by G R Jordan
“And that’s when Simmons came into the picture. I used to work with him in the business, and he put a lot of clients my way. So I told him my little dilemma, and he thought he was being wise. He knew I wasn’t really in the zone and probably couldn’t handle a full-on protection job. But he had this guy who wanted looking after. Simmons says the guy’s a bit weird, but is paying well and will probably not be involved in anything hot. Just a little jaunt to let off some steam. And it’s in America, so I can get clear for a bit and stretch my wings.
“Alana was pretty pissed at me, as you can imagine, but I reckon she understood what I needed to do, even if she didn’t like it. And two weeks later, I was flying business class over to New England and off to a place called Arkham in Massachusetts.
“The man in question—no actually, bollocks to that. The lunatic in question was Professor Austerley of Miskatonic University, based in Arkham. I can still remember meeting him at the airport. He had insisted on coming to collect me himself, even though I had said I would pick up a hire car.
The weather was blistering hot, especially for someone like myself used to a wet, west coast of Britain climate. I had my cap on and a light shirt with my jeans and trainers. But this clown is there in heavy corduroy trousers, a Grateful Dead t-shirt and a Parka jacket. Bloody big, black Doc Martin boots too. And he was sweating like a pig. I honestly thought at first he was a tramp. And I said to myself, ‘Flaming Americans, such a mess of a country’. No offence, Officer.
“Then he spoke: East coast of Scotland. Very soft accent. One of our own, I couldn’t believe it. And his first words too. ‘How much weaponry do you carry?’ What is that? I’m a professional and he just comes out with that in public. It was obvious from the start he was a rank amateur.
“So I said to him, ‘Mr. Austerley, we generally talk about work details in private,’ and I suggested we go to his office. All I got was a grunt and he walked off, leaving me to grab my stuff and follow. We walked to the car park, and I saw some quite modest but reliable cars, and my opinion of him improved briefly. But he stepped round these and got into a right rust bucket. Didn’t help that as I sat in the passenger seat, he lets go a right humdinger. Sorry, that’s breaking wind for you yanks. You know, a fart. Smelly bugger. And then he gives it total silence all the way back to his university.
“Now the university is something else. You drive in the gates to the professor’s car park and it smacks of old time New England. I’m no expert, but there’s those big sash windows and ornate ends at the roof tops. Really old school feeling. And I mention this to him, all about it. Do you know what he says back? Philistine, just Philistine. Stuck-up arse. But I’m a professional, so I just let it go. After all, he’s paying.
“We walked up big wooden staircases, all the way to the top of the wing we are in. Right at the top was his office. Now, it was a total mess. Books everywhere. Mainly very old ones and lots of languages I didn’t understand. There’s a photo of what I believed to be of some place in Russia. People were all wearing those furry hats—you know the kind—and I think I saw the Kremlin in the background. Some woman on his arm, too.
“We hadn’t even sat down when this woman charged into his office and grabbed a book off his desk. He shouted at her but she cut him a look that would have brought down a horse.
“She tells him: ’This, Professor Austerley, is a reference only book. More than that, it is from the special section, the locked away section for those books that shouldn’t be in free circulation. You should understand that with your job. Kindly refrain from this dangerous activity. I shall be speaking to the Dean again.’
“And with that, she whirled her way back out of the crowded office with the volume in question. I remember she was small but had such fiery eyes behind solid round glasses. Kind of woman that takes no crap.
“Austerley just snorted back at her and told me to sit down. He threw down a map and began to explain his plan.”
Miskatonic University
“To be honest, the next hour was full of dry talk about his research. Don’t get me wrong, he was passionate enough, but I was bored. Austerley would talk about a man named Carter, in whose footsteps he was following. Apparently, the man had been on a search for truth and had found a dark and depressing answer. Coupled with this, the man had supposedly jumped into clocks, travelled to the moon with various cats, conversed with creatures of a shadow world, and bizarrely, this was to be our starting point, waiting atop a New England grave for a friend of his that hadn’t returned from a visit underground.
