By Delia Lavender

A L.O.S.T/Cthulhu Mythos Crossover. I do not own L.O.S.T, Boone, Shannon or any other character from the T.V. series. I also don't own Great Cthulhu or any of his friends from the Lovecraft stories. I am only borrowing them for the perverse fun of it.

Cthilda, 274,000th spawn of Great Cthulhu, stretched out her bulbous, squamous body luxuriously, enjoying the feeling of the buff puff as the male human Boone rubbed it against her scaly backside.

Ah...humans weren't so bad. Cthilda had tender feelings toward them. She received her sacrifices warmly, seldom eating them.

After all, what would life be like on the Island of New R'lyeh without their human servants? Of course, the new ones needed training...High Priest Richard had made few converts, so they still insisted on burying their sacrifices. This made teleportation and restoration a tad inconvenient, but still - it was worth the trouble. Cthilda had taken a special interest in the she-human Shannon, since she was Boone's sibling. She had given Shannon to her neighbor, Shub-Niggurath, who needed a new wife. It was very romantic. Boone and Shannon had shed many, many happy tears - more than Cthilda would have expected, considering the fact they had only four eyes between them.

Boone suddenly screamed. Cthilda looked over her shoulder, startled. Had he touched her stinger? Perhaps it was her acid reflux again - it had always affected her surface, rather than her gut. She must remember to bathe in Mylanta before her massage...

Boone held his red hands in front of him and howled. Cthilda, using her longest tentacle, grabbed the tube of burn ointment and handed it to him.

"Go on, Boone baby...take a break. Soak your hands and I'll see you in a few minutes." she grunted at him, using the closest approximation to English her thick, gutteral tongue would allow. She slapped his behind as he turned to leave, almost tearing a sucker on the jeweled rope that served as his only garment.

Cthilda rolled over on her obsidian couch and prepared to nap.

* * * * * *

She slept deeply for several minutes. Cthilda had lost a lot of sleep the previous night. Shannon had given birth again, as she always did during the first night of the gibbous moon. Her wailing had been worse than usual, since she'd delivered septuplets this time, instead of her usual quads. Seven little black goats! Well...not exactly. Cthilda had heard that one of them was blonde, just like Shannon.

Cthilda sighed.

She was awakened abruptly by another long, ululating wail from the direction of the Shub-Niggurath's. Shannon in her cyclopean bedroom. Evidently her other 497 offspring had arrived home early from her in-law's, eager to greet their new brothers and sisters.

"Oh, God...let me die!" screamed Shannon. Cthilda felt a bit sorry for her. She didn't understand immortality yet, and Shub seldom helped with the housework. And, to top it off, Shannon worried about losing her figure...

Eeeee ya ya! Eeeee ya ya!

It was her cell phone. Cthilda picked it up and held it up near her beak.

"Ia? Cthilda fhtagn."

It was Hysterria, wife of Hastur...the biggest gossip in New R'lyeh. Cthilda opened her ears, hoping for some juicy tidbits.

Hysterria never disappointed.

"Now? They're coming back NOW?" Cthilda gibbered in her native tongue. She had known that Mrs. Azathoth had run off with a Dhole, but she hadn't heard that the Oceanic 6 were returning to the Island...along with loathsome Ben. Ben...ah, Ben! He was so...so eldritch. She had first met him at Miskatonic University. They had been young, very young. She remembered his protruding, glimmering eyes...his wide, lipless mouth...the irregularities of his slightly greenish skin...all of which proclaimed him a true descendant of Dagon!

But Great Cthulhu had objected to their union. After all...Ben was too human and Cthilda was too young...why, she was barely ten feet tall...

Ah, the heartbreak...the memories. Secret meetings in the grotto. Kissing for hours underwater while the submerged stereo speakers boomed "Sea Of Love" all around them...

Hysterria, not noticing Cthilda's silence, babbled on "...Ben's bringing that divine Locke back with him. He sacrificed himself to the Island, you know. He's next in line for human kingship...though I suspect Ben will fight him for it. Politics as usual. Anyway, he's due for resurrection and I've arranged a reception...you must promise to come! It will be delicious!"

Yes...indeed it would be. Cthilda's beak fairly watered. She accepted the invitation with thanks, asking Hysterria what she should bring for pot luck. Hysterria said that Boone would do. Cthilda frowned slightly...Boone hated being pot luck. Still...it was only for one night. She'd make it up to him later.

After graciously ending the conversation, Cthilda put down the cell phone.

She would have to break it to him gently. "Boone!" she bellowed, hugely inflating her lung sacs, so the sound would reach him "Boone honey...we're going to a reception. And you're in charge of dinner..."