Words cannot describe the object, and no language can accurately describe the abyss of screaming and ancient madness, the terrifying thing that defies all material energy and cosmic order, walking or wriggling like a mountain.

No wonder the great architect on the other side of the world went mad, no wonder the poor sculptor went mad because of telepathy.

The son of the green slime of the monster star described by those idols, he has awakened to declare his authority.

The alignment of the stars is in place, and the tasks that the ancient shoe cult failed to accomplish in their plans are to be achieved by chance by a group of ignorant sailors.

Cthulhu is ready to regain his freedom, which he has regained after countless eons of sleep, to ravage the world for fun.

Before they could turn around, the flabby giant claws swept the three people away, if there really is Anxi in the universe, then please God bless them to rest in peace.

The other three ran like crazy, and ran endlessly to the mossy rocks to the landing craft.

John Fat was a rock angle that shouldn't have existed, devouring a certain crew member, and that angle seemed to be a diagonal marking, but it did look like an obtuse angle, and in the end only Regret and the other crew returned to the landing craft.

The monster was as huge as a mountain, crawling down heavily, and the slimy time was churning at the water's edge after a few moments.

Although the crew was all ashore, the steam engines were not completely turned off, as they only climbed up and down between the ship and the engine, busy for a few minutes.

And the ship restarted, and in the midst of indescribable twisted horror it began to slowly stir up the deadly waters, and the eerie non-earth behemoth from the stars on the shore was babbling nonsense.

But the great Cthullu had more courage than the cyclops in the story, and he slid into the sea and began to chase the ship, swinging his limbs with terrible force and making waves.

The crew member looked back and went crazy. He laughed and laughed until one night in the cabin he was taken away by death, leaving John wandering around.

But John didn't give up at that time, he knew that if the steam engine didn't go all out, the ship would be overtaken by monsters, so

He decided to risk his life and pushed the engine to full speed, rushing back to the deck at the speed of light.

The poisonous salty water stirred up huge waves and foam, and the steam engine spun faster and faster, and the monster floated on the unclean foam like the stern of a demonic flagship.

The terrifying squid's head and wriggling tentacles almost touched the ship, but John continued without hesitation, and then the monster burst like a gall, and suddenly it was a filthy mess, like the scene of a sunfish exploding.

The smell was as foul as 1,000 graves, and at the same time the loud sound of opening was so strange that even the note-taker did not want to write it on paper, and for a moment, a sour and pungent green cloud completely enveloped the clipper, and the next moment the surging poisonous gas was thrown behind the stern.

The disintegrated nameless alien creatures reunited like nebulae into his gifted prototypes, and as the steam engine turned, the ship gained more and more thrust and distanced itself from the monsters.

It was finally over, and the days that followed John just stared at the statue in the cabin, contemplating the preparation of simple food for her and the laughing maniac behind him.

After the first brave assault in his life, he gave up navigation, because the reaction of that action took something from his soul, and then the storm of April 2 struck suddenly, and the dark clouds trapped his mind at the same time, and it was like a ghost hovering in the eternal liquid ravine.

It's like riding a comet on a vertiginous journey through a chaotic universe, as if you suddenly fly from the abyss to the moon and back again, the twisted joy of the old ruler and the green bat-winged hell imp laugh in unison, everything seems to be there.

He was saved in a dream, the long journey home, he was a little exhausted, John did not dare to speak, otherwise others would think he was crazy, he wrote down all the things he knew before death came, but he must not make his wife suspicious, if death can erase those memories, it is a favor.

These are the things that are my original manuscript, and I have put it in a white iron box along with the relief and some other manuscripts, and I will put in this record of myself, which will prove my sane or not, and I hope that no one will ever put together the truth again.

I have seen all the horrors contained in the universe, and after seeing them, even the spring sky and the summer flowers are poison in my eyes.

I don't think I'll live long, the bishop is gone, poor John is gone, I'm going to go with them, I know too much, and the shoe cult still exists.

I guess Cthulhu is still alive and back, back in, in the cavern of the stone blocks that the sun has protected since it was young, and the cursed city has sunk into the deep sea again, because the ship had taken that position after the storm in April, and her priest on the ground is still in a remote corner around the boulder where the idol is placed, howling to jump and kill Cthulhu must have been trapped in the dark abyss in silence, otherwise our world would have been filled with terror and mad screams at this moment.

Who knows what will happen next? What has risen or is silent, and what has been silent or will rise.

Giftable plants await in the abyss, dreaming, decaying, spreading to the precarious cities of humanity.

The moment will finally come, but I do not want to and cannot imagine, and I pray with all my heart that if I leave these manuscripts after my death, that the executor will deal with them carefully and not look at them with a second pair of eyes.

Since there is no escape, then I will find a way to join this shoe sect, and since I can't fight, then I choose to obey.

I will escape the pain of this fate and summon the so-called evil gods with all that I have.

I want everything to end...... Qingdao memory point, until the end I didn't see any visible horror, but the mental shock made me come to that conclusion.

The obscurity of old folklore is outrageous and has been forgotten by countless people, but he has a very different speciality.

I'm going to look for ways to summon those monsters in these legends, and if I die, turn this church into a library, and everything will come to the surface.

And the black armor in the church, please keep it in its proper form, keep it in the dark, that's the last thing I want to say...... Death will knock on that door, and I have nowhere to run from it, either to blend into this darkness or to be swallowed up by it.