“You’re laughing, and I did too. Absolute nut job, I thought. But hey, he was paying the money, and you don’t freak out the client. The excursion to the grave was to be in two night’s time, and at least I would get a decent night’s sleep before we started. I asked what kind of resistance we could meet in our underground trip. Not expecting to have to do much, I found his response weird. Carter’s friend, a Mr. Warren who had been lost in their expedition, was believed to have encountered creatures from older times. Possibly from outer space, these beings could converse with us but were extremely lethal. Austerley suggested an arsenal that would have made me look like a Hollywood front man on speed. I thought him crazy and decided on a minimal compliment. I wish I had taken his advice. Understand, Austerley is insane in that he searches out these things, but he knows them well. Damn him, he was right.
“We adjourned, and he muttered something about lunch but I made my excuses, collecting my arsenal, and decided to relax at my hotel. Time for some freedom. As I passed down the halls of Miskatonic University, I was stopped by one of the professors, Kenton—Ancient Literature, I think he said. He enquired whether I was going on Austerley’s graveyard shift to which I gave a non-committal response. That’s a standard reaction to someone talking about a client’s business. But the man laughed, talking about the great circus act, making out we would be going in the clown car. He wasn’t funny, but I did get the point. Non-plussed, I continued my exit before I was accosted by three men in suits.
“One introduced himself as the Chancellor of the university and asked me to accompany them to a nearby room. Once inside a wooden panelled library, I was offered a seat and asked if I was intending to accompany Prof. Austerley on his expedition. The tone was serious, too serious. I, again, became non-committal on the subject, but the men’s faces were grim. I sat for the next half hour listening to their worries about Austerley’s actions. They stated he was delving into things that should be kept hidden. Things that could change the world as we knew it, and things which we could not influence.
“Everything was mumbo-jumbo to me. I didn’t understand half of the terms they used and their great anger at Austerley reading ‘the book’, whatever novel that was. They talked about expeditions to the South Pole that had been hushed up, kept from the public because the events were too horrifying to state. I was subjected to a list of New England phenomena in towns I don’t even know, all showing a trend that these beings were possibly coming again—or possibly already here and active. But I was tired and told them I wished to take my leave. The Dean grabbed my arm and looked me straight in the eye.
“He said, ‘Alright, Kirkgordon, be a fool if you must. But whatever you do, don’t let these things out, don’t show them the surface. And don’t dwell on what you find, or they will become the inhabitants of your mind, and life will become a dark, meaningless void, occupied by every horror you can conceive. Stay away!’
“I got the feeling there was maybe a bit more to this business than I suspected. Maybe one of the other professors would interrupt our journey. A feud over academic prowess, or a spat about the size of their journals. Who knew? But it didn’t scare me. These guys were light-weight compared to some of the things I had dealt with before. But I decided to increase my weapons itinerary in case some hired help intervened. Nothing severe, just precautionary. Best decision I have ever made in my life. If I hadn’t, I’d be dead, Austerley would be dead, and New England would have
the depths of hell to deal with.
“I know it sounds crazy, and I wouldn’t believe it either. Except I was there, and I have seen these things. Damn Austerley for his curiosity. When I was in the room last night, I thought I saw them coming, with their arms, hands and the other stuff. Appendages. At times arms like an octopus, sometimes insect legs, feelers, all manner of things, but as large as ourselves. And the eyes. I didn’t sleep last night. Your Sergeant must have said it. Even the sedation didn’t work. Nothing can. Nothing keeps those faces away. Dear God, I hope it worked. I hope we stopped them.”
A Little Night Excursion
“We met up at a roadside café, just off the Gainsborough Pike. Austerley seemed kind of nervous, but I was hungry as it was 2am and I hadn’t eaten since eight. So we sat for maybe half an hour. I demolished three eggs, bacon, and some fries whilst Austerley joined me on chewing some Java. Tell me something, Officer. Who in their right mind makes their coffee as thick as you guys do? I mean, really. Java’s bitter enough. Though, to be fair, it was better than the nonsense in this plastic cup in front of me right now.
