Read Cthulhu Attacks!: Book 1: The Fear for Free Online Page B

father wanted enough to hear —across the soft floor.
    I can pay attention wheat thins are america forever until medsnurse medsnurse comes with her cuppy cuppy cuppy cuppy. He would love to knock it away, make her pick them all up, and then he’d do it again and again to show her I don’t like you belong here I need to concentrate on mahjongg king kong not have medsnurse medsnurse medsnurse meds and talking to groups of crazy people that’s where it’s at cracker mccracken .
    He saw the face in the window of the meds nurse and heard the orderly’s keys jingle as they went into his cell door’s lock and then—
    The faces disappeared. People were screaming. People not in the cells were screaming. Inpatient 02-05-9691-B stood and put his face against the rectangular grated glass of the door’s window. The door pushed open with the pressure.
    Medsnursemedsnursemedsnurse and theorderlyman are screaming they’re what’s it to you screaming and their stomachs inside their cabinetry puking something is wrong where are my meds I don’t want meds I need to concentrate on this
    Then his eyes shifted to take in the face in the little rectangular window in the room across the hall. That face was also watching the white-coat people squirm and thrash in agony, and when that face noticed Inpatient 02-05-9691-B’s face, it let out a laugh.
    His door was open. Medsnurse orderly Medsnurse orderly Medsnurse orderlyman unlocked it I am free now I run
    And he ran. He ran in his laceless orange Keds slip-on loafers down the hall, shoving open the first door he found, running down the stairs, and setting off a piercing alarm as he shoved the panic bar of the door leading outside. The workers in white coats were writhing on the ground even here, but their charges in wheelchairs or who shambled around didn’t seem to feel a thing, just like him.
    They are the crazy orderlymen whitecoats they get pained for not believing me they will never catch me Claude is raining I am invisible but still seen by the eyeballs of the things
    Even as the attendants seemed to stop suffering, slow to get to their feet or even to regain consciousness, Inpatient 02-05-9691-B starting screaming with laughter. He laughed until his throat dried out and bled, laughed until he passed out from exhaustion fifty blocks away in a nice, safe Dumpster They pointed out to him. When he woke hours later, he could still hear himself laughing, although his voice had been exhausted by that point.
    He climbed out of the Dumpster, brushed off some of the foulness stuck to his baby-blue patient scrubs, and headed south. He didn’t know which way was south, but He knew. A calm overcame him that he hadn’t known since before the strep throat when he was twelve, when his brain changed its chemistry and made him, ultimately, into Inpatient 02-05-9691-B, a once-clever murderer who now couldn’t remember not to piss himself when under the horse tranquilizers they gave him to keep him calm.
    He looked at his arm, which had an open plastic restaurant orange marmalade container stuck to it. Marmalade. I hereby make my name Orange Marmalade .
    Inpatient 02-05-9691-B—that is, Orange Marmalade—never did get his meds on that glorious, perfect, utterly calm day. The day when he started walking south, walking to answer the Call.
     
    ***
     
    From Not an Apology , a mid-career memoir by Martin Storch:
     
    I had been reading Lovecraft for several years by the time I passed A-levels, and I think the Old Gent from Providence actually was helpful in some of my academic success. His plots and his characters always stick to the strictest logic, making his stories much like science fiction instead of “horror,” a genre category which didn’t exist when HPL was writing.
    In Lovecraft stories, this seemingly fantastic or impossible event happens because of that , and the reader soon realizes that the event is neither fantastic nor impossible but instead the clear result of other actions or