Gaijin walks past the graveyard, having just purchased myriad miscellaneous objects from a local Wal-Mart, including food stuffs, flash lights, rope, firearms of varying power, and an English translation of the Necronomicon. Obviously, he leads a very boring life. But then he stops- his ears prick up, and ever so slowly, Gaijin pivots on his heels and faces the graveyard. His eyes widen in bewilderment as he gazes upon the party of trespassers gathered around a strange tomb. Fear and adrenaline begin to pump through him when he notices the zombie-stomp of Kat, and utter horror is poured upon him when he hears the ungodly words she is chanting. Finally, understanding dawns upon him when he identifies Derleth- he has seen him practicing his arcane rituals among the dead here before. I can stop all of this, he tells himself. He starts to rifle through his bag of goodies, intending to ready one of his many weapons.
But then, he knows.
He drops the bag. It’s contents spill out upon the ground, but Gaijin does not attempt to gather them up. He knows. It’s all too perfect. He knows - he is in a horror movie.
And then, following this logic to the end, he is attacked by greater feelings of horror then one would be filled with when contemplating the mindless depths of the infinite darkness of space that surround the Crawling Chaos. For he remembers- he remembers the time he rented the Necronomicon VHS- the movie advertised as “H.P. Lovecraft’s Necronomicon,” but which, it turned out, had nothing at all to do with H.P. Lovecraft or his wonderful works. He remembers, worst of all, the story within a story that was set some 80 years ahead of when the main plot was taking place, which should not have been possible within the confines of the story line of the main plot.
If this horror movie is associated with H.P. Lovecraft - and by the poor souls about to enter that god-forsaken tomb, Gaijin safely assumes it is - he is in what is probably going to turn out to be one of the crappiest horror films of all time. Ever.
Shaking now, rabid and nonsensical with the instinctual fear only possessed by that still feral part of him, he ties a noose, tosses it over a tree limb, places the loop around his neck, and jumps.
But the Old Ones, wherever they are, laugh. This is exactly what they wanted. For the poor mortal, who’s lifeless body now swings in the wind, never stopped to think that perhaps that VHS was one of the most potent tools they possessed - who’s very crappiness alone could cause the only men with knowledge enough to stop the Old Ones to take their own lives instead.
And the party within the graveyard step still closer to the tomb.
“Urma dooleth, Urma dooleth horoban. Amareh, amareh.”