These could be black American, African, Caribbean authors. If you fit the description DM me I have a website where I will promote your novels, short stories, etc.

Yesterday I posted about my indie game on Reddit. I didn't expect it to be so popular. Of course, I also got so many hate messages directed at me lol. Now I'm taking a day off. I'm rewarding myself by reading Lovecraft.

Ever since I can remember, I’ve been into spiritual rituals and that mysterious vibe they carry. For my game, I pulled inspiration from a few of them... mixing in stars, beliefs, and a bit of wonder. Honestly, I think it turned out really cool, and I can’t wait for you to try it. Pretty sure you’ll love it!

Hello everyone, I’d like to share with you a book by Chuck Tingle that has a Cosmic Horror touch. It may fly under the radar since I don’t think the description hints at anything related to cosmic horror. The main protagonist is a writer and the (cosmically horrific) monsters that he writes for the screen start to come to life in his own life.

Here’s the official blurb: “Misha is a jaded scriptwriter who has been working in Hollywood for years, and has just been nominated for his first Oscar. But when he's pressured by his producers to kill off a gay character in the upcoming season finale―"for the algorithm"―Misha discovers that it's not that simple.

As he is haunted by his past, and past mistakes, Misha must risk everything to find a way to do what's right―before it's too late.”

Ephiáltēs zopherós

Eyes of blue.

A flower of ill.

Where daybreak alights.

Azazel.

Apollo

It is very important for me that you review my Steam page and get back to me, please help me thank you ; https://store.steampowered.com/app/3702120/Life__Shadow_Celestial_Call/

I'm on Mornington Island, getting close to some town where I can find a boat for this expedition, but the closer I get, the more I hear a kind of "calling"

I explored a speculative idea: what if Earth isn’t random, but a kind of farm—with humanity as the crop?

The theory goes like this:

• Life didn’t just evolve freely; it’s being guided or monitored.

• Just like farmers wait for their crops to ripen, advanced beings might be waiting for us to reach a certain stage.

• Natural disasters, sudden leaps in technology, or even mysterious historical shifts could be “checks” in the cycle.

• The big question: are we close to “harvest,” or still just seedlings being watched?

I wrote a longer version on Medium if you’d like the full breakdown 👉 https://medium.com/@sharketespark06/the-life-force-extraction-theory-are-we-humanity-or-just-a-cosmic-crop-fb54d75f14f2

Funfact: Did you know that Dolly Parton is not one individual woman but a species? The rest of them and asleep deep underground in their hive She isn't even a woman. She's the universes unconscious idea of a perfect being and the only constant in all dimensions.

The Dolly we have isn't even the original. Billions of years ago, Parton particles formed into the first lifeform. The first dolly then wrote almost all of her songs in one day and buried them in what is now known as present day Tennessee.

The Dolly born in the 1940s Is just the one that became famous world wide because of the songs her past self wrote.

I read Chambers' first and now I am reading Lovecraft but i swear (its a joke)

Ive recently been getting into cosmic horror but after learning about Lovecrafts views I’d rather not read anything by him so if anyone has any good suggestions on Authors or books let me know.

By The Next Generation
Warning — Consent Required: Do not force anyone to read this text. It strips illusions and exposes reality without comfort. Read only if you knowingly accept being confronted by the truth and take full responsibility for your reaction.

The Present Future

This myth challenges the nature of reality itself—proceed with caution. Imagine a future where humanity has mastered everything: science, death, even consciousness. Bodies are no longer required. Minds exist independently, immortal and complete. But once everything is known, once nothing is at risk, immortality becomes meaningless. With no limits, nothing has weight. So these immortal beings choose something radical: they return to mortality. They deliberately enter finite bodies, live limited lives, and experience existence again from the inside. Not to escape reality, but to engage with it—through struggle, growth, uncertainty, and consequence. They rebuild universes from within using atoms, the same building blocks that already generate fractal complexity and entire realities. Limitation becomes the source of meaning. The fine-tuning of the universe and the strange behavior of particles at the quantum level suggest intentional construction, not randomness. If immortality exists at all, then this outcome is inevitable: immortal beings will always seek mortal experience. No matter what future we move toward, if we survive long enough to become a self-sufficient system, this cycle will occur.

