You cannot fight the darkness.

Watch, see, as he squirm and press. One might go mad as witness, or more. The mortal condition is a fragile one. The Human brain too weak physically to withstand the warping. Too long exposed, and a head would explode from the pressure of madness. The body broiled from within by a sight not meant for our eyes. Gelatinous mass, such fate is reserved for the odd few not consumed by the snapping tendrils writhing about him. Where could something of its kind ever hail from?

Raging fury, oozing evil, mind, body, and soul. Every inch, every fiber, every second, complete evil from beginning to end, and so much of him to be evil. Mighty Ktulu, the true shadow over all our lives. Eyes burning hatred down at the frantic populace. He came to meet us, for he can only be summoned by the utmost horrors. How could this have happened? We've killed ourselves with our wickedness.

All our debauchery, villainy, mocking fate with our lies and filth. He heard the cries of the innocent until there were no more. That is the moment for which he was waiting patiently. Once the innocence of the world vanishes, his time has come again. Helicopters and fighter jets circle around and fall from the sky, their delicate instruments melting from proximity to pure malice. Such immensity we couldn't have imagined, though many tried. We pretended understanding, creating monsters in our minds that might rival his power, foolishly thinking that if he were to rise then they might rise to fight him. Seeing him now, those giant fictions, even if real, would be no more to him than any of us. Skyscrapers like grains of sand under his shadow.

Those hideous wings, spread wide so that one cannot see from end to end of their span. There is no salvation here. There is no salvation anywhere. As we look over the doomed city of San Francisco, we know no more than three steps would take him to Nevada. I doubt they couldn't see him from there, peering at them over the curvature of the Earth itself. Even now, with irrefutable evidence of his existence, it is impossible to believe the colossal form was ever tenable. Sustainable. More than mere science or magic is necessary for his being. For that alone, we now know that our pitiful understanding of the universe is insufficient and never will be.

A candle in a dark room will push the shadows back for a brief time before it burns down. In much the same way, all our nation's firepower is brought to bear, nuclear warheads detonating in the sky above an American city, seems to be all that has kept him off our soil. Perhaps he is just waiting for us to surrender to his horrible purpose. Could it be that he could advance undeterred any time he so wished, all but ignorant of the greatest weapons of mankind hurled at his body? If so, there is no telling what might be causing him to stand and wait. There is no way I can see that we will ever know, for the moment we deplete our nuclear arsenal, he will begin his conquest of our hapless civilizations.

The darkness will always return, and you will only have less with which to combat it.