by Rick Dakan
All the outrage had one solid effect — it was now impossible to find a copy of the Cthulhu Manifesto at any of the locations where it had once been. Places like the used-CD stores and comic book shop and most of the coffee shops withdrew them because they didn’t want the negative attention. The few other places like the head shops and the funky indie T-shirt place out on Siesta Key couldn’t keep them in stock because interest was so high that people would snatch them up whenever they could find them. As far as controversies go, it was still simmering on the back burner at this point. The Garrances didn’t get another mention in the paper or on TV that week, and there were no more reports of the manifesto turning up in schools. Either the kids were too smart to get caught or, more likely, they didn’t care.
Late on the night of April sixteenth, I got an e-mail from an address I didn’t recognize with a ZIP file attached. My natural instinct was to delete it at once, but the subject line claimed to be from Conrad, so I read the body of the text without opening the attachment:
Rick,
I’m not using my normal e-mail and phone anymore, just to be safe. They can be monitored. But I’ve attached a recording I secretly made of a conversation I had the other night with Ash. I’ve listened to it over and over again and I need your opinion on it. Are you hearing what I’m hearing? Don’t reply to this e-mail. Meet me tomorrow afternoon at our old usual lunch place and we’ll talk.
-Conrad
Conrad was starting to sound a little paranoid at this point. Whatever Shelby was, he wasn’t a hacker of any stripe, white hat or black hat, and I seriously doubted he was intercepting phone calls and e-mails. Although on reflection I realized that I had no idea what kind of skill set his followers might possess, so maybe there was real cause for concern. Maybe. I downloaded and unzipped the file and hit play.
The recording was scratchy and hard to hear at first, but the quality picked up a little about five minutes into it. Later, after I had listened to it over and over again, I decided to type out a transcript of the whole conversation so I could really look at what was being said without being distracted by the horrible audio quality. Conrad later read over this transcript, which I reproduce below, and agreed that it coincided perfectly with his memory. The first voice is undeniably Conrad’s. The second voice belongs to Ash, something I couldn’t be sure of at the time, but have since confirmed.
CONRAD: Thanks for coming.
ASH: Are you sure …
CONRAD: Yeah, yeah, of course. I checked.
ASH:
CONRAD: So what did you want to tell me?
ASH: If I tell you, can you help me out?
CONRAD: I said I would. I will.
ASH: Because I don’t know how well you know Shelby…
CONRAD: I’ve known him since we were kids.
ASH: OK. All right. But that don’t mean you know him NOW. Now he’s different.
CONRAD: Different how? You didn’t know him before, did you?
ASH: He’s different from everybody, man. He’s fucked up different. He’s…
CONRAD: I know, I know. That’s why I wanted to talk. So let’s talk. What’s going on?
ASH:
CONRAD: Yes, I said I would and I will. You’ll be fine. But I need you to tell me what’s going on in that compound.
ASH:
CONRAD: It won’t.
ASH: It better not. Because if it does then I’m out of here. For good. As in no coming back. A goner.
CONRAD: I realize that, and I appreciate you being here at all.
ASH: I don’t think…
CONRAD: I swear, no one will ever know.
ASH:
CONRAD: OK?
ASH: Yeah.
CONRAD: OK. So tell me what happened.
ASH: Listen can we sit down and get a drink first? Over there maybe?
CONRAD: Yeah, all right. No problem.
The recording cuts here and resumes, presumably after they’ve had that drink. They seem to be in a bar or restaurant now, judging from the background noise (something Conrad later confirmed for me). The recording starts up again with the conversation under way.
ASH: That’s the thing about it all. About Shelby. You never know where you stand with him. With him or with Kym. They’re so damned secretive and so… what’s the word? Hard to read. Inscrutable. You just never know what they’re thinking.
CONRAD: So what happened?
ASH: It’s all about the book. The pages from the book, the Necronomicon. That’s what everyone over at the compound is obsessing about. Who gets to see them. Who gets to read the translations. Who gets to try the rituals. Shelby and Kym dole these opportunities out to their favorites, leading us all on. And for a while I was one of those, you know?
CONRAD: How many pages are there?
ASH: Sixty-four, or that’s what we’re told. No one’s seen all of them in one place. Shelby keeps them locked away in the vault in his chambers. Some we take out more than others, you know? Those are the public ones. For what Shelby calls his road show. He takes those to the house parties. He and Kym.
CONRAD: How many of those has he done? The house parties I mean.
ASH: I’m not sure. Between him and Kym it’s gotta be more than twenty. They’ve both had one almost every night since the manifestos came out. All the way up through Tampa and down to Naples and even one over in Orlando. There’s talk of a Miami trip, but that might be just a rumor.
CONRAD: And what happens at these house parties?
ASH: Well, there are two parts. There’s the more public part, which is pretty much always like what you saw, with Kym or Shelby doing the mind fuck drug thing. Those are always a hit. But it’s before that where the real action happens. With the hosts and maybe a few close friends. These are the people they’re reaching out for and trying to, you know, suck in. Join the inner circle. Be part of the fucking band.
CONRAD: How?
