|
|
What is left of my long-time friend, Richard Gavin, lies upon the floor at my feet, his body little more than a shapeless bag of bloodless pulp. His drained corpse covers that bloodstained book, the accursed Blood-Rituals of Rhylkos. Would that it had really been destroyed in the fall of ancient Rome, when the historians recorded that it had been lost to the ages!
I do not really know just how to tell this tale, so I guess I'll try to start at the beginning. It all began when I was invited - no, urged - to stay at my friend's mansion set deep in the forested wilds of northern Wisconsin. I don't even remember when he telephoned now, for I no longer have any definite perception of the days leading up to this very moment, but upon receiving his call I drove over without question to Wisconsin the next day (after gathering some rather peculiar books he had asked for, which I promptly wrapped up securely and brought with me) from my own home in Braving, Minnesota. I remember thinking that Gavin wouldn't be calling me just to re-initiate a long-overdue friendship - he must have had something important on his mind. Just what that could be, however, I couldn't imagine, for Richard Gavin had a very different set of priorities from the norm. He being a serious student of the occult, I recalled we had dabbled in some pretty outré stuff when we'd roomed together at Royceton University in Braving not quite ten years ago. In fact, our "experiments" with ESP and the paranormal had nearly had us expelled! It was to Richard Gavin's credit, however, that he'd been able to net himself a small fortune by way of those same experiments a few years after graduation. Never mind that it had once again been amid scandal, for Richard had never been one to tread the normal byways of life...and I dare not say more concerning that!
I stopped for gas in Ashton, the town nearest Gavin's country estate, and the old station attendant seemed friendly enough. He asked me where I was from. I told him.
"Braving!" he exclaimed, "oh, yes, a wonderful city! Been there a few times - pretty good-sized burg." He inserted the fuel nozzle. "Don't s'pose you think much o' our little town, eh?" The old man spat upon the ground as if for punctuation.
"Actually, I find it very refreshing," I answered. "Big cities get very impersonal. There are just too many people and too much crime, no one gives anybody else the time of day," I complained. "I would guess all the people hereabouts are pretty friendly, even to strangers?" I asked, just to make conversation.
"Yep. As a matter of fact they are." He spat again. "Say, young feller, where you heading for anyways?"
"A friend invited me stay with him for a few days," I replied. "He lives a couple of miles from here."
"Oh yeah? Who is he? I prob'ly know him."
"Yes, maybe you do. His name's Richard Gavin...we went to school together at - "
But I didn't continue, for at the mention of my friend's name the attendant's kindly smile turned into an angry grimace.
"That's enough gas for you!" He snarled, abruptly withdrawing the nozzle from my gastank. "We don't wanna help out any o' his friends!" He spat it like it was poison on his tongue.
"What are you talking about?" I asked, bewildered by his reaction.
"You heard me," he growled. "Now get outta here!"
"But what about the gas I owe you for? I - "
"It's on me," he cut me off. "Now get on your way, mister, 'fore I sic the dog on you." He indicated a Doberman gnawing on a bone at the side of the garage. "Get him, Butch!" He yelled gruffly. The dog rose to its feet in an instant, hackles raised, and jumped at me. Being a brown-belt in Shorin-ryu I instinctively delivered a kick at the dog, stunning it, then bolted for the car. Jumping in, I shut the car door just as the dog recovered and reached the car. It clawed frantically at the window as I started the car and kicked it into gear.
Cursing fitfully under my breath, I tore out of the service station and gunned it down the road toward Richard's house. But my mind was racing, I was confused. Why was the old man so incensed at the mention of Gavin's name? Sure, my friend was a bit eccentric, especially since he was so into the occult side of life, but lots of people believed different things these days, what the freedom of religion and all. I decided that perhaps these backwoods Wisconsinites were more close-minded than most folk.
I drove another few miles, until I came to the winding driveway leading up to Gavin's mansion. It was the spring thaw, and I nearly got stuck several times on that muddy track, but I got through and pulled up to the house at last. It almost looked like a long-lost set out of one of those old Atlantic International Poe movies as it loomed over me like a hawk hovering over its prey.
