Dark Sanctuary

by H. B. Gregory

  Tony uttered a cry of astonishment as the great block of granite swung upwards, and darted forward eagerly, only to recoil as the foetid stench from the depths blew in his face.

  “What a ghastly smell!” he exclaimed, half choking.

  “No ventilation,” remarked Vaughan, “and perhaps — something else, eh, Gaunt?”

  The doctor nodded, and addressed Tony.

  “Are you game to go down with us?” he asked.

  Without a deal of enthusiasm Tony assured him that he was ready for anything. He followed readily enough, however, as Gaunt clambered over the side, and began to descend the steep stone steps within, shining his lamp cautiously before his feet. Vaughan brought up the rear.

  The steps, which, though not worn, were damp and slippery, led steeply down for some twenty feet, and were continued by a long corridor, cut in the solid rock. The air was very close and hot, but Tony thought the smell a little less unpleasant than at first, though he was perhaps merely growing more accustomed to it.

  The tunnel led them downwards, at a slight incline, for a short distance, then turned abruptly, ran level for a little way, and finally divided into three.

  At this point the party paused, uncertain which way to take, until Gaunt suggested that they should try the middle passage. After following this still downwards for a long distance they found their progress blocked by a wooden door, much decayed, and held together by rusted iron bands. There was a crude bar securing this, and a short struggle released it, whereupon the door opened unwillingly, with a nerve-shaking scream of rusty hinges, and they felt a breath of sweet salt air on their faces.

  Beyond the door another flight of steps led them still further downwards, until they became aware of a faint grey light ahead. The tunnel narrowed abruptly, and became so low that they were obliged to bend almost double, Vaughan puffing and wheezing with the effort. Thirty yards of this uncomfortable progress brought them to a natural cave. Gratefully standing upright on the sandy floor, they approached the opening, through which poured a flood of dazzling sunlight.

  Here was a narrow ledge, wet with spray from the waves, which were breaking only a couple of yards below. Outside the open sea stretched empty to the horizon. Tony judged that this must be the side of the island opposite to that upon which the harbour lay, at a point never approached by boat owing to the sheer cliffs and dangerous rocks.

  They stayed there in the sunlight for a while, watching the gulls and enjoying the fresh air, until Gaunt suggested that they should retrace their steps and try one of the other passages. Somewhat reluctantly Tony agreed, and the three made their way back into the close darkness, barring the ancient door behind them.

  When they reached the division of the ways once more Gaunt spun a coin, and chose the left-hand tunnel. This led steeply down into the very bowels of the island, twisting and turning bewilderingly. They passed the mouths of three other passages, and it occurred to Tony that this place must be a veritable honeycomb, and profoundly unpleasant to be lost in without a light. The floor was very uneven, and strewn with fallen rocks; and great patches of slime on the walls glistened in the torchlight. It seemed that they must actually be below sea-level when the passage turned sharply to the right, and they emerged into a great open space. Gaunt, who was still in front, stopped with a sharp cry of warning, and the others stood rooted in their tracks, Tony’s heart going like a trip-hammer. The doctor directed his torch downwards, and they could see the reason for his warning.

  He stood on the very edge of an abyss, for the ledge upon which the tunnel opened formed a rocky platform high up on the wall of a vast cavern, like the nave of some great cathedral. Further investigation revealed an irregular pathway leading down the wall to the floor of the place, at least a hundred feet below. This they descended carefully, and eventually stood on the level ground. The stench was appalling, and the air was very hot, but there was no sign of anything supernatural, though the profound silence seemed in itself a menace. Even Gaunt’s voice was hushed as he said:

  “This place cannot be other than natural — volcanic action, possibly, though the rocks are not igneous. No race we know of could have fashioned it.”

