8th of July

Today shall be the day, dear reader. Today shall mark the birth of six new servants to the cult, and with them, recruitment shall begin. The cult must grow. It must spread the All-Mother's love throughout the world, open all peoples' eyes to the truth of Her creed. And by the Goddess, I will see that it does.

But for now, I have to sit and wait for the rebirth. Already I can feel them stir, their essence irrevocably changed to serve Shub-Niggurath. It won't be long now, I am sure of it.

Not 10 minutes after my last entry, the time had indeed come. The cult had gathered in the vault that shall be our temple, to bear witness. The fangs on my obscenely distended stomach to release a deluge of my own red tentacles and a mass of purple-black goo. It took much longer than when Miss Blake had been reborn, there being six time as many beings to bring back into this world; it was also much more draining than the last time, much of my strength flowing into the newborns. Now that some time has passed, I am sure that the All-Mother was unable to lend me her power as She must have last time, the remaking of Molly taking much of Her attention. But thanks to Shub-Niggurath's blessings, I was able to bear the burden, even though it left me drained and powerless, tentacles twitching limply where they hung from the mouth on my belly, stirring the mound of goop I had released.

And the mound reacted, beginning to move of its own volition. Shapeless appendages appeared, eyes and fanged mouths, and as we all watched in rapt attention, arms formed, then faces, a spitting image of Miss Blake's, first one, then two more, another two, and finally the last one. They rose from the mound on slender necks, followed by shoulders clad in the same style of dress Miss Blake shapes herself into, just a bit less elaborate; thus it seems to me it is an ingrained thing for Shoggoths, not a conscious decision. After all, each of the six faces rising on slowly forming torsos was warped by pleasure, eyes closed and mouths pulled into a smile of rapturous bliss.

We looked on as the six newborn Shoggoths finished shaping themselves, using up almost the entire mound, their pseudopods separating last. They stood before my exhausted form, smiling softly as one after the other opened their eyes, the gazes of six Shoggoths fixed on me as I struggled to even lift my head.

"We stand ready to serve Her with the Thousand Young, mother," they spoke in unison, and warmth gripped my heart. "What are your orders?"

Does not every mother desire such pretty and dutiful daughters? I am glad to count them among my own. As I write this, they follow Miss Blake's instructions to go through the mansion, cleaning and dusting and sorting through belongings with remarkable speed as I rest from their birth, my dearest Priscilla cuddled against my side while I recover. How I got here, you might ask, dear reader? Well, as I was still trying to find the words to welcome the newest members of the cult in my stupor, Miss Blake swooped in and glided to my side in that curiously smooth motion all Shoggoths share.

"Our mother is exhausted, sisters." It came as no small surprise to me that Miss Blake, too, considers me her mother, but it makes sense in a way. After all, I have born all seven of them. "We shall help her retire to the sitting room until she recovers. Help me, if you would?"

With a chorus of assent, the six younger Shoggoths hurried to my side - or sides: three to my left, three to my right, and as Miss Blake produced a myriad tentacles to stuff my own back into the maw gaping on my front, her sisters formed a stretcher from their hands and lifted my limp form. With Priscilla next to me and holding my hand, we made out of the temple and into the sitting room, were I was laid out onto a sofa and the accompanying ottoman, my beloved at my side with a book to read and my gaping, fanged mouth slowly closing as my strength returned.

Once I had gathered enough strength, I began this entry to recount the day, and this entry I shall now conclude; not much more will happen today, I think, for I lack even the strength to make a visit to Molly, and may need to spend the night here. I have simply given too much of my power to the six new Shoggoths during their birth, and yet...

I know I would not only gladly do it all again, I would give these lovely girls as much of my strength as they would take. It must be a pale shadow of what the All-Mother feels.