The Old Ones

I write this out of desperation in a long-lost corner of this world. If you find this, please let the world know not to come and explore what we had found. Time is not on my side so heed my words. I have already written my account before but now I feel that I should have ignored the inner sense of adventure I had when he approached me in that bar but it is too late. Read what I have written and hope that you stop here and turn around, the winds are picking up around me and so are the calls for me join them.

This is the note found on top a bundle of notebooks found in an abandoned whaler’s cabin near Grant’s Point in Antarctica.  During the expedition to explore exactly where the author of the notes proved fruitless, and any further exploration could not be undertaken due to the cost venturing further into the frozen landscape with no clear path. My name is Dr. Wall my expedition to map the coast stumbled across a cabin that contained these notes while looking for old expeditions made before. The journal that follows is exactly as put on paper.

 

The streets were never the best place for someone looking for a new start, New York was the worst decision my father made after he lost his job at Massachusetts. A butler all his life life those before him, it broke his spirit and the loss of mother in an earlier time made things much worse as he had to support me and stay sane at the same time. Still he did not devolve into the monster I had seen in the other kids at school, my dad hated the bottle as he had seen his masters turn to monsters when it took them so he swore not to touch the stuff. Due to the legacy our family had established with the Howthorne family I got to study at the Miskatonic University at Arkham (for some reason they thought having sent to a city away from home would make us stronger). My father worked odd jobs until he managed to secure a job at the high society hotel called The Weyland. There he found some solace in working as he knew best, I on the other hand tried my best to find the best subject to master and found that Psychology and Languages best suited me as nothing else seemed to work. I had soft hands which were better as I could work at foreign offices as a public relations person.

At the university I met Jude Hawthorne, he was part of the old family but more a bastard as his mother was a maid the family head decided to have his way with. Still the man had a better head than the rest of the family and so he looked to be the one going to run the estate. That was until his father Arthur Hawthorne decided to gamble the family fortune on a risky shift in trade and lost. Jude’s grandfather knew this could be an eventuality so had secured some of the wealth in form of mutual investments in the name of the children and it seems Jude got lucky. The old man had seen promise in Jude and decided to give him something to build on but before it could be finalised the grandfather passed due the shock of the financial loss.

Jude dropped out of the university disillusioned by the loss of his fortune and drifted away from my life also. That was until 9 years later when I was walking on the streets of New York on the way to work as a hotel receptionist I saw him standing in front of the hotel looking up at the baroque inspired building. I stopped short and a little annoyed that I might get late to work I ignored him and tried to make my way to the front doors. “If it isn’t old Mark Shelley, please give me second to look at you my old friend.”

I stopped and turned to look at him. The street was busy so I had to move closer to him so as to avoid being interrupted by passersby. “Jude, its been a while. How have you been?”

I looked into the eyes of an older friend who looked like the world had chewed and spit him out but still he walked in defiance. They sparkled despite loosing the old life that he was famous (in university) for and the face had more lines than a topological map. Still, he looked like there is life burning withing him and it was infectious. “I have been better. Sorry but I am late for work, maybe we can catch up later at a bar or something.” I spoke as I slowly back away. He smiled broader and thrust forward his right hand to shake mine. “Of course, I will be at the Old Firestone over at 7^th at about 8. See you there?”

I nodded and turned to enter the hotel, as I reached the front doors and turned to see if he was still there I was mildly surprised to see he had vanished. As in I could not see him walk away, there were several people walking to and from on the pavement but there was no sign of Hawthorne. I spent the day greeting foreign guests and filling forms for them and other responsibilities, because my father was not connected to anyone within the government, I could not get a secure post at an embassy, so my options were limited to either become another butler or this. I was not something I would really wish for, but it was all I managed to get.

After the shift was over it was 6:30 and the bar I was to meet Hawthorne was roughly 40 mins on foot I decided to take a short detour and pass a bookstore on the way. Just like the library this was a form of sanctuary for me, no one asking me what to do nor anyone telling me what to do. It was the blanket of silence I enjoyed here. Picking a book from the centre I was interested in I leafed through for a moment and mulled over the possibilities of what Hawthorne would want from me. I never considered him to be a friend even though we spent the better part of 12 years together in school. He was older by a year to me but because of his illegitimacy his education began later than mine.

Closing the book I paid for it and left for the mentioned bar, outside it was dreary and the rain had just began to announce its arrival. A light drizzle had begun as I made my way to the meeting, the book firmly held in my coat I used one had to hold my hat down to place. It took another 25 mins to reach the place and by that time the rain had begun in earnest.

I pushed the door in to the place and was immediately greeted with a smell of beer and food, my stomach reminded me that I had not had anything to eat since last night. Still I wasn’t here for that, I scanned the dimly lit area for my friend and found him sitting at a booth. He saw me also and waved me over, I made my way past a few empty tables and few patrons over to his booth. The bar was in a quiet street away from the main so there were few people here who bothered to even look at me as I passed, most were engaged in conversation with their neighbours or brooding over their drinks.

 “You made it, for a moment I thought you would not want anything to do with me.” He spoke as I sat down across him. I looked at him curiously and replied “why? You never did me any wrong while we were in school and even in university you helped me get into the higher library even though you risked your own membership.”

Hawthorne smiled and turned to face the bar, raising his hand he ushered a waitress over. She sauntered over and my friend gave an order for a double scotch and a steak dinner, I began to protest but he would hear none of it. “You look like you haven’t had an honest meal in months Jude, please let me redeem a small favour from you.”

I sat back and waited for him to speak and speak he did.

“You must be wondering how I tracked you down after these years? Well actually it was easy, the hotel belonged to an acquaintance whom I kept in touch with because of my work. After I left the university due to the situation then I wondered here and there until I found work as a fisherman. Odd I know but still I needed to understand what to with myself. While working as a deck hand I hear rumours and then tales of an island that reminded me of the story you showed me when reading from my stepfather’s library.”

He sat back and took a sip of his glass and looked up and I could see the pain on his face. My drink was brought to me and I took a tentative sip, whisky wasn’t exactly my type of drink but neither was any form of alcohol. Still when I had a chance I took a drink but just enough to be clear headed enough to walk home. Hawthorne then looked at me a smiled, “you know of all the people I met in my life so far you were the only one who gave me any modicum of respect and for that I never really repaid you for that.”

I looked up at him puzzled by this, he was after all my father’s employer in some sense. All I did was what was taught to me by my father. Hawthorne did have a point though, no one in the household save myself, my father and grandfather showed any respect to him. The grandfather who I never referred to my name in any form allowed me to read from the library when I was little and never let anyone tell me otherwise. Still there was a threshold I could not cross and till now would not cross it.

“So now, reason I came looking for you was that I the island in question is located past the very southern tip of the Americas, I need to see if I can find it. The money that I inherited from the old man is still there and from what I understand it had grown a lot more but was out of reach for me. Also in my travels I have also come to understand that I am cursed like my bastard of a father and now I need to see if I can be free from it.”

I was taken aback by this statement. The waitress slid the place with my dinner and tried to let me know, I jerked back, and it took me a moment to gather myself. Trying to smile and thanking her I made a poor show of myself, but it seemed that she was used to such behaviour and smiled back moved to attend another table. The smell of the food made my stomach grumble but still my mind was blank, “please eat my friend, I can hear that stomach of yours here.”

I looked down and slowly began to eat, it was good and eating anything other than just boiled vegetables felt like heaven. I could see that Hawthorne was toying with his glass while looking at the space above him. “You know, there was a time I looked for you after I left our university, but due to the factors that were then I thought better not to involve you in my life. Now it seems I cannot avoid it and I will need my Watson.” He spoke as he locked eyes with me, I was not aware that I was being sought after. “I did not leave an address with anyone after my father’s passing because I know that your kin will probably come looking for my mother. We were loyal to your family and carried many secrets but we would not break our oaths in hopes of a pay. Your Aunt Penelope would rather have us thrown in prison then let us live so you can see.”

Hawthorne looked at me and slowly began to smile, “you will note that most of my corrupted family is now locked in the mausoleum like my grandfather. It seems that my uncle angered a local at a town called Innsmouth while on holiday and none it seems came back after. I know this because my travels took me there when I found out that part of my inheritance was a share in a local canning company. The owner was a weird man but because I bore no resemblance to the Hawthorne family in temperament nor looks he let me be.”

Hawthorne sat up as a man slowly approached our table, we looked like he was passed his due time and would fall at any given moment. The face, from where I sat looked ancient and the eyes were sunken to the point they looked like cave entrances. His walk was more like a scarecrow, all stiff at the joints, rather than a person. As he reached our table he reached into his coat pocket and dropped a notebook and a pendant on to the table. After this he promptly turned and shambled out the establishment. My eyes were drawn to the pendant that lay on the table, it looked like it was made from silver and the patterns looked more like a fish pattern with flowing reefs. I could not get a better look as Hawthorne picked it up and placed into his coat pocket. The notebook was just as interesting as it looked ancient, the cover looked like old leather and from what I could see it was. No markings on the cover to indicate to whom it belonged to, still I looked at Hawthorne questioningly and he smiled back at me.

“This belonged my grandfather, the man who brought it is an Innsmouth native. They are curious and I would not bother with them with a 10 foot pole, them and their god they call Dagon or something. Still I needed this fellows help in procuring this notebook to help me clear my matters.”

Hawthorne picked the notebook, leafed through it and then put it the shoulder bag he carried. “So here is the offer, come with me and I will offer you 300 per week till my matters are concluded. I know it’s a lot but trust me I have more than I need and journey I am to embark on money is the least of my worries. So tell me will you join me?”

I sat back, looked around the bar, the number of people had reduced and it felt empty to me. Looking at the time I saw it was nearly 8, I should be sleeping now. I usually wake by 3 to have my breakfast and work at a bakery just down the street. It helped as the food I had was from there, the salary from the hotel just covered the rent and a few other things. I then looked at Hawthorne and nodded my head. He smiled and looked at the bar and nodded at the bartender, “good, for a moment I thought I would have to go looking for another person to help me out old friend. Please a toast to our agreement. After this I know you will have to go home and wrap up I suppose.”

I shook my head, letting him know that the place I stayed in was more a room and the few belongings I did have were stolen long ago and now I lived my life by my pockets. If it fits in a few pockets then its mine. My father left me with debts and nothing more so I decided to make sure I lived without that. Hawthorne looked at me puzzled by this, he asked if the clothes I wore were the only ones I owned to this I nodded and smiled for the first time. He sat back also and said that we will need to stop by a store and get me some new clothes as I will not have a place nor time to clean and dry the clothes.

I then asked him where we were going, “we leave tonight, I have a ship booked for Iceland, there is a site that was recently uncovered by some archaeologists. What it is about they cannot say but from what I was informed it may be the best place to start our little adventure. So to the store first to get you some clothes then to the dock. I hope you don’t get sea sick because we will on board for 2 weeks.”

With that I began this cursed trail of madness with Hawthorne.

This is a truncated account of the writer of this journal, there was a full schedule of how he lived his life that has not connection to the account. There are 2 other journals that we will add as follows.

 

The trip was uneventful for me, just after we left the bar Hawthorne took me to a store that was open to see if could find some warm clothes as the place we were to go was much colder than I was led to believe. Our destination is Olafsvik, Hawthorne said that once there we will be trekking north to Holmavik and then another days walk to the site. “Its odd that the site would be in such a place but honestly the site photos I was given relate very close to what I found at Innsmouth. Still I feel that what remains there was never meant to be found.”

Once at Olafsvik we were greeted by one of the people from the dig who took us north to the other town on horseback, it was difficult for me as I had never been on a horse. My legs aches for days after, walking gait suffered even more as I felt like they were going to fall off under me. Roads were still being made so cars were out of the question unless you wanted them to fall apart from the terrain halfway there. So I held on and tried my best to work with what I had, Hawthorne on the other hand seemed to enjoy the ride and tried to keep my spirits up. The morphine he had bought back in New York seemed for me as I pretty much lived off that drug at the end of the ride, the numbness that came helped me sleep and journey.

Iceland is a remarkable place, unlike the name given to it, there was little snow but more a barren rocky land. How people lived here I cannot fathom but still we met a number of the inhabitants on our way and they were friendly. I tried the local food and though it was odd for me it tasted better than the food I had in New York. The air was the most invigorating thing here, my lungs felt like they were finally breathing again and my body lost its tired nature. I felt alive here and the food much it much better, the drinking at night just warmed me well.

We reached Holmavik and from there we travelled inward to the site, the landscape seemed to darken. The skies felt like they wanted to just fall on us, the air was heavier than before and the site we were to reach felt further and further for some reason. Hawthorne felt it too and he kept checking the maps and compass to reassure himself. The guide felt the same and seemed more nervous. We pressed on and hoped things would get better. The journey felt longer than half a day but we finally reached the site.

It was quiet, there was no one there. Our guide, who was part of the expedition ran into the camp calling out the names of the people there. No answer came back, Hawthorne turned to me and motioned to follow him. “It seems I was right to carry the pendant, this place is not a simple burial place or home. You have your father’s pendant right? Hold on to it and if anything happens keep calm. We cannot lose our heads here, our guide may soon find himself in a precarious position but we cannot help as it seems he was already marked.”