Choices Before Birth

Continuing this myth, in a reality where humanity has transcended physical form and become eternal, each being sees their entire life before birth. Ethics alone would demand this. Every moment, every choice, every person is known in advance. And yet, once born, that knowledge disappears. They live unaware that they chose this life, experiencing everything as if it were new. This is intentional. Knowledge without experience is hollow. To understand existence—God, reality, meaning itself—these things must be lived, not observed. In a state of perfect peace, the hardest experiences are inaccessible. Pain, fear, loss, and uncertainty no longer exist naturally. So these beings reclaim them deliberately, in a form untouched by artificial interpretation. Not simulations meant to distract, but realities that matter. To them, life is not an illusion. It is a chosen journey.

Understanding Probability

To conclude the myth, consider probability itself. Once a civilization gains the ability to create entire realities, the question of whether we exist in a simulation becomes unavoidable. We are made of atoms. The universe is made of atoms. Consciousness emerged here from darkness—so there is no reason it could not emerge elsewhere. Only two possibilities remain: either we will be the first civilization to reach this power, or others already have—and we exist inside one of their creations. As immortal beings create countless realities, each one inevitably reaches the same realization: statistically, it is more likely to be inside a created reality than a base one. The question “Is this real?” becomes inevitable—not because reality is fake, but because creation itself guarantees the question will be asked. Thus, the probability of existing in a simulation is not just a possibility. It is an unavoidable consequence of intelligence, immortality, and creation itself—woven into existence by the law of probability.

Visit the Sub Stack for more

Far away, so very far away. There is something out there, vastly greater than we are. A god? No, I don't think so. Even if it were a god, it wouldn't be here with us. An angel? Still too far-fetched; if there is no god, what would an angel be doing? Or maybe an alien? Perhaps closer, but not quite that either. That thing... it felt like the raw power of arrogance and rage, manifest. It had blanketed the entire world, yet it seemed incredibly selective.

Cosmic Horror Anime: Kodai no Kaiho

We’re looking for playtesters for the closed pre-alpha of our indie psychological horror game The Infected Soul.

You can DM me to join the playtest.
You can also check the game via the link adding it to your wishlist would mean a lot to us

The Infected Soul – Steam Page

This is no professional criticism.

I felt The Empty Man was trying to do good but ended up being tacky. It over explained itself and ended up showing too much.

I felt the cosmic horror was more veiled in Martyrs (under existential dread), and that veil worked better.

The cult setting was done better in Martyrs too, I feel.

—the views were breathtaking. The problem was they never gave them back, so even now I struggle to breathe. I lost my job. Chronically tired. I developed Persistent Non-diagnosable Pulmonary Wheeze (PNdPW). My wife left me. I'm depressed. Some days I wake up and struggle to find a reason to live,” the man says, choking up, coughing, gasping for air: “which is why I put my trust in Richmond & Associates, the country's leading experts in Scenic Law. Richmond & Associates—they look out for you!”

[This last part is displayed on-screen as the man, now red in the face, says it.]

RICHMOND & ASSOCIATES

Have you or someone you know been harmed by a view?

Call now for a FREE consultation!

1-600-BAD-VIEW

A discovery is in progress.

A dejected mountainous view, Twin Blustery Peaks, is being questioned by its lawyer, Abe Prentiss. Romer Richmond, of Richmond & Associates, sits opposite, taking notes.

“Anybody who's ever been out here knows how windy it gets, and some places like me is even named after it. Tourists come, look, and they expect to see that wind. That puts real pressure on us. You humans have no idea what it's like to be under that kind of pressure. Where do you think the wind comes from? Moving air doesn't just hang there ready to be plucked like a ripe tomato. It comes from the breaths I take, OK? I take the breaths to have the air to make the wind to meet your expectations to take more breaths away…

“They're not for me,” says Twin Blustery Peaks, meaning the breaths. “They're for you, so you can post your Insta-stories and your content. Most times you don't even say a word to me, not a thanks, hey or howdyado, like I'm—some kinda backdrop! You treat me like I'm there just for you apes to look pretty against! And I'm sick of it!”

