I Became A Playwright In Medieval Fantasy-Chapter 43

"Well, what do you think? Was the story of the young man Olmstead and his connection to Innsmouth intriguing to you?"

With the set changing once more, the actor playing Lovecraft reappeared.

"This time, I shall tell you a story of a family destroyed by a strange color from another world. Be warned—it will be scarier than Olmstead’s tale, so prepare yourselves."

The Wanderbühne troupe had always specialized in short plays, so naturally, they excelled in condensed, intense narratives. However, they were not as adept at longer stories.

So Phantom turned this limitation into a strength by structuring The Cthulhu Mythos script as a series of interconnected short plays.

Each of Lovecraft’s many short and medium-length stories were divided into individual acts, creating an anthology-like universe.

Ssssh-!

Following this structure, a new wave of mist rolled in, and the next play, The Colour Out of Space, began.

The story follows a mysterious meteorite that crashes from the sky, and the strange color that emerges from it, leading to the downfall of Nahum Gardner’s farming family.

And from this point on, the audience’s reactions began to diverge.

"Down there… down there, the color is moving, Mother!"

"In the well! The color is living in the well, hahaha!"

The grotesque, eerie effects that the skilled performers used to portray the mysterious color, like a living entity consuming the farming family, created an experience on a different level from The Shadow Over Innsmouth.

As a result, a small number of people began to drop out halfway through.

"I-I think I’m done. It’s probably best if I leave now."

"Damn it. Looks like I won’t be sleeping tonight. That accursed color won’t leave my mind."

"How am I supposed to drink water from our village’s reservoir now? Didn’t the Nahum family end up like that from drinking well water?"

Beep!

Audience members pressed the button on their seats to signal that they were surrendering.

Paramedics who had been waiting at the back came to release the safety belts and escort them outside.

This system, too, was an option Phantom had added to ensure there was a controlled response to any emergencies.

"Huh? People are leaving already?"

Some snickered as they watched others walk out.

"Hah, giving up so soon? What a bunch of scaredy-cats."

"Y-Yeah, I guess they’re not as brave as me. I’m seeing this through like a real man."

"Then why are you stuttering? You’re sweating like crazy, too."

"Shut up!"

What they didn’t realize was that those who gave up early were actually the smart and lucky ones.

Because from here on, Phantom’s selection of monsters from Lovecraft’s stories would start coming out in quick succession.

And, as if to prove this point—

Rumble, rumble!

"Ahhh! What’s going on? W-Why is the chair moving?!"

"Ugh, salty water?!"

The goblin-engineered motion chairs sprang into action as a massive wave rose up on stage.

Amid the spraying seawater and cutting winds, a huge figure began to rise slowly from the center.

The audience’s faces turned pale as they saw it.

"W-What is that?!"

"A-a fish? No, a person?! But it’s huge!"

The Great Old One Dagon, from Lovecraft’s short story Dagon, made his appearance. Under the eerie lighting and disorienting cacophony of sounds, Dagon raised a hand and uttered incomprehensible words in an unknown language.

Boom—!!

The next moment, the stage’s massive island set shattered and sank into the depths of the sea, as though struck by a literal natural disaster.

With an ominous glare, the demon gazed directly at the audience.

The spectators could only tremble in primal fear as they were overwhelmed by the raw terror surging within them.

"Is that really a puppet? It looks way too big and lifelike!"

"Are you sure it’s not an actual monster?!"

...Of course, it wasn’t just the realism of the Dagon puppet that was causing this reaction.

Hiss…

The audience had, in fact, been subtly sprayed with a fine mist from the motion chairs this entire time.

The mist was actually infused with a mild hypnotic agent, created by the witch Morgan. Mixed with water, this magic substance was the secret behind Phantom’s "special magic option" in the production.

It was harmless to the human body, but it slightly disoriented the senses, making reality seem distorted, as though their "sanity points" were being drained when they confronted the Great Old One.

…Thanks to this, those who hadn’t given up during The Colour Out of Space were now about to face their true test of endurance.

"Teke-li-li! Teke-li-li!"

The Shoggoth from At the Mountains of Madness appeared, chanting its alien language as it chased the expedition team through an ancient, forgotten northern ruin, and now it seemed to be coming straight for the audience.

"Ahhh!"

"W-What is that thing?! Why does it look like that?!"

"Ugh! I feel like I’m going to throw up!"

The audience shrieked as the amorphous demon creature came close enough to touch them.