I looked at Hawthorne “what do you mean marked, I did not see any sign of a mark on him.”

Hawthorne looked grim, “his eyes were a shade darker and while travelling here you should have noticed he kept to himself more and answered little to what we had to ask. So, keep your eyes and ears sharp follow me.”

I followed him to the camp, everything looked like the inhabitants had left in a moments notice. The fire place had died a while ago and the cooking pot on top of it had burnt remains of a meal. The tents looked like the people had just stepped out for a moment, I wanted to investigate further but Hawthorne grabbed hand motioned me not to do so. He instead pointed to a dig site, I followed his line of sight. It looked like a mound and nothing more, there were not indications that it looked like an archaeological dig. I again followed him to the place, the ground looked well-trodden which I found better as the land around us was more rocky.

On reaching the dig, I was surprised as it looked much smaller than expected. To me it felt like they were digging a fire pit so I edged closer to get a better look, the one thing I noticed was that the guide was no where to be heard, and I almost fell in due the loose earth around the site. Hawthorne, who was right behind me, grabbed my coat to keep me from falling in. Looking to where I would I have fallen my jaw fell open. Gaining my foot and taking a better look down I could see that what was being excavated was a giant stone disc with archaic carvings. My knowledge of foreign language is rudimentary and could not read a single letter. Hawthrone on the other hand was blank faced, he stared at the disc for a long time and in his eyes I could see a darker shade of anger taking over. “The fools, they should not have dug this place up without protection. This alter stone was the one thing I told them not to touch. Alas you cannot tell a fool not to do something and expect them to follow advice.” Bringing his right had to face he stopped and saw something further away from the site, he squinted and brought his hand down and started to make his way there. I followed as I knew nothing better and it felt that with him I had better chance at survival. I then realised what he was making his way to, it was disturbing sight to behold, a shrine of some sort was constructed with a large rock made into an alter. A person from the looks of it was strung up on the rock and it looked like the skin was peeled away from the person, the closer we got the worse the smell became. It become almost unbearable by the time we reached the outer rim, the ground around was crimson with blood and it encircled the rock. I basically threw up on the grisly sight in front of us, bodies of the crew lay all over the ground. I could not take a better look at I had turned to throw up all guts, Hawthorne on the other hand stood there looking absolutely livid at the sight. “The fools, I told them where to go and what to do and still like children playing with fire they throw themselves into the flames, this makes this whole situation much worse. See this Mark, the results of utter stupidity.” He held his hands out, I did not follow his gaze but asked him, “you told them to come here?”

He turned to me, “forgive me friend, but you see because of the situation I find myself in I had no choice but to reach out to a professor here to start the excavation but not before setting up the ritual to protect themselves. It seems greed got the better of them, I will better explain this after. Come now, I will need to finish what has begun and put an end to this.”

Hawthorne turned and walked to the dig site, I stood a moment longer holding any further gut reactions down. The rock was an outcrop form the looks of it and the person, whoever she was from the anatomy was bound with rope and secured to the rock. The blood had drained out a long time and the grisly scene was still sinking into me and I cannot describe what else there was in words as it still makes me nauseous, the man who brought us here was still nowhere in sight. Looking down at where I stood I was no more than half a foot from the crimson ring and everything in my soul told me turn back now, I followed this as I knew that any longer spent here would drain me of my energy. I joined Hawthorne at the site, he had taken up a position a few steps away from the actual dig and laid out a book on a table. He was leafing through it and talking to himself. I looked over his should to see what he was talking about, “this book was written by a man call Alhazared and all I can say is that you need to be insane like him understand this. This alter stone is not here and most of the ramblings are about another temple.” I stood back not understanding this and waited for him to engage me, I looked around further in hopes that the guide would turn up or I might see something to do.

Again Hawthorne cursed and then dug out a folder containing loose pages and a diary, again he kept muttering to himself and leafed through all the pages. I on the other hand walked around the site looking down at the large disc shaped object. On the outer ring were archaic words written that were alien to me and it was also the same for 3 other rings. At the centre was a figure of kind of sitting man but this one looked like an octopus was used for the head and where the eyes were there were green stones, emeralds maybe?, I dared not get closer after seeing the massacre at the rock. There was a hole dug into the ground next to the disc which I went closer to investigate, “I would not get any closer my friend. Whatever lies inside may not be welcoming even if it did not have a form.”

I drew back and joined my friend, he finally found what he was looking for and he put the page down and pointed at drawing that looking at the drawing that looked like the large disc. “There it is, this is not a worship alter object but more a marker. It look to be part of a compass point… hmm I will need to get down and see what else I can find. Mark, remain here and keep watch. I will be a moment.” With this statement he proceeded to climb down on to the large disc. There was a passage made to make this easier but still my fear of what I am witness to did not leave. The air was thick with the smell of rot and funnily also sea salt seemed to also come through, though we were more that a few mile away from any shore I could smell that scent of salt in the air. I could not fathom where it could come from so I kept this to myself. I watched Hawthorne walk on top of the stone disc and kneel down with a brush and a knife, he started to clean areas that were left and worked inch by inch. I watched and every now and then turned to look at the surrounding area to see if anything had changed. Nothing, the sky was still a darker shade of grey and the air was like a weighty blanket smothering me.

Hawthorne satisfied by his work stood up and turned to me, “in my bag there will be a black candle and a leather pouch, I need you hand them to me so I can finish this ritual. And once I being under no condition are you to step on to this marker stone. I may shout or more but you need to stay out and protect the ritual.”

I did as he asked and sought out the candle and the pouch and handed them to him while staying as far away as I could. He seemed satisfied by my effort and smiled at me “sorry old friend but there is no one I know would follow without would questioning me every step of the way and causing me to lose my concentration and train of thought. After this I will explain all, that I promise.”

He placed the candle at the foot of the figure at the centre of the disc and then lit it, taking a step back he withdrew and handful of black powder that looked like sand from the pouch and drew a circle on the figure, all the while whispering something under breath. Once that was done he stood near the candle and held out his hand and began drawing patterns in the air while still whispering incantations (at least this what I thought at the time). The air seemed to gain some life and began to blow gently then got stronger, I could hear distinct sound over the wind and from what I could discern it was like people wailing. I turned to look as to where they were coming from but could not find the source, I did not venture and remained where I stood. The odour of copper now made its way to me, I could smell the blood now and it wall worse than before as it was tinged with the smell of rotted fish. Trying not to gag at this I held on, Hawthorne it seemed to have reached his climax now. “THIS IS NO LONGER YOUR DOMAIN, THE OLD ONES NO LONGER HOLD DOMINION OVER OUR NAMES,” he shouted. Fearing the wind would blow the pages on the table away I hurriedly gathered them and stuffed them into the bag, including the book. I made a note to ask if I could later have a better look at it.

Hawthorne kept shouting the verses again and again till something below the disc began to rumble, the earth felt like it was about to give way. I wanted to run and grab my friend but he raised his had to halt my progress. I stood back and picked up his bag, he calmly then took a step toward me as the disc began to crack. From the centre it began to crumble and as Hawthorne joined me it was all but gone and the hold that was left began to fill with the earth around it. We ran for the camp and the horses just beyond. The ground was shaking with a rabid ferocity that nearly tripped either of us a few times but the will to leave was stronger. The horse looked like they were also read to run from there, so we unhooked them and climbed on, there was no signal nor incentive need to spur the horses. The ran like the proverbial wind, looking back I could see a huge dark cloud forming over the site and it was getting large by the second. We galloped at a break neck speed for what felt like hours but just moments, after some time the situation calmed down and the ground looked more stable under us.

Hawthorne stopped and looked back, I did so and could see the black cloud was no longer visible. The sky became clear now and I could see the sun and feel a little of the warmth. Turning to Hawthorne I began, “now could you for the love of God tell me what in the actual hell is going on?”

He smiled sadly and said, “well that is the least I owe you for this. Lets make our way to the town and I will explain as we trot.”

This is what he told me.

Hawthorne’s account.

After being disillusioned by the sudden passing of my grandfather I decided to seek my fortune elsewhere. That was when I heard of a small claim I was to be given up in Canada, so I made my way there instead and worked the land like any other miner. It was hard but eventually I struck a vein and from that I finally found my fortune. It was good and the money flowed into my pockets, I wanted to live like a king so I kept at it. That was until the end of the vein, after that I could not find another and because of my luck all the land around was taken and with that more miners trying their luck. So I hung up my pick axe and decided to head back to my old home and see what I could do.

Travelling to the old town I was shocked to find that the old house was abandoned and the Hawthorne name was virtually wiped from the local memory. I tried to find out what happened but kept hitting a stone wall, that was until a local lawyer told me that a colleague of his had come by a few years ago looking for me. He gave me a name but the location was odd, it was from Innsmouth. I decided not bother and look for something else to do and that turned out to working as a fisherman. I wanted to finally clear my head so I made my way to New York and from there to New Haven. There I was hired as a deck hand and because of mining it had stronger hands and could work longer, so worked there for a year. It was peaceful and the demands were less on my person, the life of a fisherman suited me and I met many a sailor who would talk of old stories. When I mentioned Innsmouth they would screw they faces and act like I was babe babbling nonsense. Still I waiting for an old sailor who would enlighten me. Finally I did find one, he was called Fisher Frank (for some odd reason) and after a few drinks he told me this.

Innsmouth was a pariah town for all fishermen, they kept away from there because the people would act like primitive folk if ever you were caught finishing in their area. They looked like fish themselves and never ventured further than their town, I asked about this but Frank had no true idea. All he said was that they were not God-fearing fishermen as they prayed to some old fish god. I would do well not to go anywhere near there. I laughed and told him that I hear a few fishermen talking about the place in a quiet corner is why I asked about that place. He believed me and told me never to ask about the place again as it was considered back luck by other sailors.

After my 2 years at sea I left the fishing industry to its devices and decided it better I meet this Markuson. So I travelled to Innsmouth, it was not easy. All roads I was let to believe led out of Innsmouth and not in. So I took a bus all the way to Newburyport, there I had the worst time possible to look for a passage to Innsmouth. Still I managed to get one but not the conventional way, I had to look up a local distributor for canned foods who had dealings with Innsmouth folk and he managed to get me into contact with a truck driver who was from there. I had to mention my name in order to get his attention and after that a shake of a hand and a ten dollar bill I was on my way with his cargo. Sitting at the back of the rickety old truck was spine cracking but I had to endure because there was no other way I could get there.

I had no idea where we were going or even if we were heading to the town in question but after an hour and a half we stopped, the smell of rotted fish quickly assailed my nose and I almost lost my stomach. The driver took his time and finally opened the door for me, the smell got worse. My eyes watered from it and it took breath from my mouth to make anything better, asked the driver how he could stand the smell and he looked at me oddly and turned to off load his cargo. I turned to see where we were and for the life of I never thought I would see such an odd place. We were infront of a building that looked like a store front but the sign was not there. I asked the driver where we were and he mentioned something about the only hotel in town. I decided it was better to enquire withing the building as asking the driver was asking a drowning man if he was drowning. I stepped looked at the building up and down before walking, the place was dark inside and hardly any sign of life. What as odd place I thought, that was until I met the proprietor, and everything went out the window. The man standing Infront of me looked a cross between a man and fish, it was like he was turning into one. The large lidless eyes and even larger mouth took me a second to digest before I could talk, he spoke in a deep voice asking me if I needed something.

I mentioned my full name and enquired where the office of the lawyer named Markuson was. He then told me if I was there to close the cannery to which I replied that I had no idea about that and if was in my power to keep it running that I will explore that route. He introduced himself as Joseph Monroe the manager of the Gilman House, also informed that the lawyer had his office in the same building and would take me there. I obliged him and was asked to follow, we took a side door out the hotel space, as he called it, and into a kind of corridor. Walking behind him so as to not get lost in this place we climbed a few stairs and took a few left and rights till finally we reached a windowed door with the name Willow and Mansfield. He left me there and I decided to know on the glass pane, a voice from within called to enter and I tried the handle, it was ice cold. Turning the handle was a chore as it felt stuck and given my strength it felt stuck until the person with sounded like they heard my struggle and walked over to open the door. With a loud click the handle turned and the door opened to reveal the inhabitant, a tall wiry man who looked hunched over. This was the same man who dropped off the notebook and pendant.

“You must be Jude Hawthorne, please come in. Apologies for the mess, I am alone here and my organization skills are wanting. Come, come take a seat so can begin.”

He looked old but normal compared to the odd folk I had met, he walking gait looked like he would fall over at any moment and from the 3 quarter empty bottle of Bourbon I could expect that. Drawing closer to his desk I could see a film of dust on the bottle and it looked like no one had touched in a long time, Markuson took his place behind the desk and I sat across him on chair left for me. Markuson began shuffling papers that were on his table and moved out the way. He brought out a larger folder that was yellow in colour and laid out Infront of me. “Let me show you what I called upon you for, as you know your grandfather did not complete the formalities of your inheritance at home, but fear not I do have a signed copy that was formalised beforehand. You see your grandfather left you a sizeable sum in First Boston bank in … well Boston but also left you shares in Hawthorne Cannery. Your family were the few who started something here and left to build a better life out there. My grandfather was the one who managed your estates here so your connections remains.” I nodded for him to continue, “well as you know you aunt had come a few years prior in hopes of selling or closing the cannery as she wanted to put her relation with this town to rest. Unfortunately for her and her family they … met with an accident while surveying some land they owned which leads to this new will. Everything in the Hawthorne’s name is now yours do with as you wish.”