“So we got into the car and headed off down the Pike road, taking a few turns where Austerley pointed until we came across a graveyard. 3am, and it’s pitch black. You could barely see a thing but at least it was warm. Very warm. I was sweating as I donned my black garb, secured my pistols, flash-bangs and grenades. But Austerley, he’s there in the combat trousers and boats, big coat and t-shirt underneath. You’ve never seen a man sweat so much. And his equipment. It was just bizarre.
“He had a couple of books, large weighty tomes with all the backing peeling off. A little rucksack which he unpacked and repacked with all sorts of chemicals and test-tubes. And then there was all the little knick-knacks. Apparently, all of them had some sort of protective powers in case we ran into the same things as Warren had encountered.
“That’s when I asked him what he thought he was doing. He looked at me as if I was the lunatic. I told him straight, ‘All you go on about is the danger form these space beasts and how Warren wasn’t prepared and died. How Carter ran a mile afterwards and then went off to the moon with cats and had all sorts of other messy encounters. Everything you talk about is bleak, unholy, and just plain bad. So why do you want to go in there?’ Do you know what he said, Officer? He said some of the things were things of beauty, of wonder, and power. Bloody crackers. I told him the waitress at the café, she was a thing of beauty, or my children and wife, they were also things of beauty. Not this crap.
“He just huffed on me. Flaming huffed. He turned, wouldn’t speak and proceeded to get a spade from the boot of the car. Sorry, trunk to you. Trunk of the car. And he heads over to the graveyard. I had to whip out my flash-light before he went arse over tit over one of those big headstones that lie flat on the ground. Still, I thought, he’s the client, let’s just get it done.
“We wandered round that graveyard for about twenty minutes. I mean, you’ve seen it. It’s not exactly that big is it? But he’s got his face in the book, and I’m now working two torches. One over his shoulder lighting the book, and the other clocking the uneven ground. Fortunately, there’s no sound of anyone watching. I asked to do a precautionary sweep, but he was too keen to go down the tunnel in the ground. I wasn’t bothered because there had been no signs of disturbance in the graveyard or around. I see the wisdom in that now.
“Eventually, he decides which is the right gravestone to lift. It’s far from the biggest, but it was overgrown and took a good twenty minutes digging to loosen away the ground around it. I did the digging because the sweat factory himself looked like he was going to keel over anyway. Before he’d let me move the stone, he chants into the air in some unintelligible language and spreads out some sort of spice. It was all very Dracula.
“With that done, I whipped the headstone off to one side. It was heavy, but nothing too bad. And there’s a hole. Man-sized with some steps disappearing down into the darkness. I shone the flash-light down into the blackness, and he smacked my hand. No lights. In case we disturb them. Flipping madness. He took out this little stick with a bulb on the end which gave off a dim, green glow. Looked like a kid’s night light. Well I thought bollocks to that. I went back and took my night vision goggles out from the car. When I returned, he was standing there impatient, like I had cocked up getting these. Without a word, he takes a step down into the hole but I grabbed him and said I would go first. He gave me all this nonsense about what use would I be with the things that were down below. So I said why are you paying me and pushed past him. Sometimes you can’t give the client a choice. Anyway, I didn’t believe there would be any space creatures.
“We started down some steps, twisting round and round, descending into the ground. I thought they would go on forever, but eventually they broke off into an area. This bothered me because I couldn’t see any edges, any walls. There was just the steps behind me and no sides. There was a roof to the vast room, probably eight foot from the floor. Now I am in a quandary. There’s a serious danger we could get lost. I tried the GPS on my watch, but it wasn’t showing any satellites. So I consulted my client as to what he would do.
