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He struggled, a sudden cold sweat dragging down strands of his hair to his forehead. The more he fought, the tighter the tendrils gripped, until tears prickled in his eyes. Carter gave up, gasping. The tentacles eased their grip.

The familiar voice - the only voice that escaped from the locked box of his memories - laughed.

The stranger's footsteps created no sound. Despite that, he could sense the eldritch presence that approached like a chill on his skin, an ache in his chest. He did not look towards the man. He clenched his eyes shut.

A drop of sweat traced down his neck. A long, warm finger brushed it away.

"Randolph…" the voice called, sticky and sweet as honey.

He grit his teeth. He wasn't going to argue with this madman again.

"How did you find me?" Carter said instead.

"There is nowhere you can hide," the man said. "There's nowhere you can go, on this planet or another, where I will not find you."

"You're bluffing," he said. "Powerful as you might be, sorcerer, you can't do that. Even those like you have limits."

"Sorcerer?" The man spoke, amusement dripping from every word. "You've given me an upgrade. How sweet."

Carter opened his eyes. The rival occultist before him dressed as a modern pharaoh might, with Eye of Horus face paint by each eye and golden jewelry laced with forbidden enchantments. Over eight feet tall, his tendrils had lifted the younger man so far off the ground, they looked each other in the eye.

He didn't know either of their names. The people who found him nicknamed him Carter after some famous instructor at the university. He had no idea who Randolph, the real one, could be. This man must be truly as mad as he appeared to be, as he must be after using such dark magics, to mistake him for another.

"You know you can just ask my name," the Pharaoh said. "Just say the words I know you know. I will answer. I will confess."

But there was nothing to say. He didn't know the words. He didn't know anything. Whatever memories he had from before remained sealed in the abyss of his subconscious, likely never to be freed.

Amnesiac he may be, though, he knew a taunt when he heard one.

"Don't you lay a hand on that site!" Carter said instead. "All of the relics-"

"Need to be taken to the Miskatonic," the Pharaoh brushed his hand through the air, waving the words away. "You are dedicated even now, I admire you for that. But I'm not here for that."

The smile on the Pharaoh's face grew.

"I'm here for you."

Carter stiffened. His pulse jumped in his veins.

"E-Excuse me?"

"There's a lot you've forgotten, my rebellious pet." The Pharaoh pressed closer now, his armbands clicking together as they wrapped around the other's body. "I don't have time for a full lesson. Your friends are on the way. But the next time I find you…"

His wide eyes could not look away. The Pharaoh smiled. His breath caressed over Carter's lips.

"Yes… I know what I'll do with you… my precious Randolph Carter…"

Something sparked in the back of his mind. "W-wait-!"

The man's lips swallowed his cry.

No, it wasn't the first time he'd been kissed by this madman. No, it wasn't the first time he'd been trapped in the Pharaoh's arms. Warm hands traveling over his body. Incense, smoky and spicy, rubbing off on his clothes. A tongue like another tentacle in his mouth, his own noises echoing in his ears.

It wasn't the first time. How did he know it wasn't the first time?

Who was this man?

The tendrils dissolved, leaving only the Pharaoh's arms holding him up. Carter squeaked, squirmed, gripping onto the powerful limbs that held him up. The other man laughed, breaking the kiss. With far more care than Carter wanted to be given, the Pharaoh settled him down into the dirt. He towered over the other man. The Pharaoh's eyes narrowed. What was the magic that made them seem to glow yellow?

"I shouldn't," he mumbled. The glowing eyes closed, he sighed. The man straightened, and smiled.

"Until next time," he said.

The Pharaoh turned his back, and Carter did not stop him, watching as his silent steps carried him into the dark.

Carter shivered. He touched his lips with shaking fingers.

Randolph Carter. The man they'd named him after. He'd vanished, was assumed dead, in the 1920s, wasn't it? Did this madman believe he was…

But even with magic such things were impossible. Even the outer gods themselves couldn't… couldn't what? What were they incapable of? Would they even be capable of defying time and death itself?

How do I know you, Pharaoh?