I looked down as the piece of paper dumbfounded by this. My relationship with my aunt was non-existent as she looked at me a mistake that should have been dealt with in earlier. So there was no love lost there, but they were family so I had to ask what was done. He mentioned that an inquest was carried out and it was concluded that the area they were surveying was a marsh land and the soil was too soft for human feet. The rainstorm that occurred at the time did not help so they were trapped in the marsh by the soft soil and subsequently drowned. It took 2 weeks to bring the bodies back to town and later carted off to the Hawthorne estate for burial, the police accepted the report from the local police and did not bother sending a representative to verify the account. I looked Markuson with bewilderment and then down to the paper in front of me, the words began to shift. Markuson recognised that I was losing my focus and offered me a drink to help me back to reality, taken from a different bottle I looked the one he had on his desk inquisitively. “This belonged to my father, I basically left it as is since I took up office here. I do not have the heart to move it as it was his only salvation from the dreary life of this town. So tell me one thing, what are proposing for the cannery as it is the place hardly does any business these days.”

“I was just thinking if I could just sell it to the one who is running it right now and wash my hands of it. Maybe if there is something he and I could work out I can walk away with less to worry about.”

He looked at me and this was the first time he smiled, “well that will work better. I know he will be happier with that then closing.”

With that cleared we discussed the rest of the will and it seems that the local bank had something like 5,000 dollars in the Hawthorne name that I saw will not leave this town so I asked if Markuson would accept as his payment. He smiled again but with sadness in his eyes as the bank was not in a functional state to even give out 500 dollars. I left that money where it was as I had no basic access to it. The land my aunt had come with her family to sell was another issue which I told him to have reverted to the town, this he seemed to be at ease about. Once I sorted all these issues out I knew I was clear of this town and its curse on me. Markuson then mentioned that my grandfather had left me with a few things but they are locked in the bank safe and that will be a problem as the bank manager was out of town and would be back in 3 weeks time. I did not want to stay here so I asked him to see if he can sort that. He obliged me and said once that was done he will close offices here and finally leave.

“This town was damned for a long time, there was a really a time when the cannery was not just canning fish but all profits for the Hawthorne family, but that time slowly passed. Your great grandfather saw the message loud and clear on the sand and with that moved the family to Boston then to the logging town Bright Lake. You see your family may not be one of the four wealthy families of this town, they however were the ones who saw the truth and left before it devoured them. My grandfather also saw the same and moved us out and so now I live about 45 minutes drive from here. The only reason I was in the office was because your family has been good to us and this will be my last charge.”

I asked him if he had any other clients and he mentioned that his 2 brothers were also lawyers and they had a practice in Boston, which was where he will be leaving for after this matter was resolved. I got up and let him know that I would like to conclude my business from this town and he seemed all to happy to do so. I took the file he has offered me and with that I was about to leave when he asked if knew where the cannery was. I did not and he offered to take and see if could close that part of the will. I accepted and asked for a moment to gather his things. I waited outside his office, looking through the papers I came upon a receipt from a book repair shop in Boston. It looked recent as in 3 months recent, it was to do with repairing the binding and cover of a book. It piqued my interest and decided to ask Markuson on this once he emerged. He finally came out with a small briefcase in had and closed the door. I saw that he did not lock behind him and asked him about that. “There is nothing in that office that is any value so locking is not important and besides there are barely 900 people in town who need a lawyer like me.”

I followed him through the winding corridors and back out into the open stinky air. I coughed at the smell and Markuson smirked that if you lived long enough here you would get used it and maybe even end smelling the same. I took a better look around the street and the houses, this was the town centre and honestly it looked like a town forgotten by time. Many of the buildings were boarded up and I saw only 5 or 6 people walking about. The sky was grey and unappealing, the air heavy with the stench, I felt like I would need soak in a tub for 2 hours after this matter was cleared. I followed Markuson to his car and got in, it was a Ford so somewhat comfortable, the road was jarring in places but we had not choice, the streets had not names from what I noticed and asked Markuson about this and he mentioned that it was confuse outsiders should want to come and meddle in the town’s business. We passed a church and here Markuson said that it belonged to the Esoteric Order of Dagon, there were 3 people standing outside watching us pass the place and their looks scared me. I looked away and Markuson noticed this, “those are members of the order, better not bother with them. I survived here because of the deal my father made with them. We represent their interests outside this godforsaken town and they leave us alone. Now it seems that deal is at an end, I received a warning not too long ago and was actually going through old files in case I need for later.”

He drove further in silence and I did not want to break it as I was brooding what I heard. I am the last living Hawthorne and its not even by choice. We finally reached the cannery, it was a small affair from the outside and did not look like there was anything happening there. A few people were walking about and nothing more, I stepped out the car and braced my self for the smell but this time there wasn’t one. It smelled like a factory, it caught me off guard but I gathered myself and followed Markuson to the foreman’s office. The place looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in decades, there was grime everywhere and fish offal bins lined walls. The smell of rot was there and I could not fathom how this was even a factory at all. Walking to the back of the warehouse we climbed a set of stairs and I dare not touch the rail for support in fear of catching some sort of disease. At the top we turned right and follows a gangway to a door that was ajar, looking inside I could see a man hunched over a desk writing down something. Markuson know the door as a courtesy and waited, the figure looked up in surprise. He was a beast of a man but what took me aback were the sizes of his eyes, they looked like fish eyes. Blinking he asked us our business, “Jeb, you know me. This is Jude Hawthorne, he…”

“So you are here to close us down finally or what?”

“No, actually I wanted to know if there is a way we can work something out so you continue running the place and I hand over ownership to you in the process.”

Jeb looked at me and sat back for a minute, then gathered himself. “Ok, please have a seat. Tell me what do you propose and how can we make this work.”

I waited for Markuson to take a seat and followed, “what do you have to offer?” Markuson asked as he brought up his briefcase to sit on his lap.

“Well, as far as money is concerned there is very little here. I can however offer an arrangement where I give you deed to my distant cousin’s home in Arkham?”

Markuson fished out a contract that he called a transfer of ownership and left that on the desk, I looked at and at Markuson. He said that this was an eventuality he had prepared for as he was set to leave the town in a weeks’ time. I glanced over the contract and saw that all was in order, only blank details were the offer for the operation. I sat back and looked back to Jeb, Markuson excused himself and let us know he will be waiting in the car as his part was now complete in the matter.

I nodded to Markuson and let him go, then turned to Jeb. “That is all fine but what I really want is information. How are the Hawthorne’s connected to this place, I know at some point they made their fortune processing the fish but the money does not add up.”

“Correct, it doesn’t. So here I can offer you something that will be more educational. I have papers that you great grandfather had left here, I have not looked at them as it is not my business but let me be honest neither you nor I will ever know what really happened to drive your grandfather out of this town. Also there is a lock box containing some other things in that office.”

I nodded and agreed to this, on the sale agreement I wrote down 1 dollar as the sale value and signed it. Jeb looked at the value and laughed out and asked me why did not want the house instead and I told him that I did not earn the right to be the owner. “I respect that. Ok then let me take you to the office. A word of warning, I have not opened that office for over 50 years now, so it will be a mess.”

I followed Jeb out of the office further down the gangway, at the end we turned left and there was a large wooden door. Odd I though, it looked like it was kept clean while everything around it was decaying. Jeb looked through some keys and found the one he was looking for, “Well I have been working here for 30 years but the man before me told me the same do not open this door for anyone except a Hawthorne. Penelope was not interested in coming here so I didn’t bother offering her. Take your time I suppose and let me know when you are done.” He spoke swinging the door open. The old musty air rushed out like it was finally set free after all these years and it smelled odd like old furniture. I walked in expecting the place to be a mess but it looked organised. Taking a closer look everything was caked in dust, Jeb was right in saying that no one had been in the room for a while. Jeb stood at the door looking inside with awe, “never thought I would be one opening this door. Well my job is done, have a look and take what is yours. I will be in my office organising myself, now that I own this place things will have to finally change.” With that he left me.

I looked around the place, wiping off old dust from documents here and there but nothing worth really looking into. That was until I opened the only drawer on the desk, inside was a folder containing pages, I took it out and began looking through the pages, they were all written in this old writing style I could not make head nor tail of it until I got the final page. There I found the key, one line was written in this script and the other plain English. It read like “in their slumber we wait for the final moment when we shall be anointed the keepers of the old gods.”

Old gods, I thought to my self, what old gods? I took the folder and placed in to the bag I was carrying. I saw a safe in the corner, I moved to it and braced myself for disappointment in finding it locked. Grabbing the handle I pulled and with a creak it opened, I was astonished by this revelation. How could anyone leave a safe unopened, I looked inside and to my disappointment there was nothing. On closer inspection I saw a that there was a black box. I took it out and shook like a child. No sound, I tried to open it and it did. Inside were more papers, I had enough of this place and decided to take and the folder with me. Giving the office another look around I found nothing more and left.

Passing Jeb’s office I could see he was hunched over his desk working on something, I mentioned that I got what I needed and was leaving. He grunted an answer and I left.

Outside I saw Markuson was waiting the car, I got in and settled down. “I take the transaction was fruitful?”

“Yes, I sold it to him for access to my grandfather's office and a dollar.”

Markuson smiled at this and started the car, “better that then what your aunt did. Well bygones I say, I was saddened to hear of their passing but honestly your grandfather did mention that your father and aunt had forgotten about this place completely because they were raised spoilt.”

I did not reply but just stared forward, he followed my gaze and about 20 feet from the car were to robbed figures. They just stood there, not moving, then a tap on my window broke my attention. It was a man I hadn’t met before, rolling the window down he introduced himself, “my name, sir, is Nathaniel Morse and I represent the law in this town.”

“Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?” I replied.

“Well I was informed that a Hawthorne had come back to town, now from the looks if it that would be you. Also from what I was told was that you had come to close this here business?”

“No, I handed the ownership over to Jeb for a fair price.”

“Really, well I did not expect that. Markuson, you know me I prefer the truth and is this young gentleman speaking the truth?”

“Yes Nathaniel, go ask Jeb and he will show you the agreement.”

Nathaniel stood up straight and bumped his hand on the roof of the car, “well if that is the truth then Dagon be with you. Also what about the piece of acreage that sits over yonder?”

“Will be transferred back to the town Nat.”

Confusion rose on the face of Nathaniel as he tried to digest what he just heard, I could see that intelligence was had to come by in this place. Scratching the back of his head he waved to the 2 figures on our path and they both stepped aside. Markuson asked “does that mean we can go?”

“Yes, please be on your way.”

Markuson shifted into gear and the car moved forward. Slowly at first so as not to startle the figures still standing near the road and once passed he sped up. Markuson was sweating from what I could see and my hands were also clammy from the encounter. “Who was that?”

“He is one of the senior member of the order. I would call him a soldier as his job is to make sure undesired people are dealt with, permanently if possible, while keeping order related persons in check. I think we have concluded matters here let me take you to Newburyport there a coffee should untangle my nerves.”

I agreed, so forward we moved. Passing the town I could now see what the inhabitants really looked like. Many of them looked like half fish, that scared the life out of me. “Looks like something is going to happen today, normally most of them would only come out at night. Looks like what you did has kept the both of us alive.”

We passed dilapidated houses and worse looking people and I kept my head down while looking from the side. It began to dawn on me as to why my family left this place, these people were either sick of some sort of disease or they were cursed. Markuson kept his eyes on the road and tried to avoid hitting the shambling people on the road, he wanted to leave this place just as much as I did. Finally what felt like hours we passed the city and were on open road. Markuson finally started to breath again from the looks of it, though he kept one eye on the rear view mirror just in case.

I on the other hand felt like I could finally breath again, the air tasted sweeter and I sat back still holding my bag. “Well get comfortable, we have about an hour to go, I am just happy to be out for today.”

“What about the bank?”

“That my friend, I will go after the 3 weeks. I would prefer to avoid anyone in town, they are easy to anger and even though your actions today would bring some modicum of happiness I don’t see it lasting very long. The smartest decision you made was not take anything from them, by the way how much did you sell the cannery for?”

“A dollar.”

Markuson laughed even louder, he asked if I had that dollar. I replied that I might have forgotten on Jeb’s desk and at this he laughed even louder. It seemed that all the suppressed anxiety finally found an outlet. Markuson had to park the car on the side of the road so he could catch his breath, still he took 15 minutes to regain composure. I waited for him and finally we were on our way in earnest. “This is the best day for me, I am finally done with that place. Once I am done with the bank I will be free to embark on a better journey in my life.”

