Dr. Meredith Blythe frantically typed away on her computer, desperately trying to finish her notes on her last client, Mr. Gregory Corvus. She glanced up at the clock on the wall in her office: 10:55 am. Soon, her secretary, Indigo, would bring in her next clients at 11 on the dot. She let out a heavy sigh.

This time of the year was always the busiest, at the tail end of Winter, before the bloom of Spring brings renewed vigor and hope, as Winter's icy grasp continued to tug the wool blanket of seasonal depression over many of her patients' eyes. Not to mention Valentine's Day was coming up. Often, it's a sour day for many of her patients. She had spent the last fifty minutes listening to the complaining of a neurotic thirty-five-year-old bachelor who can't seem to understand why his romantic life is in shambles. Despite Dr. Blythe pointing out that Mr. Corvus had yet to try the cognitive-behavioral therapy worksheet she had given him the previous week. This session, Mr. Corvus took up most of their time reading aloud a ridiculously detailed "Requirements for his future wife" sheet he had scratched out on a mustard-stained napkin the night before. She could have brought it up again, that Mr. Corvus tended to fantasize too much and place overly restrictive qualifications on the women he just met, but Dr. Blythe listened intently as usual. She didn't have the stamina to endure another one of Mr. Corvus's outburst sessions. Mr. Corvus always left a bad taste in her mouth after listening to him blather on and on, repeating topics she had thought she had made headway on. One step forward and four steps back was Gregory's pace as he continued to isolate himself in the male-dominated internet echo chambers he had imprisoned himself in—regression in the nth degree.

She took off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her dark, fine, silky hair drooped over her face. She was ready for the weekend, yet it was only Tuesday. Hell, she was ready for a vacation. A reset away from the endless treadmill of people continuing to show up for their therapy sessions, yet never actually making the steps necessary to change. Time continued to creep forward. How much longer could she keep doing this? She wasn't sure; the gears of the system had slowly eroded her passion for helping others. Time's arrow was digging in; it was making her bitter. It was making her apathetic. It was causing a self-decay from the outside in. A light knock on the door shifted her head up, interrupting her impromptu introspection.

Indigo's smiling, bright-eyed, 20-something-year-old face looked back at Meredith through the crack in the door. She was wearing an absurd black dress covered in multicolored unicorns and intermittent white and gold stars. It was outrageous and certainly not professional, yet Meredith didn't have the energy to say anything about the dress. She just stared blankly at one of the tie-dye unicorns flipping its glorious mane and raising its hooves in defiance.

"Dr. Blythe," Indigo said in a cheerful tone. "Mr. and Mrs. Thrun are ready for their couples therapy session, shall I send them in?"

"Sure, send them in," Meredith said as she put her glasses back on and stood up from her desk in the corner of the room. She moved to her beige-colored chair opposite the black leather couch in her office, notebook in hand. A small cherry-wood-stained round table was adjacent to the couch, which had a box of Kleenex tissues, and a round green lamp sat on it. Behind the couch, three generic decorative abstract art paintings were the highlight of her therapeutic space. Each painting was a random collection of non-offensive blues, yellows, and tan hues arranged in overlapping circles or lines.

The door creaked open, and first in was a tall, elegant blonde woman in a dark pant suit. Her nails are painted silver, and a white, loose-fitting undershirt covered her neck, chest, and arms where the sleeveless pantsuit ended. A piece of thin, long, black ribbon was tied around her neck. Her face was angular and thin, which was punctuated by her large lips and small nose. Following close behind her was a colossal man with dark hair and round glasses. He wore a bright red long coat, black pants, a silver belt buckle, and a black button-up shirt, form-fitted to his athletic build. His wide jaw jutted out from the sides of his square face. On his red jacket, a strange golden emblem was embroidered with a capital "E" and an arrow piercing it.

"Please take a seat," Dr. Blythe offered while extending her hand palm up towards the couch. The married couple took their seats without making eye contact.

"Did you two find the office ok?" Meredith asked while jotting down the distant and cold body language between the Thruns.

