Support Group

“Hello, my name is Hastur, and I am an addict.”

Every one in the circle chants in unison “Hello Hastur.”

It was all the grim masked speaker in the yellow coat could do not to smile, not that this would matter.

“It has been 28 days since last I lead the dance in dark revels in the name of horrors from beyond the stars and understanding. 28 long days...”

There is a murmuring of faceless support from the group; they all know what its like to go without your crutch, it’s hard.

“It’s not like I really miss it, it just that it feels so right. It’s like all that lives and souls on the earth are just a transitory offence to the true masters of the world and that all our great works are but quicksilver and dross before even their least servants and slaves.”

The organiser steps forward; calm and assured, his name is Jeff and he has a degree in psychology. He believes this make his qualified to help people with their problems. He has not yet learned some problems are bigger then what goes on in peoples’ heads. “It is okay Hastur” and again the figure in yellow has to suppress a grin, not that it would matter, “these feelings are natural for someone in your situation. You’ve been though a very rough time but it’s ok, you are with us now, and we understand”.

Jeff doesn’t really understand, he has never danced naked in the gibbous moonlight feeling the unthinkable power of the cosmos ripping though him showing him the grand majesty of his insignificance before the throne of gods and demons that hold sway over all that is, his only addition is to television, situational comedies no less. But he is just trying to help so we cannot hold this lie against him, much. The crack addict has a pretty good idea what the one in yellow is feeling though.

The figure in yellow takes in a quick breath and gently sobs “It’s just... the moon in nearly full tonight and it’s the solstice and there are all these THINGS going on and it so hard to tell what matters anymore and if we could just, you now, go back once more it would be like I’d never have to do it again, like no one would have to do anything again cause it would never matter again.”

The required moment passes while the figure in yellow collects himself. Glancing about, head shaking they turn to leave “I don’t belong here, I’m just trying to get it started again.” And they begin to stalk out.

Jeff pipes up, his voice nasal and vaguely annoying “It ok Hastur you can stay, we welcome you, right everyone?”

On cue and nearly rehearsed everyone in the circle holds hands smiling, some sincerely, others not, “You are welcome here Hastur, you can stay here Hastur, come back Hastur.”

There is a clatter as a mask hits the ground and a visage behind it smiles, though none can tell. “Thank you everyone for your support, but I think these meetings are part of the problem.”

That night there is screaming and sky clad dancing under the gibbous moon to the true masters of the world and now Jeff really does understand what the figure in yellow is going though, he has seen the grand majesty of his insignificance before the throne of gods and demons that hold sway over all that is, though it doesn’t matter anymore, nothing will matter ever again.