ASH: Each person’s different. They do their research and have already talked to these people to see what they’re looking for. Then Shelby gives it to them. If they’re looking for ancient wisdom and enlightenment, Shelby offers that. If they’re looking for a great, crazy party, he sells them on that part of things. If they’re just looking for weird sex stuff, that’s his angle. Most are just looking for some way to tweak religion or piss off their parents or their repressive communities. We’ve got plenty for them. We got it all.
CONRAD: OK, but why? Why’s he sucking these people in?
ASH: No fucking clue, man. I got no fucking clue. Like I said, who can read him? Who can say if he’s even sane anymore?
CONRAD: Sane? What do you mean?
ASH: I mean normal people don’t act like that. Even weird fuckers don’t act like that, OK? He’s always on. Always fronting this Cthulhu stuff. Him and Kym both, they’re not playing a part. They’re in it.
CONRAD: But is it real?
ASH: Is what real? Are you asking me if they’re acting? Hell no. No one’s that good an actor. Not all the time, 24/7. They’re for real. As for what they’re for real about, at first I woulda said no way, it’s all a fucking show. That’s why I joined, right? To help with that first crazy art show, you know? That was what hooked me. But now…
CONRAD: Now what?
ASH: Now I don’t know what’s going on. I have no idea what’s for sure for real.
CONRAD: Why?
ASH: I’ve seen weird shit. A lot more of it since that night I helped you out with being sick and all that. Since then, when the house parties really got going, that’s when things have gotten strange.
CONRAD: Like what?
ASH: Well, I don’t know it all for sure right? Even though I’ve been around them as long as anybody, I’m kind of on the outs right now. It’s weird. No, it’s not weird, it’s probably fucking typical, but Shelby’s teaching this crazy, we’re all doomed, fuck autho
rity line, but God forbid you actually break one of his fucking rules. No way is that going to fly. So I tried to do a few things my own way and now I’m in the doghouse for a while. That’s why I was out guarding the van that night instead of Ilan, whose job it totally should have been. But it’s not like they’re gonna kick me out either, because I’m one of the few people who actually gets shit done around there, especially when it comes to cleaning and cooking and stuff. So I stick around because it’s still a ton of fun. The other people are really cool, mostly anyway. But I don’t know, man, the weird shit is starting to get too Goddamn weird for me.
CONRAD: What kind of weird stuff?
ASH: It’s all little stuff mostly, but it adds up you know? Like the deliveries that come in the middle of the night. There’ll be a car the shows up late at night, usually like three or four in the morning. And we gotta open the gate and let them in and shit. And it’s never the same dudes twice, and they never speak English. It’s always some language like Greek or Russian. I don’t know what it is. But they unload these boxes. Big, heavy-ass–looking wooden crates mind you, not, like, cardboard boxes or something. They load them up into the concrete storage building we built or sometimes the smaller ones go into Shelby’s rooms. No one ever says what they are and the delivery weirdos never stick around more than ten, fifteen minutes.
CONRAD: What’s in the boxes?
ASH: No idea. I tried to get a look in one once, right? I mean, I used to have a key to the storage shed, so I went in to get something else and some of those crates were there. I tried to open one but it was nailed shut tight. It smelled, though. Smelled like something rotten was inside. Just a whiff of rot if you got your nose up close, like maybe it was sealed up but not quite all the way.
CONRAD: And they never opened them?
ASH: I asked Shelby ‘bout them once and he just said they were for later. For a special occasion or something. And he smiled that creepy-ass smile of his.
CONRAD: What else?
ASH: There’s the main ritual space. The converted garage area, by the lake, you know? There’s that. I mean, we’re in there all the time practicing rituals or just dancing or partying or whatever. A few times a week we’re in there. But the rest of the time it’s all locked up tight, and even I never had keys to that. Just Shelby and Kym and now I guess that bitch Cara has a key.
CONRAD: Cara?
ASH: Yeah, she’s the new teacher’s pet, for sure. I guess she and Shelby go way back or something. But she’s a total narc, always running to Shelby with any little complaint or whatever. Anyway, she’s got the keys to the garage too. Sorry, the “temple.” That’s what Shelby makes us call it.
CONRAD: And what goes on there? In this temple.
ASH: Well, mostly that’s where the fun stuff happens. The parties, the sex. The good stuff. It’s pretty cool in there now that we’ve got it all decked out. But Shelby and Kym, they do other things in there. Things most of us don’t get to see. Some really secret things no one but them ever sees.
CONRAD: What kinds of things? Come on, I need specifics, Ash, please.
ASH: Well I don’t know any fucking specifics, do I? I said they were secret. I know there are loud, strange noises. There’s that damned weird pipe music a lot of the time, especially late at night. Especially when it’s cloudy or there’s no moon. And I’ve gone in there in the morning to find the whole place stinking like burned hair and maybe something worse. And once they closed it down for three days while they replaced the floor and burned the old wood that was there. Not that it was actually old — I’d helped install it myself a few weeks before that.
CONRAD: So they’re doing rituals of some kind?
