“Can you understand, Mr. Hasrad, how fantastic and incredible a phenomenon it was to see in such a place? There was something indefinable and utterly unnatural about the sight that chilled me. Hitherto I had been actuated by pleased curiosity; now I began to feel an intense fear, and I actually trembled at the sight of what I thought to be rising smoke or fog. But I continued to wait, crouching at the edge and peering down at the depths where the flashlight rays seemed to tenderly caress and melt within the ascending horror.
“It kept on and on, stopping for a few seconds now and then, not behaving at all as would rising smoke. I don’t know how I had the brainless, unthinking audacity to crouch there and watch that thing inch its way up the passage in the glare of my flashlight. Suddenly I was trembling through and through, my heart was pounding as though it would smash through my chest, and my mouth was dry. Such was my response to the masses of matter composing that thing.
“Then, something seemed to click in my mind and I realized I must somehow halt its advance. I picked up assorted rubble littering the floor with my free hand and hurled it down on the pulsating mass. This had no effect, as the stones passed right through it, plunging down that seemingly bottomless shaft. The horror continued upward, and like a crazy old fool I waited, bent over the pit, my flashlight spraying into the depths as I watched that incredible monstrosity rise ever closer.”
Alan barely stirred, his attention riveted upon the professor whose voice began to quiver as he became more troubled and unsettled.
“And then it reached the rim of the shaft. Nonplussed, I remained frozen at the spot, watching small tendrils poke up tentatively into the chamber and begin to probe and undulate about. With them rose an unexpected odor of mustiness which soon became overpowering in that narrow space. My hand was but inches away from one of the reaching tentacles, and when at last it touched me I finally moved. No longer was I stricken by the paralyzing fear which had seized me. I remember screaming once; then, squeezing through the opening to the chamber I had made, I dashed through the outer cave and into the sunshine. I scrambled up the embankment and ran till I lost my breath and fell to the ground, panting as though I had just run the marathon! A few minutes passed before I finally realized I was out of immediate danger.”
Fletcher stopped abruptly and stared at Alan. His jaw muscles stood out with tension as he relived in memory the anxious moments he had described.
“And that, of course,” Alan prompted, “was not the last you saw of it?”
Fletcher pulled his gaze away from the flames and began to reload his briar once again. His mind seemed to suddenly be preoccupied. “Eh? Oh, yes. I learned of the mysterious depredations about the countryside and I knew—I realized with a terrible certainty just what was behind them.”
Alan gazed upon the gaunt, angular countenance of his new acquaintance and reflected as to just how much he should tell him of the awful suspicions that had been crowding into his own mind. Was Fletcher bordering on the brink of insanity or total collapse, as Alan at first had feared, or was there a hidden strength present that would sustain him when he learned of the awful suspicion Alan held?
Alan decided, relying on his intuitive judgment, that the fortitude of this man would probably endure the strain of the esoteric knowledge it was in his power to relate.
“Dr. Fletcher, you were right to invite me here, and I do believe I can assist you. Unless I am greatly mistaken, we are dealing with an intelligence far older than mankind—indeed, older than planet earth itself. Although it has never been an active force within the history of man, its existence is mentioned in various ancient volumes, the most notable of which is the Pnakotic Manuscript brought down to us from ancient Hyperborea by a secret cult; and the Necronomicon of the mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred, devotes brief passages to it. It is from this son of the desert whom I happen to be descended. I’ve also read of this entity in various translations, inexact as they might be, of the Eltdown Shards; also, mention of them is made in the De Vermis Mysteriis of Ludvig Prinn and the Sigsand Manuscripts which Robert W. Chambers consulted so frequently. The Cuites des Goules, written by the Comte d’Erlette, makes brief mention, and laconic notations in von Junzt’s Unaussprechlichen Kulten gives us even further hints. From some place in space this hellish entity was spawned and, after traveling from galaxy to galaxy, reached earth when our planet was but a seething, bubbling, coalescing mass.
“In the elder books it is written as to how this presence, which you know to be inimical to mankind, was imprisoned deep within the ebony bowels of the earth by several of the Elder Gods. Now, it seems, that which held this entity imprisoned has been removed, and a new horror is now free to terrorize the lives of mankind.”
“But its purpose, Mr. Hasrad?” Fletcher interjected with a nervous query. “If it is intelligent, as we both believe, surely it has a reason for its nightly presence.”
Alan smiled firmly at the noted paleontologist. “Of course it has a purpose. It is feeding.”
“Feeding?”
“Exactly. My guess is that it is still very weak, having remained dormant for countless millions of years, and needs nourishment—an attribute of all life forms. Since being released, unfortunately by yourself, it has gradually been building up its mass and strength by suitable repasts, keeping in hiding during the process, starting with the smallest of creatures and progressing each night to the larger. In some inexplicable way it must be gaining sustenance from the protein it has consumed during its nightly foraging. It seeks to grow, to expand, to regain the mountainous strength of near galactic proportions it once had. And then…
“And then?” Fletcher urged.
“And then—for mankind—it will surely be too late. Earth would be devastated, totally stripped of life, before it moved on to other planets in distant galaxies.”
Fletcher’s face was a study in stunned consternation as the magnitude of Alan’s revelation registered in his thoughts. “Is there nothing to be done?”
Alan wondered. If they acted now, while this intelligence was still in a state infinitely weaker than that which it once had known, perhaps it would not be too late. Then again, it might already be invulnerable to anything man might do to stop its advance. If only…
“We can try,” he returned. “We must try, and hope, and not consider the consequences if we should fail. By tomorrow morning it will hopefully have returned to its lair. If it still considers itself weak it will probably continue to seek sanctuary during the day until it is strong enough to openly find its sustenance. To its lair then we will go and somehow attempt to render it harmless.”
An amused smile played over the features of Dr. Fletcher. “Much in the manner one would destroy a vampire, eh, Mr. Hasrad? Strike while it is dormant!”
“Exactly. But this is no vampire, Dr. Fletcher, and the tools to be used will be different and far older than the traditional mallet and stake.”
“Tomorrow then,” agreed Dr. Fletcher, rising to his feet. “Let us retire for what remains of the night and pray to God or whatever guides the fortunes of mankind that tomorrow sees us reach a successful ending to this atrocity.”
“Amen,” affirmed Alan, rising to his feet and following his host to the guest room which had been readied for his use.
It was still dark outside, with just a hint of dawn emerging out of the east, when Alan awoke from a restless sleep and aroused his slumbering host. Together they looked out the window. The deadly mist had already begun its retreat before the coming light. No longer was the house enshrouded by its ghostly essence. Much still remained about the cottage, but no longer enough to pose the threat it had but a few hours before.