  He walked slowly out into the middle of the cavern floor, which was surprisingly smooth and regular. The others followed; and the three stood together, turning the beams of their torches first this way, then that. Powerful though the lamps were, their light only just reached the walls, and quite failed to penetrate the gloom overhead, where the mighty vault of the roof supported the hundreds of tons of rock above it. Under any circumstances it would have been an awe-inspiring place, but, seeking what they sought, the empty, echoing vastness was truly horrific. Tony fully expected some nightmare creature to come rushing out at them at any moment, but nothing stirred. There were no other entrances, no other caves opening out, no dark corners where anything could be hidden.

  “It must be here,” Vaughan whispered huskily, “but where?”

  All at once Tony realized that he was right: there was something here, something besides themselves, something not of this world. A dreadful sensation of being watched began to grow in his mind. Something monstrous and terribly powerful was aware of these intruders in its lair; soon it would strike. A feeling of gradually mounting tension, like that before the breaking of a thunderstorm, was piling up around them. The shadows grew deeper; the beams of the torches seemed to waver and grow dim. A breath of icy cold air, in frightful contrast to the prevailing heat, stirred Tony’s hair, and a faint shudder ran through the rock beneath their feet.

  “Come, we must get out of this!” Gaunt’s voice cut the silence like the crack of a whip. He began to run towards the foot of the pathway leading up to the tunnel from which they had come. Vaughan seized Tony by the arm and, half dragging the young man, followed him. By the time they reached the side of the cavern Tony had shaken off the lethargy which had seemed to dull his brain, and as hurriedly as was possible in safety the three clambered up to the ledge. Tony would have lingered there, but Gaunt and his colleague both caught his arms and rushed him up the passage.

  “We dare not stop another moment,” the doctor insisted as they went; “in a few more seconds it would have materialized; and to wait for that, unprotected as we are, would have been madness.”

  Tony himself failed to see what all the excitement was about, but he allowed that his companions knew more about these matters than he did, and he did not argue. As last they reached the steps leading up into the altar, and climbed out into the crypt above. Before he shut the pivoted slab Gaunt pointed to a curious design chiseled on the under side of the stone.

  “I don’t suppose it often leaves the great cave,” he said, “but if it did, that would prevent it getting any farther.”

  Tony peered at the interlaced triangles and shook his head.

  “It’s too deep for me,” he admitted.

  The doctor smiled.

  “You will understand one day,” he said.

  After dinner Tony asked what the next step would be, and Vaughan answered him:

  “The doctor and I will have to go down again, after taking suitable measures to protect ourselves. It is absolutely necessary that we see the thing in action before we can set about the task of destroying it. We do not yet know what form it takes when materialized, even. Later you will have to help us, but you will have to learn how to protect yourself also before you can do that. Gaunt will teach you, if you will only follow his instructions absolutely.”

  Tony assured him that he was only too eager to begin his studies; and shortly afterwards they retired for the night.

  While he was undressing it occurred to Tony how completely he had misjudged Vaughan when he had first met him that morning. The man was charming: his conversation brilliant, and his manners gentle. The gross exterior was soon forgotten in the light of his true personality. Telling himself not to be so hasty in future, the young man climbed into bed, blew out his candle, and soon fell asleep. His nerve-raking
experiences in the caves did not trouble him at all; in the new wisdom he was learning from Gaunt they appeared to be quite natural, and he felt wonderfully secure in the hands of his wise and experienced friend.

  The clock in the hall below was striking two when Gaunt’s door opened softly and the doctor passed silently down the gallery, disappearing into Vaughan’s room. Both were wearing felt-soled shoes when they emerged, and Gaunt was carrying his torch, but the light was unnecessary as they went down the staircase, for the moon was shining through the high, narrow windows of the hall. Beneath the staircase the moon did not penetrate, and the crypt was as black as ever when they reached it.

  Gaunt set his torch on the altar steps while his companion unlocked one of the trunks which had been carried down that afternoon. Out of the capacious interior he extracted two neatly folded white bundles, one of which he handed to the doctor. These proved to be long garments of linen, not unlike priests’ albs, which covered the wearers from neck to ankle, being girt about the middle with a scarlet cord. Round the hem of the skirt and the cuffs cabalistic symbols were embroidered in red silk. When they had attired themselves in these Vaughan went again to the trunk and took out various other articles, which he set upon the altar. There were two circlets of lead, curiously engraved; two metal rods, which glittered oddly in the dim light; and a glass vessel containing a dark liquid.

