The Yodel of Cthulhu: The Lisperer in Darkness: The Yodel of Cthulhu, #0

By Mike Oswald

Deep in the heart of the wilderness, in the dead of night, a lone adventurer finds himself under siege by otherworldly beings beyond imagination. Yet, these audacious extraterrestrials might soon uncover their ill-fated choice to cross paths with a formidable man who won't tolerate any foolish attempts to mess with his vacation. Brace yourself for an epic showdown as one man's unwavering determination collides with incomprehensible forces, painting a riveting tale that will leave you breathless with every turn of the page. Embark on this thrilling odyssey where survival hangs by a thread and the resilience of the human spirit stands as the ultimate weapon against unfathomable odds... and s'mores... or possibly aliens... it could go either way.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Witch House Books
• Release date: Oct 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223298083

Book preview

Chapter One

I know what you’re thinking. But Roy, why would you, a handsome blue devil international man of mystery and adventurer like you, want to start a podcast in his basement? Well I m glad you asked! As you know, I have been having a lot of weird adventures as of late, and although you, my faithful companion will always hear these stories first, I think it is important to tell the world! Or at least my thirty seven listeners and you. Now sit right back and you ll hear a tale, a tale of a mysterious camping trip.

Bear in mind closely that none saw any actual visual horror at the end. It was all censored. To say that a case of bad timing or really bad judgment was the cause of what happened in that cabin and through the wild domed hills of Vermont is a huge understatement.

Notwithstanding the savage beatings I saw and heard, and the admitted vividness the impression produced on me by these things, I cannot prove even now whether I was right or wrong in my guess that the poor creatures had no idea what they were getting into.

Perhaps they were just suicidal. For after all, their disappearance establishes nothing. People found nothing amiss in the house despite the strewn piles of alien limbs, shattered exoskeletons, and bullet-marks on the outside and inside.

It was just as though they had walked out casually for a ramble in the hills, arms, legs, and heads falling off randomly, and failed to return. There was not even a sign that the guest staying there had broken a sweat, or that those horrible creatures had been dismantled as an invading alien force.

That he had potentially mortally wounded the whole alien invasion and covered the crowded green hills with an endless trickle of alien blood and moo goo and littered the ground with alien insect innards is clear.

In the end perhaps it was just a matter of the aliens finding the wrong man waiting for them. The whole matter began, so far as I am concerned, with the historic and unprecedented Vermont floods of November of last year. I was then, as now, an instructor of adventure and literature at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts, and supreme minister of the gift shop and novelties from the