Richard was outside by the garage waiting for me (he lived alone, deeming the use of servants unnecessary to his own chosen lifestyle). I pulled intro the stall he indicated, got out and greeted my friend warmly as we exchanged pleasantries.
He had changed greatly since I had seen him last. His hair, never worn very long at all in his youth, was noticeably longer, rather unkempt. He appeared much slimmer, even wasted, to the point of gauntness. I inquired of his health, but he just waved my concern aside, blaming his condition on a persistent flu which he'd finally beaten just a few days ago.
He helped me carry my bags upstairs to the guest room - although in the light of his emaciated condition I took the brunt of the load myself - and showed me where I could freshen up. Afterwards, he led me down the hall to his book-jammed study.
"I'm glad you brought the books I asked for," he said, indicating the wrapped parcel under my arm.
"Sure, anytime," I replied. "It's the least I could do for an old friend. And you can keep them as long as you like. Their use is usually rather restricted, of course, but Royceton's closed for the spring break now, and anyway the head librarian's a female friend of mine." I smiled.
He laughed. "Ha, ha...the same old Walt I knew back at Royceton! Bet she's 'stacked' too!" He guffawed. Then he turned serious as he unwrapped the parcel I had given him with trembling fingers. He read the titles of the books aloud as he laid them reverently down upon the desk: "Cultes des Goules, the R'lyeh Text: Fragmentary Transcriptions, The Confessions of the Mad Monk Clianthus, the Altuan Book of Non Amya," he breathed excitedly. "And this, the crowning glory, the Celaeno Fragments, translated by Laban Shrewsbury himself!" He nearly shouted at this last. "Wonderful, Walt, wonderful!" He calmed down slightly. "Walt, do you have any idea what these books are about?" He asked, indicating the pile he'd stacked with utmost care before him.
"Yes, I think so. They concern black magic, don't they?"
"Well, not exactly...but you have the right idea." He smiled.
"I'm glad they please you so, but I'm not too interested in that field myself," I answered truthfully. Having accepted a position at Royceton as a professor of history, I'd necessarily had to tone my interests down to those more down to earth. "Our experiments with psychic phemonena were one thing, but come on, Rich - demons!" I laughed nervously.
"The Great Old Ones are much more than mere demons, my friend," he chided me...then he shocked me with what he asked next.
"But being a professor of history, you must have heard of ...the Blood-Rituals of Rhylkos?"
The Blood-Rituals!" I gasped aloud. I shuddered involuntarily as I recalled naught that was wholesome concerning that nauseous bible of the blood-mad god of the Void known as Uvhash. Countless blood-orgies of the decadent Roman Empire were attributed to the worship of this foul demon, and it was rumored that even the terrible mad emperor Caligula himself owned the vampiric feaster as one of his unspeakable sponsors!
"Yes," I answered my friend slowly, "But I thought Marcus Antistus swore in his Clavicule Cosmographum that all copies had been destroyed?"
His answer surprised me. "Antistus was a good wizard, and his Keys to the Cosmos was a masterwork, but even that Roman centurion-turned-magician and practitioner didn't dare reveal everything! He laughed mockingly, and produced before my eyes a slim crimson-bound folio. It was, of course, the notorious Blood-Rituals, and I shudderingly recalled rumors concerning a murder-cult that had been based around Braving a few years ago. This cult was said to have worshipped as icons such notorious serial killers as Bundy, Kemper, Shawcross and the anonymous Green River Killer, and had for their bible this selfsame volume!
Richard's voice brought me back to the present. "You've noticed I've changed, haven't you Walt? Read one page and you'll be changed too."
I was curious. Here before me in Richard Gavin's hands sat a legend! "May I see?" I asked sheepishly.
"No!" His vehemence was startling. "Not at night," he explained, calming down once again. "Wait until morning," he urged.
"Well, that's quite a find," I said, not knowing what else to say. "It must be too old to even handle, let alone read," I suggested.
"No," he answered, "it's imbued with some mystical force which keeps it from crumbling. Indeed, the book is impervious to fire, water, nigh indestructible.