  “You performed the consecration properly?” Gaunt asked in a low voice. “Our lives depend upon it.” To which the other replied, his thick lips trembling:

  “Nothing has been forgotten. I know the danger. Now the ointment”; and, taking up the glass vessel, he proceeded to anoint the doctor’s head and hands, muttering some formula the while. When he had done Gaunt performed a like service for him, and returned the vessel to the trunk. Then they set the leaden circles on their heads and took the rods in their left hands.

  “We must leave the torch; we dare not show a light,” said Gaunt, as they lifted the altar-stone. Vaughan nodded silently, and they passed down the slippery steps, feeling their way in the thick darkness, and almost choking with the appalling smell, now far worse than it had been in the afternoon.

  It was slow going in the dark, and their clinging robes did not help them, but at last they reached the division of the ways. After some groping they found the left-hand tunnel, and continued cautiously along it. Suddenly Gaunt stopped, and caught his companion by the sleeve.

  “Do you hear it?” he whispered.

  Vaughan listened, shivering slightly. From the pitchy blackness in front came a low breathing sound, something like the wind, but more regular. A long, slow breathing, like a great animal asleep.

  Even more cautiously than before the two crept forward, hugging the rough wall on their right. Once they crossed the mouth of a side tunnel, and had to stumble unaided for a few feet. Their felt shoes were saturated with the slime underfoot, and made little squelching sounds as they walked. The heat grew intense, and great drops of sweat trickled from beneath the lead bands on their foreheads. Their lungs laboured in the foul air.

  The breathing sound in front stopped. Gaunt’s fingers tightened on his colleague’s arm as they stood still, waiting. A slight vibration ran through the rock beneath.

  “It is awake,” the doctor whispered, his tongue rustling like paper in his dry mouth. Vaughan’s great body was quivering like a jelly, but he strove manfully to remain calm. Silently they pressed forward once more.

  Presently they became aware of a faint greenish glow in the darkness ahead, and almost before they knew it they were at the bend of the passage. Here Vaughan’s courage well-nigh failed him altogether, and he would have fallen but for Gaunt’s arm. The doctor turned upon him fiercely.

  “Have you forgotten the oath?” he whispered hoarsely. “Shall it be said that only they have courage?”; and, dragging his unwilling companion, he turned the corner, and they came out upon the ledge in the great cavern.

  It was very different from when they had last looked upon it. Now the whole vast space was permeated by a strange green radiance, which appeared to emanate from the rock of the floor far below. The walls around, the domed roof above, were plainly visible; and the strangely attired pair on the ledge could see each other clearly in the weird light. A monstrous silence pressed like an invisible cloud upon their heads, and waves of almost intolerable heat beat upon their pallid faces. The stench was abominable.

  Vaughan found words.

  “Where — where is it?” he gulped.

  Gaunt pointed downwards with the rod in his hand, and the other peered fearfully over the brink. Then he too saw.

  The whole rocky floor, acres in extent, was in motion. Ever so slight it was, like the stirring of molten metal, the heaving of that seemingly solid surface, but horrible in a way that nothing else could be, so contrary was it to the laws which hold this world together. From it beat the pale-green light; and to and fro over the surface thin vapours came and went.

  Vaughan stared at the appalling sight in silence for some minutes, his eyes protruding from their sockets, so fascinated that even the trembling of his limbs was stilled. Then, as they watched, the movement ceased, except for one spot at the centre, where the solid rock began to belly upwards in a mound, like a great tumour. It reached a height of perhaps ten feet before its summit fissured, and from the crack a black substance came welling out, flowing down on to the floor around in an inky pool. At the same instant the frightful heat lessened and passed away, to be replaced by a wave of unearthly cold, which froze the sweat upon the livid faces of the watchers on the ledge.