After some time I finally mustered up the courage to ask about the receipt. He turned for a moment and then mentioned that while clearing his office he came upon the book with a letter from my father asking his father to see if there was a way to have it repaired. Markuson thought nothing of it and decided to do that as it belonged to my family. That thought turned to fear as 2 of the book repair shops he visited outright refused to tough the book, it took a week of wandering until he chanced upon the little book shop tucked away in the middle of Boston. Here the shop owner agreed to repair the book but mentioned that I would take 2 months to do so as the cover would make from human skin. Markuson then realised why the other shops refused to touch the book, he himself then felt sick. He asked the shop owner on what the book was and the answer he got was not what he expected, it was called the Necronomicon and it held secrets of the old gods. The shop owner knew of this because he himself sold it to my father many years ago, Markuson informed him of my father’s demise and the shop owner shook his head and said to come after the 2 months with the receipt.

I decided to pick the book and informed Markuson that I would so do, he seemed even more relieved now. Once we got to town Markuson took me to diner and we sat down and tried to figure out what to do next. I informed him that the only thing left that connected both was the bank and he promised to close that as soon as he could. Once he had the items he would telegram me the details and I would inform him where to bring them. I was hungry finally as I had nothing to eat and given the train of events forgotten that it was over a day since I last ate. Once done I took up my bag and we parted ways, Markuson asked if I would like to join him for a drink but I declined as I needed to find a bus to take me to Boston. He smiled and shook my hand, “take care, I have no idea what your family did but honestly I am happy I really don’t. Still if you ever need my services please let me know.” With that we finally parted and I left to see if I could get a bus. It was nearing midnight so getting a bus was near impossible, so I booked the first one I got which departed at 6 in the morning. I had time to rest but my nerves were still on fire and knew that if I slept now I would not wake up easily. So I decided to find a quiet place to go through the pages I found, looking for a place I came to a hotel nearby and decided to rent a room so I am not disturbed.

I asked the receptionist to call me at 5 so I don’t miss the bus. I sat down to read but before I knew it I woke up to the telephone ringing. I washed my face and laughed at myself because I had just closed my eyes for just a moment and I fell asleep from the exhaustion. Making sure I packed everything I left the room and checked out. The bus ride was like an hour but it helped me clear my head of the fuzzy sleep. In Boston I looked for a diner to get some breakfast then to the bookshop for the book.

Taking a taxi was my best option and I never really like Boston as a city for some reason and even though I lived there for 3 years. The taxi dropped me off 2 minutes away from the shop, it was located in a odd place. In an alleyway and could be missed by anyone so I wondered how Markuson found it or even my father. Looking at the place from the outside it had no distinguishing information only the sign up top saying “Bookshop” and nothing more. I tried the door and it opened, the bell above the door announced my entry and voice called out from within “be with you in a moment.”

The speaker sounded old and further behind, I took this as an opportunity to look at the books in display. They were arranged meticulously and some of the titles really captured my attention, one however really did that. I took it out and it read “Ways of the Old One, the understanding of his dreams.” The author was not someone I recognized, hell I was no book reader so there weren’t that many I knew. “Ahh, a new customer. That book is quite a find if I am to say so. I tried to read it but my mind wanders too far for me to focus anymore.”

Spoke the voice, I followed it to find a short old man. He wore a leather apron with tools sticking out the front pocket. What drew my attention was his face, a large mousey nose and his round spectacles looked like an inch thick making his eyes comically large.

“Apologies if I am interrupting something but I have this receipt for a book that was brought by my father’s lawyer.”

“Ahh, you must me Arthur’s son. Welcome my friend, sorry for the appearance, I was working on another book right now. So lets see the receipt.”

He took the paper and murmured to himself, “yes, it is ready but I would have to ask you if you really want the book. The mad Arab’s writing has driven a number of people insane and I would not want that to happen to you. Your father thought it held some answers he needed but it seems that was not the case.”

I looked at him for a moment and told him that it would seems that the path I am on now continues that journey. He looked down again and shuffled off to the back again to, I guessed, bring the book. I held on the volume I found and looked further if there was anything else I could see and there nestled on another shelf was a yellow cover book. I read the spine “the King in Yellow” it read and I slowly backed away as I had heard about this book in my travels.

The owner it seems saw me back away and coughed lightly to snap me back, “wise choice, that book is the same in what you are collecting. I have this book also that may help you translate the ramblings.” I saw on his had was a small book which I took and added to the one I held on to. He saw it and then looked up at me, “that book may have some answers but you must understand once sold I will not accept it back. The only reason I accepted to repair the Necronomicon was because the damage result of my father’s work.”

I nodded and placed them on the counter near the door, he stepped behind it and fished out a package wrapped in black cloth I took as cotton. Unwrapping it he explained his repairs and what I needed to do in order not to damage it further. I was in awe at the look of this book, the cover looked like normal leather yet he told me it was made from the skin of an unknown person. It looked ancient and I was even scared to hold it. Paying for the 2 books and stowing them away in another bag I brought I asked about Innsmouth and his expression became dark.

“That damned place should not have been allowed to exist in the first place. Your father mentioned that you have business there, well I hope you aren’t going there with this book.”

“Uhh no, I severed all relations with that town. Honestly I feel much better doing that, it feels as though a curse had been cast on that town.”

“Curse? Hmmph, more like a dark blessing. I had to travel there for my father once and after I left I vowed never to set foot there again. The order was still being set up and anyone from outside would be treated like pariah. I was lucky as what I went to do allowed me some protection, their holy scripture they called the Scripture of Dagon needed repair. I did that left just as quickly, no need to stick around or else they might just keep me there.”

I thanked him and left the place, walking out with my bags I looked around and walked the way I came. Finding another taxi I decided it would be better if I should find a hotel and get some rest before I ventured any further.”

I remembered my grandfather saying that there was a hotel called Holmes Grande, I decided that it would be better to stay there where my name is known. And known it was, I got a suite and the best treatment. I staid there for 4 days before leaving, I needed to be in New Jersey should Markuson called.

Reading and deciphering the book I was astounded by the madness that was put on paper, this Alhazred seemed to write about celestial beings that defy imagination but nothing on who were the followers. I turned to the other book and in here I found something, it spoke on locations on this world where their power was more focused. This world is not theirs but still they try to control it. I needed to meet an old friend, Wilmore. He was a theologian at Miskatonik, if anyone who knew about this he would and I have not the brain to work all this out.

Taking a bus all the way New Jersey was tough once there I did receive the note from Markuson, he managed to get a hold of the bank manager and he was held up so another 2 weeks. I decided I was not going to wait and replied that I would be in Arkham should he wish to contact me further. Gathering my things I left for Arkham, getting on the bus again to make my way I sensed that I was being followed. It turned out that I was becoming paranoid after reading the documents and books, laughing at myself I silently I sat back and looked out the window.

In Arkham I made my way to the University to look for Wilmore. I was informed that he had retired in the intervening years and was now living alone. Getting his address was easy as the staff knew who I was, once in hand I was about to leave when a glass display caught my attention. In side was a book, in fact it was a copy of the Necronomicon. I enquired about it and the librarian told me it was an original copy of the book, when I asked if I could have a look she turned me down saying I would need permission from the university head to do so. I left it then and waved my good byes went my way.

Wilmore lived just outside Arkham in a suburb, the house was quaint and out of the way. Kind of place he would like when I used to talk to him, I made my way to the front door and knocked. At first there was no sound from within but after a few more louder knocks a voice came from within and a figure made its way to the door. I could see this as there was a frosted glass panel on the side. Wilmore opened the door and looked surprised to see me, I greeted him and asked if he could help me. He stammered a reply and asked if I could come in, all the while his eyes kept darting around behind me as if looking for someone or something.

In side the house it was dark and the furniture was old, I sat on a small sofa across an armchair that Wilmore sat on. “Well, I came to you because I need some advice and maybe a solution to my plight. My family may be a patron to the university and this town but it seems that the roots are in another place and a taint follows me because of it.”

Wilmore looked at me critically and spoke “I know your family and also know that any one who speaks against you will be silenced. So forgive my guarded nature.”

“I am the last Hawthorne from the looks of things and there is something I found in my father’s procession that keeps leading me in circles. I was told that the Hawthorne name is a cursed one by my mother and now I carry it in my blood. I want to be done with it but also finally set the record straight.”

I know I did not mention this earlier but now it seems like the best time to talk about it. My father lost his mind and, in the process, also squandered the family fortune on a quest to lift a curse, he did not make any bad investments but rather spent them on a fools journey to rid this curse. From what I understand, the Hawthorne’s are cursed suffer even in death. Our souls were sold long ago to some old god for the prosperity, now my father understanding this decided enough was enough after seeing how my stepmother suffered in child birth and subsequently died along with the twins she was to deliver. My mother came into the picture much later, she was just an act of desperation, and I was the result. Though she was not cast out by the old man he did see something in me that may have kindled a light as after I turned 10 he took over my stewardship. My mother however contract a lung disease and passed when I turned 12, she was my light and kept me on a straight path. You, Mark, were the other person who kept my feet on the ground which is why I sought you out.

The suffering they talk about is not as simple as I can call it that but its this sense of drowning in a dark pool every time I sleep. I learnt that the only way to avoid this was to keep a sprig of rosemary under me tongue, I have no Idea how that works but it does for me.

Now back to Wilmore, after hearing what I had to tell him. I could see him visibly relaxing, “finally I am free also. Sorry but your grandfather and your aunt were the 2 people who made you I was followed and anything I did was reported directly to them. In fact there is a person who is usually standing just 2 houses down looking at me place, that is who I was looking for when you came.”

I recounted everything that had happened to me till that point and he listened with his head sunk in silence. After I finished to looked up and asked if he could see the Necronomicon copy I have before he could talk. I fished it out the bag and gave to him, it was wrapped in the black cloth, turning a few pages here and there it seemed that he was looking for something. “I see, this is an exact copy of the original translation. Not English unfortunately for you but i feel you tried to read anyway.”

I nodded and gave him the letter with the key to translate. He looked at it and nodded, “well this is a good start but unfortunately for you this will be a monumental task to understand. What I can offer you is a translation I did a long time ago when the university was still in circulation. But let me explain what I know before I get he notes.”

“The Hawthorne’s aren’t cursed nor is this suffering because of a bargain struck. You see your family descended from one of the pagans that fled from the church to the Americas back when this place was still a wilderness. In starting a life here, they also found other gods to worship. The old ones who were looking for more followers may influence them and thus a cord was struck. You see the gods I am talking about here are either in the void of space or in a lost city under the sea. I explained this to your father once and that may be why he secured that copy. What I did not understand is why he would try and reverse the course of all this, see you may not understand but look at this way. Have you seen anyone in your family, apart from your stepmother and father, suffer unless they have done something they should not have?”

I mentioned my aunt and he tilted his head slightly at this and a puzzled expression came on to his face, then I also explained what happened to my father and grandfather as a result. All this he listened in silence again and sat back after. Looking up at his shelf on his left he got up and brought out a box. Setting the box down onto a coffee table he brought out a large note book. This he handed to me, “this is what I translated, for the figures you will need to cross reference them from the book. It seems that this is all I can help you with here. The path forward is yours and if you want my advice, I suggest you start by looking for the markers mentioned in my translation.”

I took the notebook and opened it; it was legible and I could finally understand what the damned book would talk about. “He was not called the Mad Arab for nothing, he may have travelled all over Persia and the Arab world but whom he spoke of… well even I would not call that name out in greatest of fears.”

“I wanted to explore further into the world of these sleeping gods but I know if I did I would lose everything including my soul. Your father asked me to help but just after my meeting with him your grandfather came in with a simple request that a veiled warning. So I kept out, I wish you luck and hope that you can lift this curse.”

This was disheartening for me, everywhere I went I could see a glint of hope it would turn out to be false gold. I was loosing my sense of direction. I so got up, gathered my things mumbled my thanks and just left. It was all a blur to me, nothing made sense and here I was trying to find a needle in a field of hay. I walked back to town and sat down on a bench that looks at the church in Arkham. It was there I saw something that finally made some sense, a disc similar to the one I destroyed was above the church door. I knew I had seen it and it was then I sensed that there was someone watching me though I could not figure who or where this person was. I got up and walked closer to the church and it was there I saw him, it was an employee my grandfather kept near him most of the times, he was like a bodyguard and caretaker. He stood a couple of blocks away and kept looking at me. I ignored him and got closer to the church and tried to get a better look, it wasn’t one of them it was smaller with the image of Christ. I turned to look for the man again and he was gone, i turned to look in other places and he was gone. Relief washed over me and I decided enough was enough I need time to go through the notes and see what I can do.

I took a taxi to the train station and left for New Jersey.

At New Jersey I finally took some rest and went through everything letter by letter, nothing could be missed. I bought a notebook for myself and made my own notes to follow, time flowed and finally I understood. The markers were not doors or gateways but directional points of navigation, they were placed there by the ancients in hope that one day someone would finally use them to herald the way for the one gods to return. Well sort of, the stones were just stones and it needed a sort of sacrifice of souls to give them power to work. I found from the notes my father made (which I got through the lock box in a bank in Boston which I forgot to mention), it seemed that he was also in the same train of thought but what alluded him was the process and locations.

The process was harder to find and it was not part of the notes, still I managed to find a professor of antiquities in New York who was able to point me to the direction of a historian in Turkey who could get me the information I needed. I could not travel that far so wrote a letter asking for information. In that time Markuson reached out again and let me know that there was some trouble in Innsmouth and he would have to wait longer before he could enter the town. I replied to him asking him to be careful but make sure to retrieve the items and right now I needed them. I used the waiting time to track down other things but nothing. It was like someone anticipated my path of inquest and tried to cover all points of interest and veer me away.