"But as I was saying earlier, I want to tell you about the Great Old Ones. They inhabited this world once, before we humans evolved, but they lost their foothold on this fledgling Earth by practicing what you called 'black magic'! They were expelled by a much more powerful force of entities known as the Elder Gods, but are ever striving to reclaim our Earth, indeed the very universe once more.
"There are even some who remain yet on Earth, who escaped this expulsion. Great Cthulhu lies sleeping in sunken R'lyeh, ever dreaming of the day when the stars will be right and R'lyeh will rise out of the ocean deeps, and he will be released from his aeons-old imprisonment by his evil fish-frog minions; Nyarlathotep the Faceless howls in the darkness of the Wood of N'gai while wild beasts lick his hands in supplication; Ithaqua the Wind-Walker strides the air above the Earth while Lloigor and Zhar lie beneath the Plateau of Sung, ever attended by the faithful Tcho-Tchos, and so on."
As he paused in his speech I was left to my thoughts. It all seemed so impossible, so untrue, yet in the back of my mind I had my doubts. I steadied my shaking hands and took a sharp intake of breath, trying to calm my nerves.
My host must have noticed my anxiety, however, for he rose from his chair and strode over to my own. "I didn't mean to alarm you, Walt," he reassured me. "You must be exhausted from your trip. I'm going to stay up for awhile with the books you've brought for me and try to familiarize myself with their wonders, but for you I think it's time to sleep."
He led the way to my room and bid me good night, admonishing me to make sure the windows were shut tight and to lock the door.
"Why the door?" I asked.
"Just humor me, okay?" Was all he said as he walked down the hall to his study.
For some reason I regretted his leaving me alone in the hallway, for the corridor was dark and I had the strange sensation that some form of evil lurked nearby, not just something intangible but solid evil itself. I shrugged the feeling off with not a little effort and swung open the door to my room.
I walked in and flicked the light switch, but no lights came on to dispel the darkness. Upon further investigation I found matches and a few candles. I lit one.
After changing for bed I blew out the candle and lay down. I began to mull the events over as they had thus far unfolded, then rolled over and went to sleep.
I was awakened abruptly by a a storm raging outside. I looked at the illuminated face of the clock on the nightstand table. It read 2 A.M. I was about to try and go back to sleep again when I thought I heard someone shouting above the thunder.
I sensed that feeling of evil once again. Then I heard a sound, like someone or something ponderous was walking up the hall corridor toward my room. The sound was more like a lumbering pounding than a walking, and it was coming closer to my door.
I hugged the blankets to my chin as if to hide from something unknown and insidious. It was then that the stench made its presence known in my room. It was a noxious smell, which caused me to cough and sneeze uncontrollably.
The stench was nearly unbearable now, gagging and cloying. I got out of bed and re-lit the burned down candle. It was then that the lumbering stopped. It sounded like it was right outside the bedroom door.
An unreasoning fear came over me, like I'd never felt before, and I hastily blew out the candle. I stifled a sneeze. My heart felt as if it were ice as I heard something rattle the doorknob none too gently, and I was glad I'd locked the door as Richard had instructed me.
Whatever it was on the other side of the door stood there for a moment, for I could hear its rasping breathing, then it pounded down the corridor towards the study. I hastily drew on a bathrobe and opened the door slowly and cautiously. The thing was gone, but the stench it left behind was nearly palpable.
I heard shouting in the study at the end of the hall. It was Gavin's voice, raised in some kind of sing-song chant. I ran to the door but found it locked. Before I could knock upon it a sound grew in intensity on the other side like nothing I had ever heard on this Earth...a sound not unlike a hundred different animals screaming in pain all at once!
I remembered what my friend had said about the Great Old Ones, how some yet remained on Earth waiting for the time to come when they would resume their terrible reign once more. Was that what lurked beyond the threshold of the study?
I heard Richard's voice call out in a commanding tone. It sounded something like "N'lnemx Uvhash f'tanen c'fayak dhya!"
The inhuman howling stopped, and the stench dissipated. I beat my fists upon the door.
"Richard!" I called through the door in alarm. "What's going on in there?"
"Nothing," he replied after a moment's hesitation. "Now go back to bed, Walt, and I'll tell you all in the morning."
