May 29, 1921
In his house on Angell Street, in Providence, Rhode Island, Howard Phillips "H.P." Lovecraft lay dreaming, as he had done every night for all of his life, and in those dreams he saw terrible, terrible things, as he always had for as far back as he could remember. He saw Shoggoths, hideous many-eyed formless beasts twisting and contorted themselves into new, ungodly forms with every ugly second. He saw terrible things, horrible things, unspeakable things too large to possibly be alive rise from the deepest depths of the ocean and drive men, women, and children into suicidal fits of insanity and terror from the very sight of them. He saw unholy creatures, half-fish and half-man, hiding in the shadows, watching like rats in the presence of mice, with big, fat, slobbering tongues and small, beady, inhuman, hungry eyes. And through it all, through all of the madness and destruction and gore and pain and fear and suffering, he heard Yog-Sothoth and all of his millions of accursed flutes blaring incessantly, indifferent to the carnage that he embodied.
And through it all, Howard screamed.
That was, until he awoke. Not peacefully, of course, he never awoke peacefully, but he was glad to be awake. Most people would be unhappy to have been woken up at what he assumed must have been very early in the morning, but Howard was not most people. Few others saw what he would see when he slept, whenever he would close his eyes.
He tried to think. What had caused him to wake up? As he thought, his mind inevitably strayed back to his mother, who had passed away only a week prior. It still hurt him to think that she was gone, his night terrors had only worsened since he'd lost her. Perhaps his brain and simply been so overwhelmed by misery that it had forced him awake? It didn't seem at all unlikely to Howard at the time, as he lay there in bed, the image of a Shoggoth devouring an innocent family still very much fresh in his mind.
And then he heard it. A noise that sounded very loud, and very fierce. He thought that it was thunder at first, but he soon realized that that couldn't be the case as it sounded too controlled, too mechanical, and most frighteningly of all, far, far too close. Almost as if it were coming from the back of the house.

Howard's hand sat firmly on the doorknob of the backdoor of his home, shaking and sweating violently. Howard was afraid. What was that noise? What had caused it? Was the thing still there? The sound had faded away only a few minutes OK, and through all of it, he was still afraid. He didn't want to see what could have appeared in the garden, heavens no, but he knew that he had to look. He and what was left of his family could be in terrible danger, or perhaps even the whole town, maybe even the whole planet! Howard scolded himself for the last part, telling himself not to try and sensationalize whatever was out there, it wouldn't do his heart any favors and he knew it. Perhaps he'd been writing too much?
Finally, after at least two minutes of considering it, Howard opened the door. Slowly, of course, trying to make as little sound as possible. His already thoroughly-wracked nerves were further tensed by the creaking of the rusty old door. The midnight air was cold and as bitter as ever. He immediately wished that he was back inside, back safely in his bed, despite the night terrors, but he had to know what was going on. With the door completely open, Howard stepped out into the night. His first reaction was to look up into the sky, for some reason, perhaps looking to the light of the stars and the moon for comfort. He did see something strange up there, something that looked like a star, but not quite. Something more, well, mobile that seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as he looked at it. He thought it quite curious. Finally, he looked back to his garden, looking around for anything out of the ordinary, and he found what he was looking for. In fact, he was rather surprised that he didn't see it sooner. The thing that he had been looking for, the thing which he assumed that had made the noise, or perhaps been left behind for no discernible reason, was rather small. It sat at the height of a toddler, hardly an intimidating height, and in the shape of an egg. It had a glassy surface, which seemed to reflect what small light was available in the yard at night. The entire thing was completely white, save for a single black spot on its top facing him, which almost gave it the appearance of having a face. What Howard found strangest about the thing was how perfectly smooth it was, like a stone. Far, far too smooth to be a machine. This couldn't have been created by man - or at least, not man was Howard knew it. This must have been something from beyond, something not of human origin, perhaps it hadn't even originated on the planet! And yet, as much as Howard should have been terrified, and disgusted, and sickened by this inhuman creation, hewasn't. Looking at this object, he seemed to feel a strange sense of comfort almost. How could this be? He thought deeply, looking at the object that sat several feet from him. What was it about this thing that didn't revolt him?
Howard's confusion was replaced by a sudden jolt of fear as the thing began to move, seeming to levitate for the brief second that Howard watched it move as he dashed into a nearby bush, cowering behind the leaves. As he hide, doing his best efforts to make as little noise as possible, he heard a faint humming sound. Once he was finally in a comfortable position (or rather, as comfortable as one could be while hiding in a soggy bush at night), Howard peaked through the leaves back at the thing, which he could now confirm was floating through the air- and yet, that wasn't what grabbed his attention. Instead, he noticed the two blue, glowing orbs that had appeared in the thing's black spot on what he now saw was its head. Howard quickly came to the conclusion that they must be her eyes, not only from the way that they darted around the garden with a childish yet dignified curiosity, but from the way that they seemed to be so full of life. This thing, he thought, wasalive. Wait, had he really thought of it it as a "her" just then? Why yes, he thought, he had. The thing was female.
What happened next blow Howard's mind.
The thing, which he had decided to call Eve, began to float further and further away from the ground, her arms held out gracefully at her side, seemingly in preparation for something. Whatever could it be? He found his answer when Eve suddenly boomed forward through the night, moving at speeds Howard had never seen before in his life, speeds he never thought possible. He had every reason to be scared out of his mind as he watched her careen through the air with such speed and power that the leaves were torn off trees from her merely going near them, and yet, he wasn't frightened. Not even in the slightest, in fact. Instead, he was awed. Awed by her speed. Awed by her power. Awed by her beauty. He felt happy, as he watched her, truly happy for the first time since his mother had passed away. He was at peace as he watched her zoom through the sky. All of those thoughts of Outer Gods, and Great Old Ones, and Shoggoths, and Deep Ones, and the Great Race of Yith left his tormented mind as he watched her fly. Finally, after what must have been five minutes, she stopped. Eve seemed to look around the area, moving her eyes from the houses, both near and fear, to the fences and the bushes and the grass and, well, everything. Just taking it all in, Howard imagined. And then, without warning, she left. In a second, she turned her back to the house and sped away, seemingly in the direction of a forest in the distance. Howard sat there, still amazed, still awed by the beauty of this strange visitor for what must have been a full minute before he regained his wits and stood up in the bush, looking into the distance. Eve, the thing, was gone.

Beautiful? Had he really thought it beautiful? Howard was troubled by his reaction to the thing that he had named Eve as he made his way back to his bed. How could a machine, one which was most likely not even made by man, be beautiful? Howard had never been a religious man, but it still felt wrong in a way. It just seemed immoral for a man to love something that wasn't human, let alone a machine. He shuddered as he thought of the Deep Ones. He wouldn't end up like that, would he?
After getting into bed, and finally going back to sleep, Howard began to dream once again. But this time, he did not dream of Cthulhu or Nyarlathotep or Azathoth or Yog-Sothoth or Shub-Nigguarath. Instead, he thought of her. He imagined her flying through the sky, looking down on the Earth, down on him with those big, blue, beautiful eyes which, despite being blatantly artificial, seemed so full of love and kindness and curiosity. A love which Howard had never known before. He slept the best sleep he'd ever had in his life that night, and he dreamed the most wonderful dream he'd ever known, as if that wonderful machine from the stars was keeping the monsters at bay in his mind. And yet, through all of it, would tiny, nagging thought prevented him from enjoying it as much as he should have been.
Would he ever see her again?