ASH: Of some kind, yeah. It’s hard to say. Their room has the only direct door from inside the house to the temple. The rest of us have to come in through the outside door, which is usually locked. But yeah, rituals — candles, sigils on the floor, even sacrifices. The whole nine yards.
CONRAD: Sacrifices? As in killing animals?
ASH: Well, not that I’ve seen in person. But I know I’ve seen blood on the floor. And I know we’ve had barbecues where we roasted whole goats. They would never do that where the newbies or the squeamish would see it. They never do the real shit where we can see it. But we all know what’s really going on. Plus…
CONRAD: What?
ASH: I don’t know this for sure. I wasn’t there, OK? This is just something I heard. And it was asking about it that got me into trouble.
CONRAD: Asking about what?
ASH: This is strictly between us. Strictly.
CONRAD: Of course, what is it?
ASH: There was this guy. An older guy. Homeless. Sometimes we donate food to homeless shelters, you know? And stuff to Goodwill. Once or twice, like when we were laying the concrete for the bunkhouse and the storage shed, we hired some of them to help with the work. Well the thing is, one of those guys Shelby brought in to work, no one remembers him ever leaving.
CONRAD: No one remembers?
ASH: I mean, it’s hard to get in and out of there without being seen — there’s just the one gate and there are cameras.
CONRAD: Cameras? Jesus…
ASH: And no one remembers this old guy leaving. He was working and then he went into the house for some reason, like maybe heat stroke or something, from the work. And when the rest of them were taken back downtown to the shelter, this guy wasn’t with him. And that night the temple was off limits, and all the next day they were doing some big ritual in there. Lots of noise, lots of weird sounds. And it was the day after that that we had to replace the floors. That was when I got back, for that part.
CONRAD: You think… ?
ASH: I don’t know what to think. I don’t fucking know. I’m just telling you what we saw happen. There could be other explanations…
CONRAD: Or they could have sacrificed him.
ASH: I’m not saying that they did.
CONRAD: But they could have.
ASH: I guess so. Fuck. Yeah, I guess they maybe could have.
The file ended here, cutting off abruptly. I listened to it again from the beginning, and then one more time before I called Conrad and left him a message telling him I needed to see him right now. But I didn’t hear back from him, so I listened to it one more time, and I still didn’t know what to think of it. Ash’s description of what Shelby had been up to was simultaneously shocking and, on some level, exactly what I suspected. Or maybe what I’d feared but never wanted to admit. Part of me wanted to believe that the Cthulhu compound was just a bigger, better version of the college party house Shelby had lived in at Indian Point Drive for so long — a place where college kids, hippies, and other fringe types could crash, smoke a little dope, and have a good time, but with some kind of performance art twist. But Ash was describing a real cult, with Kym and Shelby set up as the leaders, aloof and commanding and mysterious. From what I’d read online, it was a textbook case. Also, Ash had crucially confirmed that the pages were in fact from the Necronomicon, or at least that’s what Shelby and Kym were claiming. That added even more credence to our theories.
And then there was Ash’s mention of Cara and the fact that she was now high up in the cult hierarchy. I knew she’d become fully entranced with the cult, but I didn’t know that she held such a high position within it. If that was the case, I wondered if it was even possible anymore to save her from Shelby and Kym. As for the other issue, the sacrifices, I still didn’t know what to think about that, other than just flat out refusing to believe that Shelby had actually sacrificed a homeless man to Cthulhu. It just wasn’t possible.
I met with Conrad at our “old usual” lunch place — what was Zach’s Deli when we were in high school but which is now a much better Middle Eastern restaurant run by the same family. I ordered some falafel and hummus and a spinach pie and waited for Conrad. He showed up late and looking exhausted. Although he was dressed for work, his clothes were wrinkled and his tie askew. “You look like shit,” I said t
o him as he sat down.
“Did you listen to the recording I sent you?” he asked, his eyes locking with mine.
“Yeah, I did. How did you arrange that?”
“I managed to run into Ash away from the compound. I figured he let me bribe him once, so… Well, he was willing to talk again.”
“How much did that cost?”
“It doesn’t matter. The important thing is what he said. And what he said is awful.”
“It’s certainly weird. And yeah, maybe a little bit awful. But what do we do?”
“A little bit awful!” Conrad exclaimed, causing me to look around and see if anyone else in the half-full restaurant was watching us.
“Shhh! Conrad, come on… ”
“A little bit awful?” Conrad repeated, his voice little more than a whisper as he leaned forward. His breath was stale and funky. “They sacrificed someone for God’s sake.”
“We don’t know that,” I hissed back. “Ash didn’t say that. Anything could have happened with that guy.”
“You weren’t there. He may not have said it on the tape, but I was with him when he said it. His eyes, his body language, they both made it clear what he really thought happened.”
“Then we should go to the police,” I said, still not quite convinced but definitely a lot more worried.
“I tried,” Conrad said, to my surprise. “But they won’t take my word for it, and Ash is nowhere to be found. I played them the same tape, but they said that it wasn’t admissible and needed to hear directly from him. Besides, they’re not worried about Shelby at all. They think it’s all in good fun or some shit. I wouldn’t be surprised if he got to them somehow.”