  As the black liquid oozed on to the floor of the cave, so it thickened into a jelly-like substance, not spreading out, but piling up into a solid mass, which quivered and writhed incessantly with horrid life. Suddenly Vaughan, who had begun to shudder violently once more, buried his face in Gaunt’s linen sleeve, shutting out the sight he could no longer endure. The doctor shook him off angrily, saying:

  “Be still, you fool! It knows you are afraid. Look!”

  For the unholy thing below was flowing across the rocky floor towards the wall of the cavern upon which they were perched. It was without form, and changed its shape continually as it moved, but that it was sentient was undeniable, and Vaughan had a vivid impression of a Personality, veiled in the darkness of its substance, which silently mocked the two feeble human creatures opposed to it.

  In a moment the great bulk of the thing was massed at the foot of the cliff beneath; then it began to climb, flowing up the rock as easily as it had crossed the level floor. Vaughan uttered a strangled cry, like a stricken animal, and, turning, fled up the tunnel behind them. Gaunt hesitated for a second, then let him go, with a muttered oath, and, stepping to the very brink, coolly faced the abomination crawling up towards him. As it came he felt the icy cold which emanated from it freezing his very limbs, but his hand was perfectly steady as he pointed the metal rod he held downwards at it. Concentrating his will to the uttermost, he began to recite certain ritual words in a firm voice, softly at first, then more loudly, until the tremendous Latin echoed round the great dome above.

  The effect was immediate. The thing ceased its upward movement and stopped, clinging to the face of the wall like a gigantic limpet. It had no visible eyes, but the doctor could feel its cold regard searing into his brain, and it was only by a mighty effort that he was able to withstand the frightful power which beat against him. Even now he knew he could not hold it off indefinitely, and so, still chanting in a high, clear voice, he began to walk slowly backwards up the passage. It was slow, painful progress, for he had only one hand free to feel his way along the wall, and after he had gone fifty paces in this fashion, since the thing did not appear to be following him, he reverted to the usual method of progression, and in due course reached the steps leading up to the crypt. By this time the reaction had set in, and even his iron will could not entirely still the trembling of his knees as he climbed.

  When he had closed the alta
r he looked round for Vaughan. An electric torch lay burning on the floor, and by its dim light he could see his colleague’s figure, crouched grotesquely on the steps, his face hidden in his hands. He was sobbing brokenly, and muttering beneath his breath. As he strode towards him Gaunt caught the words: “Jesu! Mary!” With an exclamation of disgust he launched a kick at the prostrate form, and Vaughan rolled over, covering his face with his hands and moaning piteously.

  “Judas!” hissed the doctor. “Is this a time to turn your coat again?”

  The other writhed towards him, pawing at his feet.

  “Mercy, master, mercy!” he moaned.

  “Why should I show you mercy?” the doctor went on with withering contempt. “But for me you would not have got ten yards along that passage. And if it had caught you — you know what the end would have been? You would have been lost for ever. I could well have spared you, though your cowardice nearly ruined everything. It was all I could do to hold it back alone; you put my soul in jeopardy. Well, I can forgive that; but almost to wreck our plans — that I find hard to overlook.”

  “Forgive me, master! I will not fail again, I swear. I had never seen anything like that before, and it unnerved me utterly. You — you trembled too.”

  “My poor mortal flesh may have quaked, but my soul was unafraid. Yours was — that is the difference. Very well, Simon, I will forgive you this time, but not again.”

  “Oh, master! There shall be no more turning back.” Vaughan rose on his knees. “I will say the Mass tomorrow.”

  “If it comforts you, do so. You have the accessories here? I will serve you.”

  “That is an honour, master, which I shall not forget.”

  “Very well. Now get up and compose yourself. Take off those things, and join me in a cigarette.”

  When they had removed their vestments, and were sitting smoking on the altar steps, Vaughan asked:

  “Did it follow you?”

  The doctor shook his head.

  “I don’t think it often leaves the great cavern. As it was, our visit woke it to quite unusual activity. I imagine that it generally lies dormant.”