“Your investigators stumble into the Aberghast mansion's dining room after bashing open the locked door. There's been no sign of Sweetheart, Mr. Multz, the pitbull, or Frederick, your ghoul friends, despite the strange call you received from Frederick, and the locked dining room is the last place you have to look. You really should have just given up and gone home.
Sitting at the bloodsoaked table in a blasphemous parody of the last supper are thirteen ghouls you don't recognize, dressed in the finest clothes they could plunder from graves. You spot a magnificent Victorian suit stained with the juices of a corpse, a delicate wedding dress bleached white, an eighties shoulderpad suit still smeared with cocaine, blood, and brain juice, an American general's uniform caked with the mud of the trenches, and even the costume of an Egyptian noble. The faces glaring at you from above this faded finery display the worst aspect of beast and man. Dull malicious eyes glimmer with an obscene hunger and a razor-sharp intellect and wormlike tongues gently caress lipless mouths filled with far too many sharp bloody teeth. The worst horror is what they have been eating however: you recognize, among the far too fresh corpses, the remains of your friends. You can see Pitbull's weirdly squashed and elongated skull through the chunks they've ripped off her head. The ten thousand plundered wedding rings and love tokens of Sweetheart lie scattered among his half-devoured remains. They used Mr.Multz's shovel to crack open his skull and shucked his brain out like an oyster. Frederick's head lies on a plate in the center of the table. The expression on his face is a mixture of stark terror and seething rage. You can see the fancy ghoul had been ripping chunks and eating bits of his face.
“Oh save us brave human heroes! Save us !” the ghoul in the center says. In Frederick's voice. You didn't notice before, but the cell phone you bought Frederick, never Fred, is right by his right hand. Almost as one they step onto the table and begin to advance on you. Roll for sanity. “
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I mean, think about it moids: why should ANY woman worth her salt choose a pathetic weak m*Le over a strong GVLDEN RETRIEVER? The GVLDEN RETRIEVER doesn't worry about silly things like "red flags" and "children" and "boob size" and "weight"; They see a tight, wet opening, they stick their peepee in it, it feels good so they keep on going. They pound into your girlfriend with such force she is moaning, begging for more doggy peepee. She is darn near pissing herself, but the GVLDEN RETRIEVER doesn't stop. His knot swells. Your girlfriend, mind blanked by orgasmic bliss, is bound to the GOLDEN BVLL for up to an hour while his Chad knot shrinks down, and her vaginal muscles milk every drop of GVLDEN RETRIEVER spunk. She will never look at you the same way again. S*x doesn't feel the same. She is "tired" most nights, yet you can hear the whimpering and moans from the bathroom when she takes Sparky in the bathroom to "take a shit with company". She tells you to go in the other room and "jerk it or something". You are ashamed. You are weak. You are crushed. But she will never love you again. Sparky plays with his chew toy.
Her stomach is swelling. That is strange, you think, as you two haven't had s*x in about 4 months and you had just gotten a vasectomy, per /r/childfree advice. She tells you it's hormones, but you see the worry in her eyes, the fear lying behind her nonchalant expression. Fricking Sparky, looks up at you and almost smiles. The fricking MUTT, having the nerve to smile at you. In a time like this? Why are you so fricking angry at this dog? What did he do?
5 more months has passed. The "bump" on her stomach is huge now. You worry it may be a freak-case tumor or something of the like, but you now are pretty sure she cheated on you at some point. With who? When? But most importantly, why? Sparky looks at you again, but this time, his face is blank. He shits on the floor.
It is now obvious she's in labor. She decided against going to the hospital, for reasons you were unsure of. Probably read a Reddit post on tub births or something. In any case, she is in pain, and you are doing as much as you can to help her birth the baby, even though you just know it isn't yours. That's okay though. When you find out who the father is you will kill them. How could he do this to your girlfriend? Why did she let him? Where is he? What is his race? Is his peepee bigger tha-
The baby is born. Or, rather, 6 babies are born? They are... furry. And yellow. And their ears are quite large. Holy shit. The fricking dog. Sparky. They look just like him! Except, they have human characteristics. They are grotesque to look at, you are sick to your stomach. You want to scream, to cry, to beg her to kill them, but she doesn't. She isn't doing much of anything actually. Just staring at them, with cold, dead eyes. She holds two up to her swollen breasts. They suckle, and whimper. They are alive. Sparky shits on the floor.
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True lovecraftian horror
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