Here's a group to talk about (and write stories about) that particular blend of science-fiction and horror that Lovecraft charted out and other writers have refined ever since.
This sort of thing usually gets filed under horror alone, but I'd argue there's a strong dose of science-fiction going on in here, and definitely a presentiment of the nuclear age. If the heart of science-fiction is that 'sense of wonder', cosmic horror shows what happens when what you find is something you really wish you hadn't.
At his personal quarters he sought relaxation among the project’s latest technical evaluations. This sheaf of neutered virgin white documents, firm and reassuring as an ax handle in his grasp, expertly belied the true reality of the past week’s events. Nowhere in its sterile language was any hint of a billion dollars in unforeseen expense, nor a whisper of the pending class action lawsuit from the displaced natives and their slick east coast civil liberties lawyer.
The Magmatic Fear
The only thing on his mind as he finished the final equipment check was a hot meal and a Marlborough 100. Then he heard a lilting oath on the wind followed by a short burst of laughter and his dreams evaporated. Sure enough, there was his boss Freddy Davis charging up the hill inside a greyish cloud of dust; the wind strove desperately to unseat the tan cowboy hat from his head and reveal the pasty bald scalp beneath, but nothing could overcome the force of his hand on the brim.
Oi! You there, with the headphones, yes, you, come oe'r here quick. Try not to look so conspicuous, please and thank you, you'll upset the other patron's and then I’ll never get out of here. Just hang out and pretend you're looking at me all interested-like.
I had just knocked my last smoke off topside, right into the drink, when I saw the ship closing in. Even from a distance, I could see she was a honey. A fifty-footer, twenty across the beam. Twin engines for certain—I bet a thousand horse each. She had her foils out, that sleek hull teasing the waves with the barest kiss. She must have cost a fortune. Not that Jorgi would have paid it. He probably just plugged the owner and left him for shark bait. All so he could send that sweet heartbreaker after me. I guess I should have been flattered.
The smoke clears and the explosions stop. I’m still standing and they aren’t.
I’m about to pursue the other half of the squad when I get the stand down order. “We’ve got it covered,” I hear on the Secret Service frequency.
I walk to the gate where I’m met by my new partners. Both of them are sporting some heavy mech.
“Agent James Yona, reporting for duty, sir.” The Rush is fading, enough for me to deal with conversation again.
“At ease. I’m agent Tovar, this is Agent Vasquez. You all right?
“Looks that way. Were you expecting company?”