I carry a pistol ever since the Innsmouth visit and did not know that I may end up using it, it was a Sunday and it was pouring down where I was. I unwisely decided to visit a diner further away from my lodgings and I was getting frustrated by the isolation. Walking in the downpour I say a dark figure walking parallel to me on the other side of the street, I hastened my pace and the figure did the same. I was getting agitated and decided to cross the street and confront the person, it was the old bodyguard and he lunged at me.

He grabbed me by neck and tried to trip me. I grabbed his hand and collar to prevent this and because it was slippery we both went down in a heap. He tried to claw at my face while I tried to choke him, then I raise my fist to punch him. He pushed me off and tried to get away, I grabbed his leg to prevent that. In doing that he brought out a knife and took a swipe at me, fell back and he lunged again for me. Instinctively I reached for my pistol and before I could think I fired, the shot rang out like deafening crash in the quiet street. He fell back from the force and clutched at his shoulder dropping the knife. I slowly got up and he was already doing the same and trying to run. I called out to stop but he instead picked the knife up and tried his attack, I fired again and hit him square in the chest. He fell back and remained still, I was breathing hard and doubled over and threw up. The street came alive with lights and people calling out, some announcing that the police are on their way. I stood straight and looked around to see, it was still raining and knew that this might work for me. I thought better and waiting under the shade of a doorstep for the police.

After some time they did come and I held up my hands, the officer was an older gentleman who saw that I wasn’t a threat asked me what happened and I recounted the incident. He looked over to the dead man and moved over to check for an ID. Just as he reached out he recoiled, calling me over I too finally got a good look at the dead body. There was no doubt in my mind this fellow was from Innsmouth, his eyes were larger than normal and his skin was grey and clammy. He told me that he has never seen such a person, another police car arrived. The rain was not a light drizzle so I stood back while they called for an coroner van to take the body away. I rode with the first office to the police station and there they took the pistol as evidence and also my statement. I was asked to collect the pistol after the inquest on the whole situation. I had no choice but to oblige, they did however let me know that I can get another if I needed.

Back at my lodgings I took a shower and decided to just get some rest. The bellboy brought me a letter and it was from the Turkish historian, he was interested in what I wanted to know as I had outlined the discovery of the markers and asked if he would assist me on this matter. I immediately got to writing everything down for him and asking if he had any contacts that would know of such a marker in the Persian area. Once that was done I had filled 15 pages with writing and drawings, packing all of it I decided to take it in the morning. Looking out the window it was already showing signs of dawn and my body began to ache. I drank 2 shots of Whisky and decided to sleep and send this later.

I woke up to a knocking at my door, I checked the time and it was 3 in the afternoon. Slightly groggy I opened to find the officer at my door, I let him in and he took stock of my room. “Sorry to wake you, after what you went through in the night I would be a mess. We tried to identify the person who attacked you and it seems that the FBI were also interested. An agent came by to find out and went through all the statements and they took charge of the body. Now I need to ask, are involved in anything I should know because my boss thinks we might be in over our heads?”

I shook my head, I told him a short account of where this person may be from and what my relations with that place were. At the end of it he looked a little doubtful of the account but he seemed satisfied, “well if your story is anything to go by its better to let the FBI folk handle this.”

With this he added that my pistol was also part of the things the agents took so I will need to get a new one anyway, he gave me a letter of clearance (or something) to enable the fast track of buying a new one. He left and I got dressed and left for the post office, the papers in hand I decided to send them via express mail, I needed answers.

Once the posting was done I made my way to a gun shop, I picked out pretty much the same model and paid for it, the letter I gotten proved to be useful as the owner just took my details and ID number and released the pistol to me.

I decided to see if I could find some more information from the documents I had while I waited. I took a whole 2 weeks to get back and answer and it was astounding, the historian seemed to be excited to find me as he sent me no less then 100 pages of information. In all the shared information I saw that there was a note on the Vikings also being part of the worshippers and that is where I found information on this site. I sought out a name of anyone here who could help and I found another historian by the name of Jónsson. I got his address from a professor I knew at the university and wrote to him and ask if he any knowledge. Again things started to look up and he also replied then he knew of the place and if he had the funding could go and investigate. I asked how much while outlining what he needed to do when he was there. I guess the ecstasy of finding something new overtook caution. I should have gone to him first rather than wiring him money first. I was a fool to put him and his team in such danger, now I know better.

Knowing the danger of this escapade I decided to look for you and see if you will help me and here you are. I am sorry for what you had to see and experience but I hope the rest of the way will not be so troubling.

End of Hawthorne’s account.

I looked out at the horizon and saw that Hawthorne had relaxed a little, the horses also seemed to be more relaxed and they were trotting along more easily. We reached the town and Hawthorne did all the explaining to the local police as best as he could, the police were also aware of the quaking from the area and said that they will send a few men to investigate. We found lodgings in the town and waited for the report from the police, last thing we wanted was TO BE WANTED by the police. It took a few days and in that time Hawthorne was totally engrossed in the information he had, we hardly spoke and I took this time to really get some rest and re-focus my mind. The policeman came back to us after 3 days, using a local to translate he informed us that we were luck as the area had basically turn into a sink hole, the ground gave way and what remained was a tar pit. Hawthorne genuinely looked sad at this news and wished his friends knew about this before they tried to dig. The policeman also shared this sentiment and let us know that it will be reported as an accident and we were free to leave. In order not to raise further suspicion Hawthorne asked where he could find transport to a shipping town and was informed that the fishing boat could take us but would have to wait another day or two, he agreed and we remained. While waiting I took it upon myself to write all this down so as to keep track of everything. Hawthorne had shut himself in and continued his research.

After 3 days the said fisherman’s boat arrived and we were granted passage to Reykjavík, it took a days’ worth of rolling around in the boat till we reached there. Once in town we booked another passage but this time to Norway. Hawthorne turned to me and smiled, “you will have tales to tell after this my friend. The ladies will last thing to worry about.”

I did not smile, I was still trying to figure all of this. Once on board a passing ship I was able to relax a little but still trying to understand what I have become part of, this whole macabre journey was not something I would have been part of had I known but it seems it was now part of me. The less I cared to think of it the worse it gnawed at me, still I found my self playing with the pendant I got from my father.

My father, he was a broken man after he left the job as a butler. It was all he knew, and knew well, even though it entailed him to study people and learn more about everything. To his final day he never spoke against the Hawthorne’s and did now allow me to do the same. Never took to the bottle to look for solace only worked harder to keep himself from thinking too much, I saw a broken man in him but at the same time saw something that was akin to fear, fear of what I did not know and did not ask. After I finished my degree and found some work I felt like he had finally felt like it was time to rest. I did not allow him to do that fearing that it lead to sickness but still it something he wanted. I supported him as best as I could and for a time it worked till his body finally gave up and I watched him fade, in the last few days he handed me this pendant and told me to hold on it. It was an iron coin type thing but since it was part of our family I kept it as a memory. Now it seems that it was more than just a memento.

As I tried to focus on what was going to happen next I decided it would be better to ask this time rather than get a rude shock like what happened before. Hawthorne was in his cabin going through all the papers again looking at some and discarding others, muttering to himself in some incomprehensible way. Knocking on the door did nothing to wake him from his studies so I decided to call him, this woke him and turned to look at me. “Well old friend you look better today, I see the moment of calm has helped a lot more. So tell me to what do I owe this visit?”

My words were having some trouble coming out but finally I asked “in Norway, what are we going to there?”

He looked down for a moment then at me, “honestly I don’t know. The whole reason I decided to go to Norway was because there is a scholar by name of Franz, he (from what I was informed) runs a bookstore in Oslo. Nothing big but from what I am told its where my copy of this cursed book may have been. So he may be a link I need to explore further, I feel terrible for having you witness the grisly scene at Iceland but honestly I wished I just explored it myself rather than ask for help.”

I sat on a stool in cabin while I thought of what to say but then just left it fleeting in the wind. I then looked out the pothole and watched the sea rise and fall getting glimpses of the ocean below. “We may just end up visiting some boring old shop and catching the flight back home. What I may find home on the other hand may be disturbing but there is little I can really assume at this moment.”

Hawthorne talked while looking out the same pothole but it seemed that we still had a journey to complete while only taken 2 steps. I looked around to room and it was a mess except the bed, I asked if did get any sleep and he laughed, saying that his store of morphine was over reminding me of my horseback journey. He could not sleep as he feared the nightmares would drive him insane, seeing some old face staring at him from the bottom of the ocean or somewhere.

I told him about how I would see the same scene in my dreams but more vivid, the depth making me feel like I was floating in the air. The fear and the weight of the place I was in and also the presence of something following me and at the same time holding my leg down. The dread of not knowing if I will wake sometimes drove me not to sleep and other times I would sleep without a dream at all. Still the dark lurks in the corners of my mind now and with what I witnessed that darkness feels like it is alive and throbbing in the corner of every room I am in.

We finally docked at Oslo, Hawthorne paid the captain and asked if he could find us a taxi or someone to take us to the location of the bookstore. Like a couple of children we had to rely on the good will of people as we were strangers in this strange land. The taxi we got was driven by an older gentleman who spoke little only informed us of the amount we will owe on arrival, the drive through the city was a treat for a person who has lived primarily in New York, clean roads and buildings and there was order in every block of the city. I was amazed that such places existed, in New York people were everywhere and if your attention wavered for a second you would loose your pockets. Hawthorne looked like he had seen this place before and was more interested in the streets we were passing, looking at the signs as we passed along. His notebook was open listing the names of the road and buildings, I was later informed that this was his way of remembering where to go should we ever get lost.

We arrived to the street where the bookstore was and Hawthorne paid the driver, the driver let him know in broken English where to go and left is on a moderately busy street. There were the normal people just walking to where they needed to get to and not bothered with 2 weary tourists. Hawthorne looked at the shop we were to go to and started for it, I followed heaving the rucksack on my back. It was a little heavier as there were a few more things that we collected from Iceland were also inside. Hawthorne carried pretty much the same size but his contained the books and papers he would continuously pour over. The Bookstore was smaller than what I was envisioning so it took me a minute more to register the place, Hawthorne looked in before trying the door. It opened and a ding of a bell could be heard as he opened the door wider to enter.

Inside it was warm and musty from all the books and old paper, it felt comforting for some reason and I felt more relaxed here than outside. There was an old lady who was sitting behind the counter and seemed busy with sewing the spine of a book which I went closer to see, “they repair books here from the looks of it. All the best book finders repair the books themselves it seems, maybe so they don’t have to worry the person who is repairing the book will mess or miss something while working.”

The old lady barely registered our conversation and kept at the stitching and other than that there was not other movement within the store. I looked around and at the books and from what I could see most were in every other language except English. Hawthorne was doing the same except he would pick a book, read a few pages and return it while keeping an eye out for the owner. The owner was a younger man who finally showed up.

Mr. Franz looked at Hawthorne and then to me then back again like we were a couple of animals who blundered into his store. He was a tall man with a bushy moustache wearing an oversized coat, he looked more an explorer than us. “Can I help you young men, I apologise for my mother she is deaf and does not bother to look up when she is working.”

“Its quite alright, you must be Franz. I am here because there is a book that passed this store and I was wondering if you could give me some information and a supplementary book that I found out from an acquaintance.”

Franze smiled at this and held out his hands, “trying to remember which book I sold is much harder than you think. Please tell me which book is you are referring to so I can try to remember.”

“The book is the Necronomicon and honestly its not a book even a normal person would forget, let alone a book seller, and there is some information you may have that will help me immensely.”

Franz’s eyes grew dark and he put the book he was holding onto a pile near him, looking at his mother for a second he motioned us to follow him. I dropped the rucksack placed it at the end of a shelf and Hawthorne did the same, we the began to follow Franz as he walked deeper into the store.  We emerged from the store at the rear of the shop, here Franze lit a cigarette and offered if we would like one. I accepted as the cold was biting me but Hawthorne waved them away.

“You must be looking for the person who bought it from us, for that I will apologise in advance as my father refused the money so there was no record kept of it passing this place. So there is very little I can help you there.”

“I understand, that book is like a sickness that will not leave. The information I am looking for is not who but where it came from and if possible I am looking for another book by an author who may be able to shed some light on why this book even existed.”

Franz listened to Hawthorne and finally asked if he was looking for the treatise of Hastur. Hawthorne nodded, “Sorry that book never existed, it was mentioned by an archivist who was driven mad when trying to find the library of the King in Yellow. How you managed to find that information is a feat of it own but honestly what the archivist wrote is much worse than the book you are carrying. Still I can give you something, a monk who travelled in the times of the crusades discovered a sort of sunken temple in Italy and where exactly I have no idea only that it was in the southernmost part of the country. What he saw there was never officially released but a protestant working in the library smuggled out the papers to sell. I have copies of the same but honestly I wondered why even bother.”

