Presidential Campaigns

"Coming to you live with the latest news on the presidential election is Dan Clancy. To my right is Republican Zachary Clark. To my left, this fine gentleman actually implored me to not refer to him by any name in particular backstage. He also isn't aligned with any of our major parties. In other words, he's in a league all to himself."

The man sitting on the couch adjacent to Dan was an exceptionally tall man with a dark complexion. He was of Middle Eastern descent resembling one of the old Pharaohs of Ancient Egypt. He had a short-pointed mustache and beard. He was dressed in a black outfit and tie with sharp-toed cowboy boots on his feet. From a slight glance, he seemed completely normal. And yet, he had an aura that suggested he was not completely human. He nevertheless charmed the audience appointed to hearing the campaigns. Zachary had a more relaxed composure. To his right on the couch was a notebook that documented everything that he was intending to say during his interview. It was just on the typical issues such as illegal immigration, cutting funds to government programs, the usual. His opponent seemed to be bereft of any notes, which made him think that it would work in his favor.

"Alright," Dan said clearing his throat, "let's get started. Clark, do us the honors and state your views about raising taxes."

Zachary chuckled on cue. "Well Dan," he began, "you would already know I am against it."

The man in black snickered at Zachary's simple answer. Zachary himself tried to play it off as unimportant, but eventually, he became annoyed with the guest's poking fun at him. "What you think what I said was humorous or something, punk?"

The man grinned. "I seem to recall that you own a megacompany, Zachary, do you not?"

"It's none of your business," Zachary responded.

The opponent further laughed. "Remember that one man that you let go? About how he is now struggling to make ends meet." He leaned forward on the couch with his hands arched. "Wouldn't that fall on you?" Zachary remained speechless at the man's accusation. The man lifted his eyes with a smirk spread across his face. "It's always amusing to see how you mortals always take the easy way out rather than actually contribute anything to your society; how you big cats glut yourselves on all the luxuries life has while damning your fellow man to pick up after you."

Zachary's face fumed a deep red. "That is not my view, and you should know that!"

He continued to argue with the nameless candidate whose response was to further laugh at his expense. This further earned Zachary's ire. Dan managed to regain control over his talk show, this time turning the debate in the stranger's favor. "Alright, sir," he said, "what are your views on raising taxes?"

The man perked up in his seat. His eyes were a deep emerald color. "Actually, Dan, I'd like to ask you a question."

Dan shook his head vehemently. "Sir, that's not how this works," he attempted to say. However, the oddest feeling manifested within him. He couldn't speak or scream. Almost as though an invisible hand was keeping his lips sealed. The man stood up from the couch and walked in front of the live audience. Ignoring Dan's squealing for relief, he continued to speak.

"How does it feel to know that everything you've valued is worthless?"

Zachary stood up from his seat. "What the hell are you suggesting?" Without as much as a word, the stranger grabbed Dan's coffee mug and smashed it against his desk. He then took one of the shards and stabbed Zachary in the eye before slitting his throat. The audience screamed as they saw Zachary's body crumpled on the floor. The stranger looked at the shard in deep contemplation and tossed it across the set. He spoke again in the midst of the chaos. "See how life can easily be taken away with little rhyme nor reason?"

He snapped his fingers causing a wave of insanity to wash over the audience. A majority of their eyes became glazed over and they spoke an intelligible gibberish. The stage itself shifted with alien geometric shapes resembling no shape that mankind knew. Several were reduced to babbling idiots unaware of the fate that had befallen them. The stranger scanned the room seeing a few people that were not rendered insane hollow shells of their former selves. Two were a man and a woman desperately trying to pry open the doors of the studio.

"It won't budge!" shouted the woman.

They were too invested with their fixation on escape they failed to notice the stranger was quietly walking towards them. He grabbed the panicking woman's arms and forcibly pinned them against the door. "I'm afraid those doors are bolted shut."

"Please don't hurt me," she begged.

His smile returned wider than before, nearly taking up his entire face. "I'm not going to hurt you, my dear," he said in a reassuring fashion. He held his index finger in front of the woman's face and placed it squarely on her forehead. The woman's struggling against his grip subsided with her eyes getting plunged in the back of her head. Within seconds, her screaming returned, more pronounced.

"Get out of my head! Get out of my head! Get out of my head!"

She madly repeated this over and over even when her body collapsed on the ground spasming. He had shown her visions, visions of ancient guards invading the Earth subjugating and destroying human civilization. But that all paled to the vision of one of the gods awakening from their deep slumber spelling absolute destruction of everything there was and would ever be. It was the type of knowledge that would drive anyone to sheer madness. The man was cowering in fear.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

The stranger did not answer wrapping his fingers around the man's neck and snapping it with ease. The man's corpse fell on top of the woman's throbbing body. The man started to change form becoming larger in scale and his body burst open. Waves of tentacles erupted from every orifice. His head transformed into a slender, hood-like shape with razor-sharp teeth adorning it. Four fleshy arms ripped through the sides of his abdomen.

The transformation and ensuing chaos were being broadcasted through different stations. More people were exposed to the man's true form and were being overtaken by madness. Fires began to spread throughout the streets engulfing civilians and causing massive accidents. Cars collided into each other and planes crashed into buildings. Soon nothing left of the city will become a reality. The stranger observed all of the destruction letting out a guttural chuckle.

"In the end, none of your pathetic lives matter to the likes of an Outer God."

Dan found himself alone in the studio the grip on his lips subsiding. Around him were the corpses of the audience members that were driven into ravage episodes of madness. The Outer God towered over him and glared at him with his many eyes. "Another city is washed in utter chaos, and soon the entire country will be driven mad as well."

Dan was on his knees. "Please, I'll do anything you want; just please don't kill me."

Another venomous laugh bellowed from the Outer God. "Why would I kill you? I can destroy your world right now as a matter of fact." He started to slither away, turning to look at the talk show host again. "I'll let you live but only so you could remember all of the nightmares that happened this night. I shall let that knowledge fester deep inside you until you've nothing left but an insane husk screaming night after night. It is then that I shall awaken my father Azathoth to turn your pathetic world into dust. Until then..."

The creature disappeared leaving Dan completely alone with his thoughts. As far as he was concerned, he was the only one left with the full knowledge over what transpired in his studio. And yet, he could already feel that his sanity was eroding ever so slowly. In time, he'll be back and the world will be destroyed. And there wasn't anything he could do aside from coming to terms with what he was told.