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Rated: GC · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #2115869
The house had been handed down to me, by my ancesters in America. Is in the asylum.
I have taken bus from Rawlins to get to here. It is mining communiy, aside from the fishing that is there. The bus looks like it has been driven into the ground, the other people who have entered the bus looked at me as if I should not have been them. The driver looked at at me with disdane as I entered the bus, he stank of alcohol and fish. I said, “Innsmouth.”

He did not appear pleased with my suggestion, took the coins, and carried my bag into the bus.

The community I knew was most assuredly thankful of my family. My great great grand father set the place up. He opened the
refinery. We have come up with a whitish gold, that is only mined there. I am a James Marsh.. This I knew from his letters to the family in Ire. I often wondered what his home would look like, he and my ancestors had had a disagreement about what he found in Africa. That was the reason, he was here,

I was told his house was the largest of them in the community. We had gone through the marsh to get there. Huge oaks and evergreens hide the majority of the surroundings. When we arrived at the community.

Houses looked ramshackle, and old. Looking like most of the communities that relied upon fishing, not a lot of them were making a go of it. However from what I understood the refinery had been doing well. Since his death, I had heard nothing more.

There was hotel, where I wished to stay and freshen up in. Walking inside the hotel, the desk clerk looked up to me. He looked as happy as the driver. “Yeah>”

“I would like a room.” I said, trying to build up some interest in him with me.

“Why are you here?” a man seated in plush chair asked me beside the stair case.

“I am James Marsh. I have come here about my inheritance.”

“Have you?” he asked.

I was feeling more fearful, with the way he was talking to me. I did nothing wrong, I mustard up enough courage to continue on in my inquiry with the man,”I would like to see the estate.”

“So, you wish to see the estate.”a man asked, put away his paper, he had been mulling over.

“Yes,“ I said. hopefully, I will learn more about the estate and my great ancestor in America,”

I asked hesitant “may I see it?”

He parted the curtain and pointed at the huge house, about a mile from here. It was with a huge porch, painted brown, there were windows all over the house, even from this distance I could see the house. It looked like a brooding giant. The man chortled and said,“I suppose so, I am Obed. If you dare to?”

“Why would you say, that?”

“You do not know,” Obed said as he walked away from the window.

“Know?” I asked him.

“There have been screams that come from the house on Mid summer’s Eve, and red glowing eyes at least they are at the height of an adults eyes would be from these curtained shifted and moved upper windows of it’s cupolaed, but this happened after he was taken away. So, no one in the house.”

“What screams?” I asked.

“No one knows for sure. The screams are we thinking are a woman’s screams, or maybe a boys. They are hideous and macabre in sound. Carried on for hours.“ Obed tells me, than he grows as silent as the man at the desk. Obed looked frightened as the man looked at him.

Dusk is falling, in the shadowed mist the full moon lit the area. I approached the house., ‘Tomorrow. I would see Elliot, my father’s attorney. The house is my family home in this country, We are a sea fearing folk here. I knew what we have brought here from Africa.’

As I drew closer to it, It rose up from the ground. I half expected to see it tear way from the solid ground. The cupola windows were in each corner of the house, there were gargoyles on the door frame, at where the Bannister began. The gargoyles looked unlike any I had ever seen before, They looked like frogs,

The fence that surrounded the house, had metal barbs at the top of them, I witnessed droplets of some red fluid having had run from the barbs, the stonework that the barbs were attached were also brownish red to them.

It stood there, appeared defiant as it rose up as an offending finger of god. The manor house handed down in my family since the beginning of time, from what I knew we had been a powerful family.

The manor house was in the eighteenth century. I looked at the house, the monstrosity had stood there. There were gabled windows and cupola windows on the upper stories of the house to overlook the water of the Atlantic ocean. It felt was that my family dabbled with things, that no one should have dared do.

There was, or is, something wrong with the house. The townspeople swore that they saw people inside if it was what they saw there. The house has been abandoned long ago. Yet they swore that they had seen them there. looking out at them. It’s the description of what they saw with their very own eyes and heard
with their own very ears, this testimony terrified me the most.

It made me shiver and the colour of my skin grew pale, these sounds and the images of what they spoke of. They swore that these human’s had eyes glowed from the windows. Along with the horrendous blood-curdling screams issued from the house.

These sounds and the images told happened on Halloween, and mid summers night eve. Thinking well that explained that. Wild imaginings. The house has lain abandoned until my arrival in America. How we gained the power we had; we did not know as to what we had done.

I had heard some of the tales, through letters, that had been sent to my parents and grandparents from here. The things, he (Adus) sent to them, had come into my possession after their deaths. He spoke of the compact he had made in community with someone who lived there long before he came there. The details were concerned someone named Whately I have been able to understand what they have learned. He had gained a great deal of treasures from the Atlantic ocean That no one had the potential to do this, but those of my family who knew the beings that ruled the ocean.

Some of the house’s odd and dark history involve the incarceration of a previous owner. He was supposed to have been dabbling in the things my family had been dabbling in Irey before hand. They (the townspeople) seemed to be relieved that he was no longer in the house.