Hawthorne perked up on the reference to the sunken temple, he nodded when asked about the copies and asked how much was Franz asking to part with them. Franz named a price but also mentioned that the language used was harder to decipher so not to get his hopes up, Hawthorne smiled and said he will see what he can do. Finishing our cigarettes we walked back in and the mother was still stitching the spine of the book and did not bother looking up. Asked Franz about his father and he said that the old man was not well as the weather does not agree with him so it was better to let him rest.

He asked us to wait in the front while he would go and look for the papers, Hawthorne took this moment and opened his rucksack to fish out the book and some papers. I sat on a stool that was near the door and looked at my friend who seemed to relish at the revelation of some new information. A while later Franz returned with a beaten box in hand, it looked like it was tossed about and was weathered with torn edges, he placed it on a central table for Hawthorne who took a moment to look at the box and turn it around as if it were a precious artifact. He opened to top to look at the pages within and here he almost jumped at what was inside. He dug in his ruck sack to bring out a bundle of notes to pay for the pages. I peeked at a few pages lying on the table and could see that the writing resembled the Necronomicon’s ramblings. Franz had seen the book also and looked at me, “that book had brought more madness into this world than I can think of. How my father came to possess it I don’t know but I was happy to see it leave and now it returns even if it is for a moment. Please for your sake I hope you never bring it back here.”

Hawthorne was too busy looking through the pages, while I decided to speak to Franz and find out more of what I have gotten myself into. “I have seen a lot of things that I do not understand and this book seems to be at the centre of it all, tell if I am loosing my mind but the world just seems darker than when I lived in New York.” I was fiddling with my pendant as I spoke and Franz saw it, “that thing you are playing with may be the only thing that is keeping you safe. I have seen another type of that thing before and holder of it is no longer alive. Keep it close but remember this, even the old pacts will not protect you from the old ones if you decide to wake them.”

I was left shaken by that statement by Franz, I looked to Hawthorne who was still going through the papers. My throat was dry and needed something to drink, I picked up the bottle of water I had carried and took a mouthful then again still I felt like I was dry. The world spun around me and then suddenly it went blank.

I woke but not exactly where I should be but more a dark world, the colours were swimming around me and I felt as though I was at the bottom of a lake or something. The shades of blues and black made the world look like a moving comic page, I was in a cave. The rock walls around me were porous and when I tried to reach out it was like the walls moved. I tried to steady my self and I looked for a way out, up was out of the question as the light was filtering from cracks. Swimming, I thought, how am I swimming and able to breath underwater. This is a dream, but it feels real. How?

“Wake.”

I was startled but the call, I looked around. I swam forward as that was the only way, it was like swimming in a snake’s belly. The path way was winding but did not feel like a maze, when I tried to hold the walls they moved. When I tried to cheat and swim in to them it felt like I hit something solid.

“Wake.”

The voice again, it felt immense. Like the figure behind the voice may be like 200 ft tall or something.

“Dream. End.”

What? I thought, what is happening. I look up and there I see the eye. A massive dark eye looking at me like I am an ant. Unblinking, ever present eye.

The water around me began to shift and it began to move, the rush of water from under and around me shoved me in all directions at once. Then I really woke.

Water burst from my mouth as I woke, I choked, coughed and vomited water. The rush of all this almost made me faint, Hawthorne held my back and tried his best to keep me up and pat my back to help air back in. Between breaths and coughs I asked what happened.

“You passed out old friend, it seems that whatever had been haunting me decided to come to you. Don’t worry about it right now, just focus on breathing now. You were drowning in it so I had find a way to wake you.”

“Thanks…” is all I could say.

I was informed by Hawthorne that after I had passed out, Franz called a neighbour to help him bring me to a hotel Hawthorne had booked while we were in Oslo. At first I had looked like I just fainted from exhaustion but after seeing water seep out of my nose and mouth Hawthorne had to figure out a way to wake me and the only way he saw was to shove my pendant into my mouth. It worked but my throat was cooked from the sudden ejaculation of water is such a force, I could not speak so wrote down anything I wanted.

I asked Hawthorne where we were going next and relieved to find that we were heading back to New York. I was taken to a doctor for a check up, the reason they gave was that I ate something I should not have and drank a little more that, again, I should not have. The doctor gave me questioning look but accepted the excuse and told me that I have a cold and should drink hot soups for a few days to get my strength back.

A flight is a luxury but honestly I would prefer this mode of travel better than a rolling ship, the seats were comfortable and the food much better. It took us roughly 12 hours to get back home which I could not find a reason to complain about. Seeing the world from eyes of  bird brought back the child like innocence I had when looking up at birds wishing to see what they saw.

In New York Hawthorne had rented an apartment nearer to the central park so it was much more upmarket than I expected. Hawthorne then shut himself into his room like a hermit and continued his studies. I took this time to revisit old haunts and friends that I kept, they were surprised to see me and I told them about my journey (leaving all the occult things) and they regaled me with their stories which felt even better as a boring life of work and sleep felt like an old comfortable blanket to me.

It was 2 weeks since we returned from Oslo and I hadn’t bothered my friend with any questions other than if he wanted something to eat. I finally gathered my courage and decided to ask him what he had found. Entering the room felt like entering an oven it was hot inside, the curtains were draw and the fireplace was roaring away. Hawthorne was crouched over his desk reading something and writing at the same time, I saw that his room was a total mess with clothes thrown all over and the bed looking like a war was fought on it. “Jude, I came to ask if managed to find something.”

“That mad Arab was much worse than when he was called. The temples, oh the temples were buried deep within the sea. The people who…” then he turned and looked the fireplace. “Forgive me, I seemed to have drowned myself too much in this world. What I thought would be a simple incantation at a specific spot has become a hunt for a god.”

“A god? What do you mean by that, are we hunting Christ or someone?”

“No no no, these gods were there before our world began and will still be there after. Hidden in a space of mind they sleep… ah forgive me again. I am rambling, I need a to really rest and re-think this matter.”

I told him to take the extra room and sleep, he agreed and took a vial or morphine to help him. I asked if I should just straighten this room and bring some order to the chaos, he accepted with some reluctance but knew better than to argue. After he left I took to the curtains and opened them, the light was bleak as it was November but that light brought some life into this dead space. I poked the fireplace to help it die down a little more while I attended to mess that was his desk.

The papers from Oslo were everywhere on the desk, there was no order on them so I did what I could and gathered them. The book was open at a specific page I recognised from before and I took a moment to study the archaic drawing. I hesitated for a second as my hand hovered over the book, the pages were yellowed with age and they were full with writings and drawings. Slowly moving my hand closer to the drawing I studied it, it was detailed but the shape and glyphs matched the one etched into my memory. That memory then took shape in my mind and I immediately closed the book, the force raised some dust from the pages and I almost feared that I broke something. I dared not to open the book again, that was a memory I never wanted to explore, though I would have to mention it to Hawthorne as it seems that he may be in the same thought.

Cleaning the rest of the room did not take long as Hawthorne had a habit of wearing the same clothes for days on end if allowed, I sorted the few that were there and placed them near the front door for housekeeping. The windows could not be opened as it was closer to winter right now and I dare not let the cold air in. Once done I had a checked on Hawthorne who was in deep sleep and I sat next a window overlooking the park. Sipping a glass of whisky I ruminated on all that had happened and thought where we will be going next, in all this I slowly nodded off and woke when a hand gently shook my shoulder. I looked up surprised to see Hawthorne’s face, he looked much better and had a smile on his face. “You looked like you needed the rest as much as I old friend.”

Hawthorne took a chair next to me and sat down, it was already night so the streets below were lit up and movement a little less. Still I looked down at the moving cars and people, there was still an energy that pulsed from there, “I wished many times I could be like them, minding their own work and keeping to the lines drawn by society. I thought I would have been one of them but it seems that it was for naught.” He looked up at the grey sky and sat back, he eyes then shadowed at some thought that may have caught up with him.

“I… I saw a drawing in the book you left on your desk.”

He woke from the revere and looked me inquisitively. “It was a drawing that I had seen before, I don’t know if you remembered, and it brought about a flash in my mind. I have seen it before but only a handful of times. If you remember the old mausoleum that was in the Asylum that your aunt was taken to. I remember this as my uncle was taken there when he went mad from brain fever. It was carved into the place where inmates were buried.”

Hawthorne’s eyes lit up, “yes, I remember. I was taken there by once. Hmm… let me remember where it was exactly. I was informed that the asylum was closed a few years ago by the government.”

I was tasked to go to the library and see if I could dig up the archives pertaining this as Hawthorne went about his own avenues to find more information. It was closer to 7 pm so I had to wait till the morning to do this so I decided to have a drink with my friend while we waited for the unwelcomed sleep and its broken dreams.

“You know something Hawthorne, your aunt was in that place for a year because of her manic moments when she screamed about the visions of your grandmother asking her to run. I remember this because my father would discuss this with my mother when we would be sitting by the fire after dinner. What really perplexed me was that when returned she said she was cured by my mother told me that in order not to dream those dreams she had to drink some sort of dark liquid that caused her to sleep like a corpse.”

Hawthorne looked out the window and nodded, “I did not know her well and even when we found ourselves in the same room I did my best to avoid her attention. She was a witch who wanted to have me thrown from the family. It was only the intervention and threats of the old man that we was kept on a leash, I remember after my father died she hounded me through her lawyer into signing off on what was given to me. So I mourn only my grandfather in all this, my mother I still feel the loss but she wasn’t there to really protect me like he did. I mentioned that I visited the old house before venturing forth, what I did not mention was that the library was emptied by the family lawyer, I tracked him down and found out that he hung himself after a bout of madness. All the books that I treasured were sold off by the family except a locked chest that bore the family crest in which I found a letter from my grandfather to my father. I talked about the curse that would bring an end to the family if he, my father, did not pay back the debt owed. What the debt was I do not know but from what I am seeing I know it will end in blood if I am not careful.”

The fire crackled in the fireplace as we both sat in our own envelope of silence, the wind outside wailed and the night just seemed darker tonight. The time ticked away in the corner and slowly the crawl of sleep came in. This time I feel as though whatever was haunting me could not pass the fog of whisky in my veins as I woke it was morning and Hawthorne had made a start of it. He had left early to gather his side of the puzzles while I was left to mine.

Getting ready to visit the library I was alerted to a ring at the door, I made my way to it and called out to the visitor and enquiring who it was. There was a muffled answer and looking through the peep hole I saw it was an old lady, I cautiously opened to see it was an old lady indeed. She was dressed like an ordinary person from the streets but there was something in the eyes that was unmistakable, she was from Innsmouth. “I was sent ‘ere by a friend to deliver this. Said you would pay me 10 dollars for this.” I asked for a moment while I closed the door to look through my pockets for the amount and opened it back to see her still waiting outside. I gave here the money and took the envelope, she looked at me then the money. “Good thing you left the town, things are getting worse for the folk there. I hope I never have to go back there, the fools at the church are making a mess of things.” With that she turned and left. I stood there wondering how she even passed the front desk below, still I opened the envelope to see that it was from a Hackshaw.

 

Hawthorne,

I heard you passed by the town and handed over the cannery to the foreman. It was a shock to me as I used to work with our grandfather and father before him. Still you would not know me but know this that it was good that you cut all bonds with that town. I am dying and wish that I leave no secrets behind so here is my last confession.

I am William Hackshaw, like my father before me, worked for your family in fish processing factory. We used to dry fish for shipping to other states before the canning process was brought. Innsmouth was never a prosperous place to grow up but it was better than what we heard all round. Your great grandfather was an honourable man who paid his workers well and did not work us to the bone. It was until Dagon finally came to our doorstep that things changed, the fish would rot even before we could dry them and the sickness followed.

My father told me that a bargain had to be made for the factory survive, we may be part of the town but our operations were more for trade with the outside but still. The trade was that one of your family members had to be sacrificed for this to happen. What that sacrifice was my father told me that the god wanted them to be cast out to sea as payment for the factory to continue working. Your grandfather had an elder sister who was chosen against her will to be the one cast out for the sake of the factory, she was bound in chains and taken to the marked spot in the sea. It was your great grandfather, grandfather and my father who made the sacrifice, she was thrown in screaming and cursing to the ocean and they watched as large fish like being took her. The light that came from the bottom of the ocean illuminated the place like it was daylight and a great roar was heard coming from the place, then a deep voice began speaking in some old language to them. My father did not understand this but it seems that the father and son did and all the blood from their faces was drained. A gust of wind blew rocking the boat almost tipping them over from the open sea and it was over, my father was sworn to secrecy over this and because he was made part of the bargain had his bouts of bad dreams after. He confessed all this to me before he died from fever and I did not hold any weight to it until I retired myself from the job as a foreman. I began re-living that night over and over again in my sleep.

If you are reading this then I am dead, my daughter who now bears this curse may have delivered this to you.

With my conscience clear I surrender my soul to whomever may claim it but know this I paid for my fathers sins and will you, I hope you fare better then I.

Signed William.

 

I looked at the letter and kept turning it over and over trying to see if there was a hidden message or something. This was unbelievable I know Hawthorne would want to see this personally, so I hung up my coat and sat back and waited for my friend.

Dagon, a name I was not familiar with seems to follow me like my friend around and it seems that I have no knowledge as to who that is exactly. Then again I am still in the weeds about what is really happening around us.