“Onward, that’s all he would say, just onward. So I took an executive decision and looked into my rucksack for a large ball of twine I had. The steps were of a smooth construction, very primitive but functional. I was able to wrap the twine round the base of the steps several times before tying it as an anchor point. I stuffed the twine into my pocket and zipped the aperture closed to a point where only a thin line of twine could escape. Satisfied I had my retreat secured, I told Austerley to put a hand on my shoulder.
“It did cross my mind to just race off quickly and lose the fool as he had already deposited my pay in the bank. But I am a professional, even if retired, and it would be against my ethics. I damn well wish I had done it now. But instead, I led my blind paymaster across the void in front of us into the wildest nightmare I have ever seen. Please don’t look up that headstone. There’s nothing of use to find there, nothing of hope. Keep it closed. For the love of God, please keep it closed.”
Scrabbling in the Dark
“It was a weird hunt beneath the ground for whatever we were looking for. Austerley would point over my shoulder, rarely speaking, almost afraid to make a sound. I could just about make out his arm pointing from behind, and the direction seemed fairly random to me. The infra-red goggles were letting me see, but without any reference points, it was hard to work out where I was going.
“Austerley would chant quietly behind me from time to time, words I have never heard before. It felt very freaky, like having the devil at your back, and I was looking forward to getting out of there, grabbing my money and heading home. I remember thinking to myself that next time I’d sneak off for a week’s golf if I got itchy feet. A large sand bunker holds no fear compared with this sort of moonlight shenanigans.
“A tentacle appeared in my two o’clock, and I jumped back, pistol drawn, before I realised it wasn’t moving. Although the infrared distorts the colour of objects, something told me it was grey. A murmured rebuke from Austerley about why was I jumping led to taking his hand and letting him feel the wall ahead. As I scanned the wall, the image was clearly some sort of octopus with elongated tentacles and a type of moustache effect around its mouth.
“The image sent Austerley into an excited frenzy, and he mentioned something about some guy named Hu-tu-loo. Meant absolutely nothing to me. Also something about a hydra. Now that I do know. It’s in the Greek legends, I read them when young. Seven headed beast who was struck down by Perseus, or Hercules, or one of the other demi-gods.
“Part of me was quite relaxed at this point as I believed the lunatic I was accompanying might be satisfied, shoot a few photos and then we would get ourselves back up to the soon-to-rise sun. But no, onward Austerley insisted. Onward. I explained about the twine in my pocket as a way back and he just tutted. Reaching inside, I realised the twine was becoming a rather
thin ball. From my rucksack I took out some automated flares. I would be able to drop these at various points and upon activation from my remote device, they would burn for approximately thirty minutes, marking a route.
“Austerley reckoned this was all a waste of time, and he hopped from one foot to the other in the dark insisting we follow the wall. We made our way along the wall, stopping occasionally with Austerley making a rubbing of the frieze on the wall. I’ll tell you, Officer, that the pictures on the wall got no saner than the creature I saw at the start. There was one particular one that struck Austerley as he felt the design on the wall. He began to shake a little, and his face, from what I could tell of it, took on a most worried frown. I asked what the problem was and got told to promptly shush, and then he uttered one word. One single word, but it was delivered in a slow and hoarse whisper. Shoggoth. That was all, and a hand signal to continue.
“About twenty minutes later, I had run through all of my delayed flares, and I brought Austerley to a stop. He protested in a hushed voice, but I asked him how we were meant to find our way back. The stupid arse then stormed off further into the dark and I was left in a quandary. Do I go and fetch him or do I wait? As it was, my decision was made for me.
“There was a tentacle in the dark. At first I thought I might have just seen a relief in the dark but then it hooked Austerley by the foot. The professor fell hard to the floor and landed on his shoulder in the process. A number of other tentacles could then been seen grabbing hold of him. I pulled my weapon and discharged it into the darkness. Yes, Officer, I know. I had no positive sighting of what was doing it, but hey, I was deep under the ground surrounded by pictures of the weirdest of creatures I’d ever seen. I think if you had been there, you might have fired a few shots too.
