Weird Shadows Over Innsmouth

A map was spread out on the table and he motioned me forward. “This is the road from Arkham.” He traced the outline with his forefinger. “As you see, it enters Innsmouth along Federal Street and continues all the way to the town centre. That’s the route we’ll take. At the same time, a second force, including the Marine Corps, will enter from the west, while others will go ashore and come in through tunnels which were used for smuggling in the old days.”

“And if some of the inhabitants try to escape by boat?” I asked.

He gave a grim smile. “We’ve taken that possibility into account. Three ships will be patrolling the shoreline. They’ll take care of anyone attempting to get away by boat.”

Leaning forward, he stabbed a finger at the map. “One other thing. There may be no truth in this but we do know there’s been a lot of activity here, near Devil Reef. For more than a century, contraband has been landed on this reef. It’s a dangerous place for vessels but apparently the old sea-captains brought natives and other illegal goods there before ferrying them ashore. More importantly as far as we’re concerned, there’s a two-thousand-foot drop there down to the ocean floor.”

He paused, as if for dramatic effect. Personally, I couldn’t see what he was getting at.

“I don’t believe half of this myself,” he continued, almost apologetically, “but from scraps of information we’ve gathered from a couple of Federal agents who did return from Innsmouth, there’s talk in that town of some sunken remains on the seabed in that region.”

“What sort of remains?” asked one of the officers.

Fenton looked across at me. “You’ve read the file which was given you some weeks ago. You’ll know that every Christian religion has been outlawed in Innsmouth. Everybody there belongs to this weird cult, the Esoteric Order of Dagon. They actually worship this god and believe a sunken city lies at the bottom of the sea, just off the reef. A city they call Y’ha-nthlei, where this Dagon lives.”

“Surely you don’t believe that, sir,” said the officer.

“I only believe what I can see, Lieutenant. Nevertheless, someone in the government seems to take it all seriously. A submarine has been ordered to dive down towards the sea bottom and take a look. If there is anything there, they have enough torpedoes on board to blast it to Hell and back.”

* * *

Two days later, I was in a convoy of ten Army trucks approaching the outskirts of Innsmouth. It was now dark and the vehicle moved without any lights showing. Each of us had received specific orders before we set out. We would stop at the end of Federal Street and from there proceed to the building which housed the Esoteric Order of Dagon, where half of our force would then move off to occupy the Marsh mansion on Washington Street.

Reaching the end of Federal Street, we disembarked. A few dim streetlights shone along its length but nothing showed in any of the once-grand Colonial buildings as we passed, moving from one shadowed doorway to the next. Within five minutes we were within sight of our objective. The building stood facing an open space covered in rough grass. It boasted several massive pillars with the name still visible above the pediment. Its original use as the Masonic Temple still showed where the set square and pair of compasses of that Order, although partially obliterated by time, were still visible.

Sending twenty men to watch the rear of the building, Major Fenton led the rest of us towards the front door. Not bothering to check whether or not it was locked, he gave the order to smash it down. The rusted hinges yielded readily and, switching on our torches, we rushed inside. A sharp, fishy stench met us, catching horribly at the back of my throat.

In the torchlight we saw that the large lower room was empty apart from a long table flanked by two high-backed chairs.

Then, without warning, a door at the far end of the room suddenly burst open and a horde of dark figures poured into the room. For a moment, I stood absolutely still, abruptly shocked by what the wavering torchlight revealed. I had expected the citizens of this town to offer some resistance to our invasion, but this was something neither I, nor any of the others, had been prepared for.

Only their apparel was normal. They moved forward with a hideous hopping, slithering gait and there was something bordering on the ichthyic, or batrachian, about their leering features. Huge, bulging eyes glared unwinkingly at us from beneath sloping foreheads. Their skin, what little we could see of it, appeared scaled and the wide mouths reminded me of frogs. I think we had all anticipated finding some signs of degeneracy among these folk, but nothing like this.

How such monstrosities had come into being, I was unable to guess. Certainly, the tales of mixed breeding with another race seemed to have some basis in fact.