It was 2 in the afternoon that Hawthorne finally returned, he looked like he had no luck in finding anything about the Asylum. I gave him the letter, he has down near the fire and read it. I took my chair and waited hot him finish. I smoked a cigarette while I waited and it seems that he may have read it over 3 times before he finally looked up and at me.

“It seems that our journey may lead us back to that blasted town. No! I will not go back. I still have one more lead, I will…”

He stopped and looked around, then turned to his room. He got up and almost ran to the room. I could hear him riffling through the papers and knew that I would have to clean up again after this but I was too invested in what he was looking for. I slowly got up and followed him, upon reaching the door we almost ran into each other, “HA! I have it, oh! Sorry old friend, forgive me. Here look I have it.”

He handed me a page with another diagram that contained drawings that looked similar to the book. I looked up at him blank as I did not understand them, “sorry again, this is a description of a temple in Antarctica that I found last night. From the looks of it, it may hold the final place where I can rid myself of this curse. If I had that confession earlier, then I would not have had to drag you to that place nor would I have lead to the death of so many.”

So Antarctica, a place that I never dreamt I would ever go.

“I think its time we closed this adventure and finish this journey where its supposed to have ended. I need to finish this matter before it finishes me. That is not exactly a temple but more a gateway and from all the maps and charts for some reason they keep pushing me there. I would have preferred to go to Innsmouth to see if there is a reversal of all this but I am afraid news from the town are much worse.”

I looked him questioningly and then the thought occurred to me. “Wait, how did the daughter or whoever it was found out about our lodgings?”

Hawthorne’s eyes grew in size and ran to the room. He started gathering his pages and other things, “quick Mark, gather your things before its too late. I think my request on the Asylum may have roused more than a queries. Quick my friend we must leave.”

I moved to my room and I did the same, I had fewer belongings and was ready to go even as my friend was still half way through his. It was then when we heard a bang at the door and then a thumping of the door. There was shouting and more bangs, Hawthorne joined me at the front door with his pistol in hand. I lifted his finger to his lips motioning me to remain silent. Slowly moving forward he looked through the peephole, it felt like an eternity as he stood there motionlessly looking through the glass. The noise outside had subsided and it was dead silent, the only sound was the wind outside the apartment and quiet ticking of the clock.

I slowly put my bag down as my should was becoming numb from the weight and no movement. Making sure not to make a sound I moved forward and was almost to reach Hawthorne when he raised his hand to stop me on my tracks. He took a step back and raised his pistol, then with a thunderous bang he the shot pierced the door. The crack echoed all along the apartment and it felt like I would become deaf from this, another eternity passed as I stood in stunned silence. A thump finally echoed across from the other side of the door and Hawthorne took a step to check through the peephole. Satisfied he reached down for the door, my hands clenched and began to  crouch down to make a run for it in case I needed to. Opening the door revealed a figure slumped on the ground, he was clutching at his chest where a crimson river could be seen flowing from. He was still breathing but barely and Hawthorne took this moment to peek out and see if there were any others. Satisfied by this investigation he gingerly stepped over the dead man and motioned me to follow again. I moved to follow while eyeing around for a weapon of my own as I felt naked being without one right now.

Stepping over the dead person I beheld another, and this one looked like the security guy who patrolled the floors from time to time. This was disturbing in many ways, it looked like we were now being hunted by the order in Innsmouth as they were the only ones who were willing to send such a murderous set of individuals. “Let us gather our things and leave, I confess that it will get worse before it gets any better after this.” Hawthorne quickly returned to the apartment and began gathering his things, I stood at the corridor looking at the dead Innsmouth man. His eyes were just as large as Hawthorne described them to be, this corpses’ eyes were glazing over with the milky sheen and his elongated mouth was open with a slow ooze of blood trickling out. I turned away and looked at the security man who lay near the stairs up. Feeling for a pulse I was nearly thrown back he was alive just that being thrown in such a violent manner may have just stunned him, I wanted to wake him but knew it would be better to let him sleep it off here. I dragged him from the place and laid him closer to the window at the end of corridor in case he woke up, looking around I found that his club was under the table and picked it up and placed that next to him. I then turned to the corpse and decided it better to check his pockets for anything we could find useful. Hawthorne let me know he was almost done and that we should leave as soon as possible, I answered back that I was ready. Picking through the pockets I came up to a piece of paper with a message scrawled in, “Kill both men, leave no chance.” That was all. I was puzzled at the same time as horrified as it included me. Taking the note I looked further but found nothing else, there was a large knife next to the body and it looked rough like it wasn’t cared for.

Getting up I took stock of what I found and made my way into the apartment and picked my rucksack, I mused for a moment that all my possessions amounted to just this bag, I was a nomad in this world and I guess in a way it was better that I have nothing to leave except this story that few will believe. Looking up I saw Hawthorne coming out of his room with his suitcase, he looked like he was ready to run, I nodded to him and we left for the elevator. As we waited for it to come to us, I asked “Antarctica, how do you even know what is there?”

Hawthorne smiled at me, “ I will tell you once we are somewhere safe. Right now this is the last place we need to be.” The elevator arrived and out came another security person, he looked at us and then the scene behind us. “You need to stay here, we have already called the police.. wait is that Jones, is he”

“He’s just knocked out but thus thief, listen officer. We need to leave, the police will make things worse for everyone. All you need to say is that we were never here and this guy was shot by our friend who passed out after firing the shot. Here take this, if the police ask just say he was asked to check the apartment by you.” The security guard took the pistol, looked at us and nodded. The thing about the apartment staff was that they were under instructions to maintain our privacy  and if there was a way to do this with minimum exposure they will take it.

We took the elevator to the basement leaving the guard to tend to his sleeping friend, at the basement the guard looked up at us in puzzlement as no residents were allowed to come unless there was an emergency. “Sorry my friend, but you may have heard about the commotion in the apartment 5, well I am the resident and I believe there may be a another waiting for us at the reception. Please let us leave through the back so we may avoid any undue trouble.”

The guard still stunned by this pointed us to a door in the far end. We made our way to the indicated door that let to a se of stairs leading to a side door out of the building. Stepping out, I took a deep breath of the frigid winter air and stood for a moment to gather my thoughts, all this was scrambling any clear line of thought I had and it was becoming overwhelming. Hawthorne looked more the same as he looked around the street for anyone who might look suspicious but at this time of night everyone was suspicious. Still we made our way to diner that was a couple of blocks away  from where we were, on the way a couple of police cars rushed by and we could see that the apartment building was lit up from all the commotion. “I would say that place was a better place to be in than a hotel, at least they will give the police credible stories to keep them from sniffing too much about us.” Hawthorne looked up at the apartment and then turned to follow me as I kept walking, the cold was beginning to bite, as coming from a warm environment to this cold night was a shock to my system.

“Lets gather our thoughts at the diner and see where to go from there. I suspect we may have to find our way to New Haven as I know a captain who will help us.”

I said nothing and just kept walking. I was angry as this was not what I had joined Hawthorne for, I was cold and now hungry. Getting into the warmth of the diner I asked the waitress to give me a cup of coffee and ordered a steak dinner. Hawthorne asked for just coffee and a ham sandwich. The diner was pretty much empty as it was 10 in the night, a customer was sitting in a booth further away from us and it looked like he was asleep. We sat further away from the door in a booth that was out of sight from the street but still gave us a view of the door. I sat down heavily and let out a heavy breath and then tried to stow my bag away, Hawthorne in the other hand fished a notebook from his pocket and began to read, I decided that now should be the time to push my luck and find out what is actually happening and where does the antarctica fit in to all this mess.

“Hawthorne, you were telling me about that Antarctica?”

He looked up at me and closed his notebook theatrically, “fine, if it will please you then here. This is what I heard and read about from various sources that included Markuson himself. There was an expedition taken by the government in 1908 with the help of a society I have never heard of to map out a section of the South Pole as there was a story that a lost city was found by a whaling crew and the US needed to be the ones who took control of this discovery. As you know if there is any gold or technology to be had our government will be the ones to control it.”

“So this story is actually told to me by an old ship mate who I knew as Bill Pegtoe, don’t ask me how he got that name.”

 

Bill’s Story.

It took roughly 5 weeks to reach landfall, the trip was long and absolutely tiring for the crew. Most of the land folk kept to themselves so we shipmates had the deck to ourselves. There was a military ship following in tow but they were like have a floating barge at the rear.

Once we reached the godforsaken place it was our duty as workers to unload and set up camp for the soft hands to complain and moan about. I almost punched one of the idiots for complaining that it was too cold to even breath and why can’t we build a bigger fire for them. Honestly if it weren’t for the soldiers on shore there would have been a massacre of science people, they called themselves the greatest minds America has ever produced. My mate Kirk had itchy fingers and a knife he really wanted to try on flesh so I had to hold his hand from doing what I really wanted to do myself, we were being paid a years wage to accompany these science people so we did as we were told. Our captain did not like it one but either but what really scared him was that the place were on was said to be cursed, he heard it from other sailors before him and they mentioned a mountain in the distance they called Devil’s Back what with the spike like hills that jutted out the hump like mountain.

We staid on the ship and every 2^nd day we would sail out to the open sea to fish, supplies were brought in every 2 weeks from an outpost our captain said was a forward base for the military or something. So it kept the men sane from just sitting around doing absolutely nothing. After 3 weeks I was called to the bridge by the captain, he told me that myself and another sailor named Freidman were to go ashore and help the science people to mount an expedition into the land. I asked why me and the captain replied that I was in better shape and could hold my temper better, “look I don’t like it as much as you but for the pay I will not question it, besides I managed to get you another 1000 dollars for the weeks work.”

1000 dollars was a lot of money for me so I agreed and also promised to stay my hand. Friedman was an odd man, I never met him proper till we were on a boat for shore. Not a word was spoken between the both of us as we rode the boat and never once did he even try to engage me in talk, so I kept to my own council as I preferred that better, and once ashore I was assigned to accompany a few people on a sleigh with supplies. We prepared for the ride and made our way to the said place. We were going to Devil’s Back, it was more than a day’s journey and from what the person with me said “all information gathered points to that range of hills, hopefully we can finish this fool’s expedition and be back home.” I smiled for the first time at this man, he was called Lex.

Lex was my only companion as the rest of the people would keep to each other and avoid all contact with me, the soldiers included as they acted like I was some sort of diseased dog. Lex had to balance both sides of the camp but he seemed to be doing fine, Friedman on the other hand seemed to be in his element as he moved freely among the soldiers and sciences. We slept in make shift tents for the night and despite covering myself with 4 blankets I was freezing, the others had some sort of hot air pump that was powered by a windmill and their tents were better constructed. Still I endured and we moved on, it took us 4 days to reach the base of the mountain and this is where for the first time I felt like I needed to leave immediately. The air was thick with a feeling like weights on my chest, any movement I made felt like I was swimming in thick water and you could see that with everyone. It took us a full day to set up camp and even then we had to sleep for an extra day just to feel rested, I was given the task of carrying some equipment to another place where they said was a cave entrance. I did that without question and followed the folk, the so called cave looked more like a crack in the wall of the mountain. The Mountain, now that I mention it, was not exactly a mountain more like a large hill that had large protrusions that bore the namesake and the tips looked like spikes being that they bore no snow and were bare rock. My sense of direction kept getting muddled around this place and I felt like there were eyes everywhere watching me, the winds felt like whispers of some distant people which I could not understand. I was scared but could not show it, the soldiers were really nervous and kept asking the sciences to hurry up.

The cave entrance, as I mentioned, was triangular and looked like it hadn’t been explored in a long time. We entered and Lex had to light flares to enable us to navigate, I followed with heavy feet but followed nonetheless. Inside the ice felt warm rather than colder and the deeper we got the warmer it felt for some reason and when I looked around for a better view the ice had thinned to the point I could see the rock behind them. I thought we would see the drawings my mother would talk about when I was little in such caves but they were plain and the snow under our feet gave way to stones soon. We may have walked for over 3 hours and I was beginning to feel the weight of my pack and asked if I could take a few minutes to rest, I was sweating which was odd and when I thought about it I was also feeling like a boiler was shoved into my coat. I removed that coat and gloves to help the blood move again and could see everyone was doing the same, so we rested for a while and ate some rations. Lex was talking to me about what we may see when I deep rumbling was heard and felt, this woke everyone up from their rest. We scrambled to the walls thinking that the ceiling might give way but nothing not a single stone moved and cautiously we all gathered our belongings and decided to go deeper. Lex mentioned that it could be the ice deep in the hill may be shifting or something.

After a long time we came to an opening and my jaw fell, it was big like we could fit the ship in the space and there would still be room for 2 more. It was much lighter than the trail to this place as the ice in the ceiling was bringing in light from the outside, how that was possible no one could explain and what baffled the crew was that there was a pool of water toward the centre of the chamber. I made my way to the pool as it had wisps of steam coming out from it and I wanted to see what was at the bottom of the pool, the surface looked like there was something moving around under the surface but we could not see. The closer I got the more it seemed that there were currents under the water than anything else and seeing that it was clear just added to that observation. Standing at the edge I could not see more than 10 feet down as it just kept going deeper from the look of it and I was in no mood to jump in to see how hot it was either.

