Weird Shadows Over Innsmouth

Kent declined his friend’s invitation to tea. When he left the mill house he was a very troubled man.

VII

From Roberts’ Personal Diary.

Is Kent right and that I am becoming over-imaginative in being alone so long in this huge house?

Or am I going mad? God forbid. But these events, though somewhat intangible, are nevertheless real in the still of the night. Still of the night? I use the term loosely for, goodness only knows, the house is never silent. The creaking of the beams, the furtive movements as though there are muffled footfalls in various rooms, and the distant trickle of water. For in truth one can hear the stream quite clearly, especially at night as we sleep with the windows open in this current hot weather. And the voices! Dear God, the voices! For these insistent whispers in my ears seem to say: Come to us! The water is beautifully clear and cool. Stay with us in the rippling embrace of the flow, which has existed throughout all eternity. Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn!

I put my pillow over my ears, but the voices still continue, which proves that they are inside my head. Sweet Jesus, where will it all end? We could leave this place, but I am convinced these cursed voices would still continue to plague me. For I have heard them when staying in my London hotel. This agony cannot continue much longer...

VIII

For a fortnight Roberts worked furiously on a new painting, and his labours completely absorbed him for his dread fantasies seemed to fade away. He was more cheerful altogether when he met Kent for lunch at The Three Horseshoes, which was a great relief to his old friend.

In addition, Gilda had rung several times, once from Chicago and on another occasion from Washington. She was making the rounds of private art galleries and dealers and the prospects were extremely good.

Mrs Summers had also noted the change in her employer and was greatly relieved when Kent ran across her in the village one afternoon.

Kent had a book launch in London the following day, so he was not present when certain events unfolded. He stayed on for three more days with his fiancée and her family in St. John’s Wood.

The night he arrived back in the village it was quite late so he did not call on Roberts. Not that it would have made any difference to the outcome. Roberts had been in a good mood that brilliantly sunny day and had even attended a cricket match on the village green. But after dinner he felt some of the old malaise creeping over him. The housekeeper had long gone home and he could not settle to his accounts in the study.

It was a bright, clear night with the moon riding high, and he had the windows open to the faint breeze. Then suddenly, without warning, he felt the same insidious voices in his ears. Come to us! There is deep peace below. You are one of us and we are reclaiming you! It is good and peaceful where we are. We have slept for countless aeons and now we are gathering strength. Come down and be at peace for all time... Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn!

Roberts felt cold sweat pouring down his cheeks, despite the heat of the night, and although he clapped his hands over his ears the persistent coaxing went on as though inside his head.

Mechanically and blindly Roberts found himself descending to the ground floor, walking like a drunken man. Then he found himself in the studio and the insistent susurration of the water had now assumed a more soothing aspect. The voices in his head went on, caressingly, insistently, as though a lover was welcoming a long-awaited partner.

Roberts sank to his knees on the heavy wooden floor, found his hands operating the windlass. The hatch opened silently and then he was gazing down into the dark stream, which seemed to fascinate him.

Come! Eternal life awaits! Iä-R’lyeh! Cthulhu fhtagn! Iä! Iä! The words rose to a crescendo, and then it happened.

The darkness of the water parted and something white and obscene floated to the surface. Roberts found himself staring into a loathsome visage, neither human nor fish. A pair of large unblinking eyes glistened in the dim light as the thing surveyed him with an alien stare. Its huge slit mouth lined with jagged green teeth opened in an obscene smile. Then two webbed claws reached up and plucked him effortlessly down into oblivion. The water boiled white and Roberts let out scream after scream as the torrent turned briefly scarlet and the surge swept him under.

IX