"We would have found it faster if my husband had been listening to me when I told him to exit." Mrs. Thrun said while crossing her legs and turning her face away from her husband.

Mr. Thrun was silent. He continues to stare directly at Dr. Blythe, his right arm resting on the arm of the couch, lightly stimming his fingers in a repetitive tapping pattern from pinky to index finger.

"Well, seems like you were here still right on time." Dr. Blythe offered before continuing. "My name is Dr. Meredith Blythe, and I can tell there is some tension between you two this morning. You can think of me as a facilitator to help you two communicate more effectively and resolve any conflicts that might be straining your relationship. It's perfectly ok if you don't know exactly where to start. You both marked on your paperwork that you have been having some difficulties connecting recently. Before we begin, I want to ask both of you, what are your best hopes for our talk today?"

"I want my husband back. I don't know who this person is anymore. It's like he's been an entirely different person for the past three months," Mrs. Thrun said.

"Ok, Elinda, thank you for sharing your feelings," Dr. Blythe said while clearing her throat. "Why do you feel Arden has been acting differently?"

"Arden has been so distant. It all started when he went out with his old college buddies several weeks ago. It's like he left himself, and came back something else." Elinda Thrun said, crossing her arms.

“She is being dramatic," Arden Thrun rebuked. "I am not any different than I was. If anything, I think I have changed for the better."

“That's an interesting comment. Can you expand on your feelings about that, Mr. Thrun?" Dr. Blythe asked.

“Delta Sigma Omicron was my entire life when I was a young man at Miskatonic University. That fraternity made me who I am. It was nice to reconnect with some of my brothers. I had been feeling so chaotic recently, like my life was spiraling out of control. I mean, nothing was making sense. Seeing my old buddies brought back some good feelings. Hell, that night we went to a local soccer match. Had some brews. Talked about life, then we walked around campus and even got into the old frat house. Apparently, it had been abandoned. I guess, five years or so ago, an incident with hazing forced the chapter to close when a student tragically passed away. I hadn't been paying attention to the news when it happened. It just felt, I don't know, important to be there. Like something was calling us in. We drank a few more beers in the basement, and I don't remember what happened next. I just remember walking up on the old couch in the dilapidated living room. I felt different, like I knew something new about the world everyone else was afraid to admit. It was hard to explain. When I got back, I tried to talk to Elinda about how special the trip was. She seemed jealous and dismissive every time I brought it up."

“I did not!" Mrs. Thrun interrupted. "Why don't you tell her about the three times I caught you in the middle of the night at the exact same time, 1:38 am, mumbling to yourself in the corner of the bedroom? You were on your phone talking to someone, weren't you!" The two exchange hateful glances at each other.

“Easy, let's focus on I statements without blaming or attacking each other. Elinda, please rephrase that into an I statement." Dr. Blythe said.

“I'm sorry, I feel as if you met someone on your trip, because you have been so distant, and because I caught you talking to someone late at night. I feel you are trying to play the 'hero' and paint me as a crazy person, while I have been left to take care of everything around the house. I feel like you aren't even listening to me right now." Mrs. Thrun erupted into tears. She got up and moved to the door to exit Dr. Blythe's office, but Mr. Thrun was faster and blocked her escape with his massive form. She looked up into his eyes. They said nothing to each other, only continued to make genuine eye contact for the first time in the session. Mr. Thrun opened his massive arms, and the two locked together in a gentle embrace. Meredith was overwhelmed by the tender hug. A smile curled on her face. Moments like these were rare; they were a reminder of what the job was all about. Clearly, to Meredith, in this moment, neither one wanted to give up on the other. Meredith felt warmth in the center of her chest as she watched the couple. After a few more seconds of watching the couple hug, something felt off to Dr. Blythe. Mr. Thrun's waist had begun to swell.

