insanity. The Dark Gods had a purpose for him.

On the night of Chuu'Sath's arrival the water began turning a bright vivid blood red. It bubbled and churned as servants of the Dark Dweller walked ashore. A thick mysterious fog blew in from the deep ocean. As the townspeople fell asleep the servants of Chuu'Sath approached the town from the harbor. They slipped unnoticed into the ships of the sleeping fishermen and whalers and began their merciless slaughter. The screams of men awoke the townspeople but it was too late. The thick fog hid their movements as they hunted people without remorse.

The crunching of bone and the squelching of gore filled the air. People were torn apart and eaten. These dark creatures thrived on the flesh of humans. My grandfather left to see what was going on. All that greeted him were screams, blood and the briny scent of the ocean. Chuu'Sath roared. He ran into the town and grabbed anyone he could reach and bit their heads clean off in his strong jaws.

The townspeople who managed to escaped the massacre ended up in the harbor. They wound up on a large steam ship. Some of the survivors were sailors and they managed to get the ship rolling. As they pulled away from the harbor the sea began to churn and roil. Scraping sounds of claws against metal filled the air. Soon the ship and all those on board were taken to a watery grave.

As the town flooded and the screams of men, women and children filled the night my grandfather made his way to the harbor. He did his best to hide in the shadows and avoid being noticed by Chuu'Sath or his servants. The mighty shark monster tore through the town in search of victims to devour. The strange creatures took their victims into the mist. The sounds of crunching bone filled the air. My grandfather was fortunate when he saw a small dinghy hidden in a small dock. He got into the boat and shoved off.

The slaughter continued as he made his way into the open ocean. He saw the orange glow of burning buildings in the distance. He managed to catch a favorable wind and was blown out to sea. As the morning approached he caught a glimpse of Chuu'Sath slipping beneath the waves with his servants. Days pass and he is rescued by a fishing vessel. He was babbling and having a breakdown. Ultimately he was committed to a sanitarium on the mainland where he scribbled down what he saw in a journal that was passed down to my family.

Nobody would believe what my great-grandfather saw. They all thought it was a product of an addled mind. Yet, the realm of the sea is a strange and mysterious place. For all we know Chuu'Sath waits, his hunger growing. The Dark God will not rest until all of humanity is devoured.