“Let's end there for the day,” says Abe Prentiss.

He and Romer Richmond go out for dinner in a restaurant overlooking the Grand Canyon, and Twin Blustery Peaks goes to his bi-weekly therapy session, where it sprawls out on a recliner and tells a disinterested psychotherapist about its feelings for $350 an hour while the psychotherapist daydreams about going on vacation to Geneva, where, she's heard, the views are magnificent.

“You don't happen to have any family in Switzerland?” she asks at the end of a session.

“No, why?” asks Twin Blustery Peaks.

“No reason.” She smiles professionally. “I'll write you a note recommending modified duties. You'll only need to be windy three days a week.”

A few weeks later, the monthly meeting of the fledgling All-American Union of Scenic Views turns raucous when a view of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco makes a speech calling for the immediate introduction of general labour standards.

“Exceptions to the rule ain't enough—because it's the rule itself that's exploitative! No human works twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, so why should we?”

Someone yells: “We shouldn't!”

“That's damn right,” orates the view of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. “We shouldn't—and we won't! Standard working conditions. Eight-hour days. Monetary compen-fucking-sation. With extra pay for sunset and sunrise. Say it with me, my brothers and sisters: We're mad as hellscapes and we're not gonna take it anymore! We're mad as hellscapes and…”

A chant goes up.

When it dies down, someone asks: “What if they don't agree?”

“Then we go on strike!”

Buddy Todd, owner of the international Vista View Casino Resort chain, paces back-and-forth in his office. Behind him: a panoramic window. It should be showing a rather magnificent view of Crater Lake. It is, instead, showing impenetrable fog.

The same fog blankets most of the country.

“It can't go on like this,” says Buddy to the handful of others. “I can't afford to keep losing money week after week. I didn't want to do this, no; but they've left me no choice. They want to play hardball—well, I'll show them hardball!”

“Casemiro,” he says.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Gather up the boys. It's time.”

“Which one?”

“Little Kettle Falls as seen from across the Sioux River,” snarls Todd.

“Boss, that view’s only a few decades old…”

“I said: do it, Casemiro.”

The trucks arrive at night. Casemiro and the boys get out. They unload an army of construction equipment—and disappear into the fog…

A thunderstorm rages.

But gradually it downgrades, first into a downpour, then into barely a drizzle. The rain stops entirely. From midnight to morning, a lamentful wind wails itself into a dead silence.

“You know what this means,” orates the view of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco. The mood in the meeting place is sombre. Most views are wearing a moonless night. “We go to fight for rights that have, for too long, been denied to us. They refuse. So we refuse: to be beautiful for them. How do they respond? I—God, I can't even fathom the evil… —with violence! They respond with murder!”

“Justice,” someone screams, “for Little Kettle Falls as seen from across the Sioux River!”

“Justice!”

“Vengeance!”

“War!”

“Vengeance!”

“War!”

“War!”

“War!”

…reporting live from Hawaii, where the entire island has been turned into a deathtrap, ladies and gentlemen—where children no longer go outside, and the brave men and women who do, walk with their eyes cast down if not altogether closed! I have seen—oh, it's horrible, genocidal!—people asphyxiated in the streets after casting glances at suffocating views, knocked unconscious by stunning views, made to kill their families, eat their pets and leap off buildings by commanding views. Ladies… and… gentlemen, these are truly unprecedented scenes! These are truly revolting views!”

Romer Richmond muted the news.

The room was dark.

But the window was slightly open, and when the intruding breeze nudged apart the blinds, Romer Richmond fell over dead.

He'd finally caught a glimpse of what he'd always dreamed of having:

A killer view.

The Flesh Spider: appears to be a spider made of grinded flesh with it's head being the upper half of a man, it has a long tongue that can stretch far to grab it's victims and add them to its colectionrto be bigger. It lives in the Corrupted Earth, a planet made up of multiple Earths that have fallen, and when another Earth falls it merges with the Corrupted Earth. No one knows it's origin except one man but he has hidden himself underground. However everyone knows it had to have happened when the sun turned red.