But the terror was only about to intensify in the next act, The Doom That Came to Sarnath.

Boom! Boom, boom—!!

Amid flashing red lights and thunderous noises, the gigantic reptilian demon Bokrug appeared, emerging from the stormy clouds. His massive head glowed with fiery eyes as he towered over the audience, roaring a terrifying, unintelligible sound that made many feel like wetting themselves.

Flooding the great human civilization of Sarnath, the demon wiped out the kingdom in a single, cataclysmic wave.

[Y’ai ng’ngah, h’ee-l’geb f’ai throdog uaah—!!] [Ogthrod ai’f geb’l-ee’h ngah’ng ai’y zhro—!!!]

Though the words were incomprehensible, the audience, following the story, could vaguely understand the intent.

This was Bokrug’s vengeance—against the humans who had destroyed his ancient amphibious followers and built a kingdom on their stolen land.

"W-We didn’t do it! It was the people of Sarnath, not us!"

"I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll never torment frogs or salamanders again!"

"Surrender! I surrender! Get me out of here, please!"

And next came the infamous King in Yellow, Hastur.

Summoned through the in-world play The King in Yellow, Hastur’s tentacles swept across the stage while lights of yellow, red, and blue flickered chaotically.

[Wz-y’eil! Wz-y’eil! Y’kaa haa bho-ii!] [Wz-y’eil! Wz-y’eil! Y’kaa haa bho-ii!]

As the Mi-Go, Hastur’s alien worshippers, danced and telepathically transmitted their maddening chants, some audience members lost their grip on reality, muttering incoherently.

"We must worship the King in Yellow! The ruler from beyond the stars… bow before the King of Demons…!!"

"Hehehe, yellow! My soul is yellow! The whole world is yellow!"

"What are you talking about, pinkie?"

Like an ancient ceremony driven by madness, Hastur’s worship ritual played out. In the delirium of ecstasy, where reality and fantasy blended, some began spouting nonsense.

The paramedics had to rush in and rescue the delusional, taking them to the clergy for treatment.

As the series of short plays and horrors unfolded, leaving the audience seats increasingly empty, there were still horror enthusiasts who refused to leave.

"This is fake, it’s fake, it’s fake, it’s fake…!!"

"Great god, please protect me from losing my mind to this false terror…!!"

"I’m not scared! I’m not scared! These demons can’t scare me—aaahhh!!!"

Covered in sweat, some even wet themselves, yet they stubbornly refused to give in, prideful of their years of building up a resistance to horror.

For them, enduring was a sign of honor, a testament to their accumulated bravery.

Even if it meant dying of a heart attack, they wouldn’t give up—that was their stubborn resolve.

…But even the most determined were rendered powerless when faced with the climax of The Call of Cthulhu.

Gwoooo~♪

As a haunting, majestic melody echoed more intensely than ever, something rose from the fog of the vast ocean.

"Ahhhhhh!!"

"What now?! What is it this time?!"

As the seats shook with the rising waves, the audience screamed in terror.

Before their eyes, a shadow far more massive than anything before appeared.

The figure emitted a bone-chilling sound created by mixing multiple voice actors’ recordings through magic.

[Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn!]

"Screeeam! Let me out, let me out—!!"

"We’re going to die! The devil has appeared! That’s not a puppet—it’s the real thing—!!"

"How can any human imagine such a form?! That’s not a creation of the mind! That’s a real demon, let me out—!!"

Even the most stubborn of the audience were now completely overwhelmed by the sight of the enormous puppet.

Towering high enough to reach the top of the Wanderbühne tent, the colossal figure nearly filled the entire space.

Its burning eyes, squid-like head, scaly body, and massive wings belonged to none other than Cthulhu, the Alpha and Omega of The Cthulhu Mythos.

[Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn~ Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn~♬] [Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn~♪]

As singers hidden backstage performed the haunting, eerie hymns in chilling tones, the Lovecraft actor bellowed his crazed lines through amplification magic.

"The stars are aligned, and the body from beyond the stars is free once more! Cthulhu will awaken from his dreams and rise in glorious resurrection!"

Rumble…!

Cthulhu’s enormous body leaned toward the audience, his wings spread wide, and his massive, scaly hand slowly reached out toward them.

As his terrifying eyes loomed closer and closer, the audience erupted into a frenzy.

"Ahhhhh! I can’t take it anymore! Get me out of here—!!"