Dr. Blythe's eyes widened; she couldn't fully understand what she was watching. Arden Thurn was expanding. His chest and waist were swelling rapidly. Mrs. Thrun began to scream as she realized she couldn't escape the enormous grip her husband had trapped her in. The back of Mr. Thrun's red jacket and black shirt began to rip. His body was soon five or eight times as wide as it was before. It is as if his body were a balloon rapidly inflating around Mrs. Thrun. Mrs. Thrun screamed as Meredith was paralyzed from hearing the cracking of bones. Something unbelievable was occurring right before her eyes. Just when Mr. Thrun's waist seemed to be reaching some limit with its inflation, his belly split open to reveal a yellow, toothy maw in his torso. A massive purple tongue lashed at Mrs. Thrun as it curled and twisted about her face. Eventually, his arms shoved Elinda Thrun's head into the open lower abdominal mouth. There was one last muffled scream as the jaws snapped shut, splitting Mrs. Thrun in half. Her lower half hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Blood flowed down Mr. Thrun's belly chin as he twisted at the hips to make eye contact with Dr. Blythe. Meredith covered her mouth as the center of Mr. Thrun's enlarged chest opened up to reveal a massive glowing blue cyclopean eye. The pupil of the eye darted around the room, as if the entity it belonged to had been asleep and was only now awakening to scan its surroundings. Then, the eye stopped and focused directly on Meredith. The belly maw curved into a twisted smile. It began to speak directly to her in a vile and hideous otherworldly voice.

"The rot of this world is the root of existence. Behold. I am the absolute. My power is second to none. For nothing in this universe can last forever. Entropy is my lifeforce, and I am the chaotic arrow of time itself. The abrupt decay, the thing you can never outrun. Know my name, human, for it is the last gift I shall give you before your unmaking. I am Zargot, the all-consuming. Despair in your final moments, and in your anguish, find purpose. For change is good and inevitable."

As the monster finished, its mouth inhaled a deep breath, then exhaled a foul blue mist from its toro's mouth that began to fill the room. Meredith screamed and turned, trying to scramble away from the odious vapor. She winced and put her hand up in a desperate attempt to block the mist from reaching her lungs. A terrible pain erupted from her finger that had contacted the gaseous substance. She screamed as she watched the skin on her finger begin to degenerate and fall off to reveal the bone. The rot seemed to travel immediately down her finger to her hand, then down her arm. The flesh dissolved into the air, and what was once bone began to break and crack into dust, mixing with the mist. It only lasted mere seconds, but the pain was excruciating as her body was ravaged by the accelerated decay. She had become part of the form-obliterating process of entropy itself.

Zargot laughed in a deep belly laugh, then, in a mighty inhale, absorbed the mist and the debris that was Dr. Blythe back into its hideous jaws. The great eye closed. The maw dissipated, and Mr. Thrun's swollen body hit the ground with a powerful thud. A minute passed, absolute stillness. Suddenly, the shape of hands emerged from the bloated corpse. Something inside was clawing its way out. Fingernails pierced the skin on what was Mr. Thrun's back, and a woman slowly pulled herself out of the bloated body. It was Dr. Meredith Blythe's body in form only. Something else had control. Although a fragment of herself remained. She had undergone a transformation. For this was the will of the great changer. Her form would be preserved until the next worthy vessel came along. For she was now the embodiment of living change. She looked down at her newly formed hands. She felt a fire burning deep within her and a need to spread the flames of change to all she would encounter. For entropy only grows. Her lips formed a smirk. She looked back up at the clock. A few maddening seconds passed, and what was once bodies and gore had crumbled into dust. She put her clothes back on and confidently walked out of the office for a bite to eat.

"Oh, Dr. Blythe, is everything alright in there? I heard some screams?" Indigo asked innocently as Meredith's form walked up to her desk at the opposite side of the hall.

"Yes, we had a breakthrough. Indigo, care to join me for lunch? There is something I want to show you."

———————

Happy Valentine’s Day, cosmic horror fans! Thanks for your attention. I hope you had fun in couples therapy with an eldritch horror.

The true cosmic horror we can never escape is entropy itself. May the arrow of time pierce your heart and evoke powerful feelings of dread :)

Check out more of my work on my website (link in my profile) if you crave more terror. Remember, you are powerful beyond measure. Use your time wisely before the inevitable decay begins.