"Like hell you will!" I called. I kicked forcefully against the lock, shattering it, and I shoved my way past Gavin into the room. It was a shambles. Books, chairs, furnishings, all were scattered about in a state of disrepair. A window was broken, and rain had poured in, soaking the carpet. In fact, the only thing yet standing was a single desk arranged in the center of the room like some ceremonial altar. Atop it lay a book. I picked it up and read the title. It was the Blood-Rituals of Rhylkos.
"You've summoned one of these entities from beyond the stars, haven't you, Richard?" I accused as if I were scolding a petulant c hild.
"Yes." He hung his head. "It was a servitor of Uvhash himself." He sobbed softly. "I tried to stop it, to appease it someho w...but it had been sent by its Lord and Master to deliver a message to me."
He sobbed on as I went to the wet bar, which had also miraculously escaped destruction, and poured us both a drink. He continued.
"It told me that the blood-god would come for me...tomorrow night."
I can't believe I asked the next question."What - what did it look like?"
"It was...vaguely anthropoid, but humped and formless...partially immaterial...a seething twisted mass...I can't really explain it. You'd have to see it for yourself, I'm afraid."
Again I surprised myself. "Yes!" I cried. "Yes, I want to see it!"
A strange feeling had come over me. Perhaps it was the touch of something unknown and unknowable, perhaps it was the lure of the forbidden, or perhaps it was even a result of the onset of madness - but imagine being faced with the proof of some sort of life, however malevolent it proved to be, from beyond the stars! I wanted to see it, to communiate with it, to learn the occult mysteries surrounding it!
"No! I won't let you see it," protested Richard. "It is horrible beyond imagining, especially for one so unversed in the occult sciences as you, despite our experiments at Royceton." He muttered: "Perhaps if Uvhash had sent one of the Hounds...but no, they're really just as bad...if not worse...!" His face was grim now, fueled with malice. Then he relaxed and his look softened. "Walt," he apologized, "If you had seen it...it would surely have driven you mad."
I glanced again at the Blood-Rituals and asked him to teach me the details surrounding this fantastic Mythos.
Now he was surprised. He opened his mouth as if to protest, then his face brightened slightly as he seemed to be mulling over my request. He finally muttered, "Yes, I could use your assistance in helping me forestall it..." Then more loudly: "All right, Walt, but I won't be responsible for any ahrm that befalls your body or soul!"
"What do you mean?" I asked warily.
"There is a price to pay for communion with one such as Uvhash," he replied. "Look." He slowly unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his shirt sleeve. It was partially healed over, but it appeared as though something had gnawed on his arm for quite a while.
"This happened the first time I ventured too far beyond my limitations," he explained. "Instead of calling Uvhash before me - I went to him. The blood-god caught me unprepared. I escaped only by chance. I called out for aid to another entity, Gi-Hoveg, the Aether-Anenome. It appeared in its awesome majesty - a giant spiky ball of spongy flesh surrounded by numerous eyes set between its countless spikes. It attacked Uvhash with its cosmic powers, fantastic and completely nebuloid. It drove the blood-god off."
I was speechless. This was all so incredible. If all of what my friend Richard gavin was telling me was even remotely based in fact, then all I'd been taught of the material world at large was was totally wrong. It was a repulsive idea - and yet it strangely attracted me, like being privy to some awesome secret.
Richard sighed and rolled his sleeve down again. "Morning is still a few hours away, but we can sleep in peace now. Not Uvhash nor any of his servitors - not loathsome, wispy Vampire nor those dreaded Hounds of Tindalos - will be back to visit us again tonight. But we must prepare ourselves for his coming tomorrow night!"
Bidding Richard good night (for what else could I say?) I went back to my room. But sleep did not come easy once again. My mind was filled with wonder and awe. I wanted to learn the secrets of the universe, to hold the key to the unknowable within my grasp, but it bothered me as well. Was man meant to voyage far in such fantastic explorations? I fell asleep debating with myself whether I should go through with it or not - and dreading the consequences of either decision, both for Richard and I and for the very world.
Copyright © 1997 Peter A. Worthy