"Great god, the real devil has appeared! Please save me—aaaahhh!!!"

"Pha-Ph’nglui… Mgwl’nafh… Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn…!!"

Those who had clung to the very end were now left in sheer panic by the colossal puppet.

They could only feel utter helplessness and terror before Cthulhu’s overwhelming presence.

Some even unconsciously muttered the words of Cthulhu’s hymn, rolling their eyes back in delirium.

Despite their panic, Cthulhu’s enormous hand continued to descend upon them.

And just as his hand hovered above their heads—

"Ahhhh!!!"

Suddenly, a boy’s voice screamed.

Thump! From the VIP section, specially reserved for him, someone had fainted.

A wave of panic immediately rippled through the crowd.

"Stop! Stop the show immediately!"

"Holy—Prince! Prince Wolfgang has fainted!"

"Medics! Get over here now!"

Rumble, rumble…

As the chaos erupted, the Cthulhu puppet ground to a halt.

The magical lanterns of the troupe gradually lit up, and Fluffy, the troupe leader, dashed out.

"W-What’s happening? What’s going on?!"

"Hurry, undo this belt! The prince needs immediate medical attention!"

With the lights on, the situation was now clear for all to see.

The one who had collapsed was none other than Prince Wolfgang von Clausewitz, who had come to watch Wanderbühne’s horror play at Phantom’s invitation.

The 13-year-old horror enthusiast, who had stubbornly refused to leave despite his aide’s warnings, had collapsed, frothing at the mouth and soaking his trousers.

“Fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be any serious damage.”

This was the physician’s diagnosis after examining Prince Wolfgang’s condition. He had checked the prince’s pulse, packed up his tools, and then stood up to give his report.

“He merely fainted, so with some rest, he will recover quickly. There is no further need for my services, so I shall take my leave now.”

After collapsing, the prince had been quickly tended to by the medics and transported back to the palace.

Once there, the royal physician had been summoned in a panic to give the prince a thorough check-up.

"Thank you for your efforts, doctor."

Bernhardt, the prince's aide, made the sign of the cross, exhaling a sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, I, Phantom, stood awkwardly at the side of the prince's bed, feeling out of place.

“You don’t need to worry, Phantom. You won’t be held responsible for this,” Bernhardt said in a calm but firm tone, noticing my anxious stance.

“The prince was the one who insisted on commissioning The Cthulhu Mythos, and he also insisted on attending the show, despite everyone’s warnings. His Majesty the Emperor won’t place blame on anyone else.”

“Of course, I understand,” I replied, though I couldn’t exactly express relief. I let out a sigh, pretending to reflect on the situation.

‘Seriously, kid, why didn’t you just leave earlier instead of being so stubborn?’

I wasn’t some kind of sadist trying to terrorize a 12—no, now 13-year-old—boy to this extent. I had expected him to press the surrender button and hightail it out of there by the time we got to Dagon or At the Mountains of Madness.

After all, the button was meant for exactly that reason. I had designed it so that the prince could tap out at any point if things got too intense.

As I quietly grumbled to myself, a small noise interrupted my thoughts.

“Ugh… Ugh…”

"Your Highness! Are you waking up? Your Highness!"

Prince Wolfgang, who had been twitching on the bed, began to stir, his face scrunched up in discomfort.

Seeing this, Bernhardt rushed to the prince’s side, calling out to him.

Naturally, I followed, standing by the prince's head.

“Ugh... Ugh... H-haaah…”

The prince twitched and turned for a few moments more, until suddenly, his eyes flew open. He shot up, screaming in terror.

“Ph’nglui Mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh Wgah’nagl Fhtagn-!!”

"Your Highness! What's wrong?!"

“Huff... huff… Wh-where am I?"

"You are in the royal palace’s guest quarters, Your Highness! How do you feel? Are you injured anywhere?"

Despite Bernhardt’s concerned questions, the prince didn’t answer immediately.

He was too busy gasping for air, his brow drenched in sweat, and wiping his face with trembling hands.

"Ph-Phantom? Is that you?"

His lime-green eyes turned toward me after he had taken a moment to gather himself.

I cleared my throat, figuring this was the time to offer a proper apology.

"Ahem, Prince? Are you alright? I deeply regret the—"

“Phantom!”

Before I could finish my sentence, the prince suddenly grabbed my hands with both of his own.

His eyes sparkled as he exclaimed,

"Please, become my brother-in-law!"

"…Excuse me?"

What did you just say?