Lex who had decided to join me bent down and examined the pool better, the movement kept rippling but as soon as Lex got down it stopped and we did the same. I looked at Lex and he slowly rose and we backed away from it, this meant that there was something at the bottom though we cannot see it. The others also sensed this and one of the others mentioned that there is another passage we should try and explore, this place was giving me the feeling that there were eyes on the walls and they did not want us there. We made our way to the other passage while keeping clear of the rivulets of water that were either flowing out or into the pool. I looked back the pool and it resumed it movement under the surface, and it did not make me feel any better, we will still have to pass this place when we went out. The passage was a winding one like as if we were walking further down the place and many of the science folk said that this could be an ancient temple or something like, I did not pay attention to them and wanted to leave but because the money was good, I stuck it out. After what felt like hours, we reached the bottom of the passage and from there it opened to another larger chamber that looked huge and it was marked by a passage that looked like a stone bridge.

At the end of the bridge was a gigantic figure, I don’t know how to describe it and honest to God I would be blaspheming if I did, this place maybe the gateway to hell if I ever knew any better. The other were mesmerised and wanted to proceed, Lex on the other hand stopped them and said that it would be better to set a base camp here before proceeding. He wanted to know how this place had light when it was so deep and why there were no records of this place before. I stuck close to Lex as now it seemed that he had a better head on his shoulders, the other listened to him as they knew reason was better than blindly walking into the abyss. The place were stood was roughly half circular and it gave us a good place to set down some equipment, I carried many of the rations as the others said I may damage the fragile things. I was too happy to carry something I could use in case we had to run, after setting down the bag and removing some of the outer clothes I felt like I could breath better. I stood at the mouth of the bridge to have a better look at the building on the other side, it was like 12 storeys tall even in this underground place, the light that shone from above the head of it made it look like a frozen god. I was fascinated by the look of it, the head was like that of a squid and there were places for 4 eyes on either side of the supposed head that looked like they were closed. The body looked like a normal person sitting on a chair looking down at us, I could not help but keep studying the statue before me.

“And Lo! He sat on this throne deep asleep waiting for the day his followers to wake him from the deep slumber. In dream he reaches out to them calling them to his throne to witness the wake and final judgement of the Great Old One.” Lex spoke as he stood next to me, he smiled when he said that. I looked at him and asked him where he had heard that, “I was expecting something like a city below the ice but this, this I did not expect. From what was learned from accounts of this place I can only surmise this that this may be where mankind started from. When we shrugged off our fins to gain hands and feet. This could be the greatest finds of our time or maybe we have found the final gateway to our own hell.”

I looked at my new friend in horror as it dawned on me, this is the god the damned Innsmouth fishermen would sing about. I had heard this from an Innsmouth man I happened to fish with  once and thought him mad now it made sense. I wanted to leave immediately but I could not as I was bound by my word. I was tasked to protect the camp which was better than running so I agreed and they proceeded to move closer to the temple or figure. The used lamps to make their way across the stone bridge, Lex being the first to test the strength of the bridge and the rest following him at 6 feet intervals. As they moved across the bridge they looked like stars floating on a starless sky, slowly they made their way to the thing.

It took them 15 minutes to cross the bridge and I was at the entrance with a rope that was fastened to their waists in case the bridge did collapse, once across the last person tugged the rope 3 times to signal me to tie it and wait. I sat and watched the faint lights of the people dance in random way as they studied the walls and the look for a door. We may have been there for 6 hours of which I had something to eat and almost fell a sleep waiting. Then I heard it, a deep rumble of something coming from the abyss below the bridge, it was as if something immense waking up and the ground also shook. At first it was a faint shake then the second rumble came up and the ground shook violently, the lights across the bridge began to move erratically towards the bridge. A tug from the rope let me know that whoever it was on the other side it was coming. I picked the rope and held on all the while looking to see how many lights were coming across, the light in the cave was bright but because of the shadow of the figure the bridge was not illuminated well. The rope began to strain as if whoever it was on the other side wanted to pull me over to them, I did not  want this so I let go and the rope tightened and strained against the pillar I had tied it to. It was straining and just like a flash it broke and the broken rope was pulled to the otherside, there were screams now coming from there and my blood ran cold. It was like as if they were being tortured or something like that and there were foot step of something large making its way across the bridge. I did not wait to see and I picked what I could and ran into the passage we had come from. I ran with nothing but fear in my mind and the walls were a blur as I kept running and when I reached the pool cave I knew I had to avoid the pool. As I entered the cavern I saw the pool was like a geyser, water was rushing out of it and if I waited any longer I may find out how hot the water would be. Running along the perimeter of the cavern I made my way to the passage. I kept running not minding how cold it was getting or how tired I was becoming, I ran. Once at the mouth of the cave I fell to my knees to breath, my chest felt like it was on fire and heart pumping like an engine. It was all a blur but I was happy to be out of that infernal place and when I finally calmed down I gathered myself and tried to get the sleigh and what equipment I could carry back to the main camp. When I reached there the commanding officer interrogated me with one of the big science people, I repeated everything to the last detail and they knew I was not lying because the other team also has not reported back. That is where I learnt that we were out the trail for over week. From that I felt it was only 5-6 days only but the exact count was 12 days!

 

Hawthorne sat back after reciting this and took a sip of his coffee, I had all but finished my dinner. We were in the diner for roughly 2 hours now and the person who was there before had long gone, I asked for another coffee and a piece of pie. I asked him if he wanted to go to the same place and he said there was not other recourse but from what he had gathered from other sources there was no better place to close this adventure as he put it. I countered this by reminding him of what happened to the scientists who went there first.

“They were there without knowledge of what they would really find, I know this because the people who were there before them returned to document what they saw. And yes the people who did come back from there were part of the order of Dagon, the diary I got the information from is sparse on the journey but one the fact they mentioned is that you need to hold the token of the old one before you. We both have the token of Hastur, that was because unlike the Innmouthers my grandfather had to make an additional deal with a stranger in yellow to keep Dagon from driving us mad. I found that out yesterday from Markuson, he unfortunately was attacked and as was in hospital in New York so he managed to send word to me through an old contact. In conclusion, either way we need to go there and finally end this charade.”

“How?” is all I could ask.

Hawthorne looked at me with tired eyes and from the looks of it even he did not know. I paid for the meals and we left into the night.

It took us 2 weeks to get to New Haven, even though it was a short distance away, the need to stay within the shadows outweighed everything else. Hawthorne mentioned that Innsmouth was having trouble maintaining order from within. Whatever was happening there it was affecting our movements and I found myself wondering when we will be able to see some peace. Hawthorne looked worse for wear as he ate less and kept referring and re-reading the books and pages in hopes of finding more on where we were going to. I could see that time was getting short for us as every shadow now felt like it would leap out at us, stories on what was happening in Innsmouth were hard to come by but a telegram from a friend, whom Hawthorne kept me in the dark about, would arrive every other day at a specified place in New Haven. Once we reached New Haven I found that a number of telegrams were left for my friend at the hotel we were to stay, I did not stay there but a booking was made and imaginary keys were handed out to the residents. Hawthorne took the telegrams and we hurried to a pier where he told me that a boat was waiting for us, I asked who was the person waiting and I did not get an answer only silence.

At the said pier I followed Hawthorne through a maze of walkways, many private boats and finishing boats were there. Since it was February right now the cold was still holding the cold so fishing was at a minimum and so were the normal holiday makers. One after the another I kept following my friend, he looked like we were being chased by a demon. I too felt like that and kept looking over my shoulder hoping to see nothing but expecting another fish eyed freak with a gun running towards us. Finally after 10 minutes of wandering we reached a rough looking boat that had the name “Fore Wind” painted on the back. An old man came out to greet us and Hawthorne visibly looked relieved to meet him, “Mark meet Jerry, he is the brother of the sailor I spoke about. We will be using his trawling ship to go to Antarctica.”

I shook Jerry’s hand but did not smile and neither did he, we both looked at Hawthorne who seemed more distracted by the number of people in the area. “Lets be off then Mr. Hawk, my brother left enough instructions on how to outfit the ship for the journey and also a skeleton crew. Can’t say I am too happy to sail with only 5 men but you’re the boss.”

“Yes, yes Mr. Jerry. Unfortunately time is no longer a luxury we can afford. Please lets be off from here I know I had give more time to prepare earlier but it seems that the winds have changed and the people your brother warned us about are being pursued themselves.”

Jerry seemed to understand what Hawthorne was talking about and he untied the boat from the pier and we began sailing to the open waters, I looked back the port and could see a few interested people on the port but none that roused any suspicion. Still I kept my eyes on the port as we sailed and still nothing, Hawthorne was in the same frame of mind but as we reached the open waters we both joined the captain and we sailed to his larger ship. “The ship isn’t much but she is strong and will get us there. Are you sure you don’t want us to wait near shore after dropping you off?”

I looked at Hawthorne in puzzlement over this statement, he looked at me with pursed lips. “No Jerry, the place we are going to may take a few days to resolve and also there is a cabin within the area where can stay in case we need to wait for you.”

I wanted to ask Jude what was going on but held myself. It seems my fate was sealed like his and whatever happens next……

 

The rest of the notebook is illegible as water has damaged the ink. We tried to see if there was a way to salvage anything but it bore no fruit. What follows are the last few pages that were covered in a jacket and seemed to have been written in haste and fear given the shakiness of the writing. Our request to investigate the mentioned places in the letters were not granted as the areas marked for discovery are said to be restricted by the US and Russian governments. Further investigations on the earlier missions conducted resulted in 2 of my staff being arrested in Washington and another deported to his native country of Germany. Whichever civilisation or gods built the temple there it seems they have many governments fearing their discovery.

 

The cabin as Hawthorne mentioned was in rough shape but it was all we had. I only had my rucksack and from the looks of it so did he, all the papers and books he had were sealed and shipped to someone I was never made aware of and neither did I ask. I set my bag down in the only room that had four walls and a roof to set up camp and set about looking for anything to help start a fire. The captain was adamant in just dropping us off on this strange shore and leaving, the payment for the journey was enough but after hearing from other captains of this place he did not want any part of the voyage. Hawthorne for his part tried his very best to placate the captain just enough to get us here. Finding little to no usable wood or other burnable materials I did what I could and set up a fire and sat in the room. It was not exactly a cabin per say as it was just 2 basic rooms, the front room was where most of the damage was. The left corner of the room as you enter had caved in, the weather and neglect had done the damage. I used wood from the damaged sections to fuel the fire and some clothes I no longer needed to start it. The room we rested in had a window that I boarded up with the front door, the room itself was bare. No furniture was left by the previous occupants, if there were any, and because of the neglect the roof just about held but for how long I hope I do not have to find out this night. He did not speak a word instead he sat near the fire brooding over the journey ahead. I took this moment as finished of the little brandy I managed to stow away and used my bag as a pillow to get some rest. The morning would be interesting and till then rest was the only thing I cared for, rolling around in a boat was far less restful than you would expect, what with almost falling out of bunk a few times.

The dreams I had been having all this journey stopped and I could feel the cold creeping in to my body. The dream of swimming at the bottom of the sea or lake did not return only now it felt like I was swimming in the stars above, I could feel the cold and silence. The endless ocean of stars and drifting clouds of space smoke. Then I felt the presence, the cold presence of something in the distance, it called to me and I felt my very being pulled away. A cosmic battle what being waged in me and then I saw the colossal thing, it was like a immense rock or ice object but in a black colour that shone so bright while being darker than the blackest of inks. I was mesmerised by this and could not stop myself from being pulled in, the voice then called out to me.

“Impudent trespasser, why have you come here. Harken you fool here are you old gods whose names you have forgotten and whose children are those you now call your own gods.”

The voice was louder than anything I have ever heard and it did not even pass my ears but it woke me up from this in a complete shock. I shot up from where I slept and started to look around for my friend, he was not there and I felt a panic rise up from my stomach. Where in all that is holy was he, I tried to get up but it seems that the rest of my body was slow to respond. I looked around for his bag and could see that he left it there. Relaxing from this I tried to bring the fire I had made to life by tossing a few sticks that were drying near it and blowing slowly to give the embers some help. Soon the fire was back and I could feel the life creep back into my body. Hawthorne had abandoned the fire and left me to freeze from the looks of it. I waited till I was sufficiently warmed and would try and find him, the wind outside was not as strong as I would have thought only that it was quiet and this left me unnerved. The cold was there but it felt like a normal winter chill, this was not possible as the old sailor who was with us told us that the cold here would freeze a sleeping man in minutes if he was not careful and winds were like a thousand fists looking to know you off your feet should not be wary of them. As I was warming myself I heard a creak from outside the room and I froze, I waited to see it was Hawthorne and indeed it were him trudging in looking like he saw a ghost.

“I saw them, the people who swore fealty to Dagon walk out of the water, I saw them walk to where the temple is. I think we are where need to be but I fear that we walked into a trap my friend, please forgive me but it looks like we may not return.”

I looked at Hawthorne and it was then I heard the voices and sounds of things walking around the cabin. God help us.

 

This is all we found. No complete account of the structure ahead save for the description given earlier and given the fact that no permission was possible to explore the indicated area we hope that in future we can try and see where this place mentioned is. From what I have been told by a fellow explorer, Dr. Ahab, the temple may have a connection with the ruins we found at Sarnath.