9th of July

Another momentous day awaited when I awoke, having spent the night in the sitting room as I predicted; although none of us knew it yet as the sun rose over the horizon.

During the night, I regained much of my strength, but the All-Mother once again was unable to invite me or even Her new worshippers into Her realm. But even as Priscilla and I broke fast together, I could feel Shub-Niggurath's power wax in the room Molly had slept in for the last two days. A heat like that of the sun washed over me as we ate, all-encompassing and soothing, and I knew that the rebirth of our youngest was approaching fast.

Priscilla, not yet as blessed as I, only felt a faint shadow of that power, but even she knew that something was coming to a head with Molly's transfiguration. Leaving our half-eaten breakfast behind, we hurried to Molly's room to bear witness to the completion of the finest work of Her with the Thousand Young.

To the uninitiated, little Molly's appearance as she lay on the bed would have seemed horrific. Her skin was grey and cracked, eyes sunken behind their eyelids, and yet, all of us assembled around her bed felt the power radiate from Molly's body. Shub-Niggurath's awe-inspiring power warmed all of us - the seven Shoggoths, Priscilla, and me. We basked in this power as the shadows moved over the room, time having no real meaning for a while, until after what must have been hours, the connection to the All-Mother's realm was severed suddenly, akin to a great exertion of strength finally coming to an end, a great weight finally dropped.

And little Molly's body crumbled.

Yet fear not, dear reader! As we trusted in Her with the Thousand Young, so should you, for as Molly's flesh turned to so much ash, her new shape was revealed. She had shrunk a bit, truly earning the moniker I use for her in my entries, but little Molly is all the more glorious for it. You see, reader of this chronicle of Shub-Niggurath's cult, from the ashes of Molly's old body rose thin arms covered in chitin, like those of an insect, and not simply two, but instead four slender limbs with four-fingered hands, and the newborn Molly used them to pull herself into a sitting position, more ash fluttering off her, revealing that she is much more extensively changed than even I.

Five eyes adorn her face, two where you'd expect them and three fanned out over Molly's forehead, much like the All-Mother. They are facetted and unblinking, and back then they looked at each of us in turn in wonder. From her hair rise five antennae, twitching and tasting the air at all times, and to the left and right of her Molly's mouth sit a pair of chitinous mandibles, folded up neatly when she does not need them. As her arms, these mandibles are colored a pale pink, darker dots around the joints, and as Molly pulled her knees up to her body (the only thing that is still resembling a human's soft flesh, although it, too, is pink with striking patterns of darker dots), we saw that the little one's legs, too, are now chitinous and insectile.

"I feel... different." When first she spoke, Molly's voice was halting and hesitant, as if she had never talked before, and she hasn't. Not with her remade, barely human vocal chords that give her voice an otherworldly quality that is hard to place and, I assume, hard to hear for the uninitiated. "My head... there's so much... in it?"

Raising her upper left to her temple, Molly had an unquestionable sense of wonder on her inhuman face, but when her five eyes turned to me, a smile blossomed - and insectile wings unfolded from her back, carrying her into my embrace with a buzzing burst of flight and delighted laughter. Wrapping my arms around her smaller body carefully, I pulled little Molly into my bare bosom, gently stroking the girl's hair as I gave thanks to Shub-Niggurath.

"The blessings... her blessings! I can fly! And I know! I know! I build, Maeve! Praise Her with the Thousand Young, I must build!"

As Molly stared up at me with sparkling eyes and babbled an excited string of words, the other members of the cult joined us, congregating around us and wrapping us into a familial hug of arms and pseudopods. Once again, I was reminded how much Shub-Niggurath blesses us, far beyond the corporeal. It is this feeling of closeness I wish to spread, until all are one with Her.

Now, as I write this, little Molly has retreated into my father's old garage... and she builds. We hear noises, hammering and sawing and drilling and other strangeness as Molly applies the knowledge the All-Mother blessed her with for whatever higher purpose she was given. None of us dare disturb her, except for Miss Blake, who our insectoid little Molly has called inside for help a few hours ago.

I do not know what their works will bring, but I know one thing: They will further Shub-Niggurath's plans for this world.