However, the unexpected things that they have been experiencing since his arrest and incarceration at the Asylum. Defied common sense, no one should be in the house, now, that he was arrested, but they said that they witnessed the curtains move and there still were screams coming from the house. He had gone into the Arkham Asylum.

The people in the neighbourhood had been mortified by his behaviour. It seemed that they have lost several animals from their yards. The suggestions were that he had done this to their animals Their bodies had been found dissected. There had been a suggestion that he had been dabbling with black magic.

“The house’s interior had sculptures that far beyond anything, we had ever seen. They defied all common sense, nothing could look like these beings. There were strange markings beneath these objects, it looked unlike anything, we have ever seen.” Peter said

“As we were taking him away, they had heard a strange sound that filled the chamber of the house. He screamed, begged for him to be released, swore,”That they had better released him or else the community will die, by his hand.”” Peter said.

“Who?” I asked

“I don't know, but I will tell you exactly what he said to me, "Who will kill the community?”" constable Peter said.““He will! I warn you. Listen to me?” he begged as tears had run down his cheeks. “

“Did you do anything about it,”

“I don’t know, who he was talking about?” Peter said.

“So,” I asked

“We looked at the house, and were puzzled and frightened by what the neighbours had seen there. There was an aroma that had come out of the parlour it was as unappetizing and I and my partner had found a body was mutilated by a knife. Her belly had been sliced, she had been a lady of the evening. If they were to judge by her style of dress.”

“And?” I asked after stopping to draw a breath “She was pregnant, her fetus had been carved up and left in a bowl, if that was what you would call the sculpture’s hands to be.

We suspected, that it was a candle light, but they insisted that it was red this light. There was also the horrifying screams from the house, they had come repeatedly on the eve of a mid summer’s night and Halloween. Ever since, before that happened. Similar sounds had come from there before and afterwards.”

The house had been left alone, no one had ever come inside. Since that time. The police walked up the stairs to look over the place. The doors had been locked from the inside. There were no footprints on the veranda. They themselves had seen the red glowing eyes from the upper windows. There had to be a plausible an explanation, but what.” Peter paused again as if thinking of what he should say next

. “The other constables had gone to the door, found it was locked as it should have been. No harm, no foul.”

They rapped at the door no one came to the door. The door handle had an appearance of dried blood on it. The window had been coated in dried blood on the front window. The window’s stain was like that of a hand without a palm and the thumb. That appeared puzzling.

The doorstep had been marked with it as well, there were drag marks on the door, made up of mud, The door was unable to be opened.

Some of the house’s odd and dark history involving the incarceration of a previous owner. People swore that the curtains moved to the upper floors of the house, along with hideous screams throughout the night of midsummer's night eve and Halloween long after he had been put away.

The house had been abandoned until I arrived here. The day that I had arrived in Inns mouth. Having been handed the key by the lawyer of my newly acquired estate.

He the barrister looked at me, he had eye glasses and there was a white hair as his sideburns, brown hair was at his crown. Having a van dyke. He looked like he was well off, he seemed relieved about getting rid of the key. Said, “Take it, I am finally rid of it. I thank the lord. For you are here.”

“Where is the house?” I asked, as I accepted the key.

“Broker 152. Where are you from?” he asked.

“Iry, Belfast.” I said

“That explains, why it had taken so long to do this.” he looked at me nervously as he said this.

“I am sorry about the delay?” I said, in response.

“It is alright, now that you are finally, here.” he reached for the desk with which he was to sit. The desk was of walnut, there sat a typewriter which with to write corresponded.

There was a picture that was very nostalgic. His wall was adorned with books which suggested that they a law firm. To my right was a fireplace whose mantle piece had a picture of someone was like my great ancestor looking down at me.

‘isn’t that my great grandfather.” I Said as I looked the picture of may great grandfather as he looked down at me, his face chilled the marrow in my veins, he looked as sardonically as his ancestors in my home community looked at me when I told them I was going here to acquire the house.

“Yes, he co-owned the firm.” the barrister said, he looked worried about my question, what did he know that he was not going to tell me.

“I did not realize that?” I answered

“He had a great deal of wealth. Thanks to refinery.”

‘This I knew, as my family was one of the wealthiest families in Iry, said, in answer to his statement I said, “I see,”

He seemed most interested in me, leaving now

“What can you tell me about the house?”

He did not say another word, having led me out the door of his firm.”

Some of the house’s odd and dark history involve the incarceration of a previous owner. People swore that the curtains moved to the upper floors of the house, along with hideous screams throughout the night of midsummer's night eve and Halloween long after he had sent there. The house lay abandoned until I received the key to this turn of the century house.

You can not miss it. It is a huge affair. The architecture is unlike any you have ever seen before. I tell you.”

Ambling down the fog-drenched street to get to the house, I saw a constable walking down the street towards me. He smiled at me, said,”You are new to this community, aren’t you?”

I said,”Yes. I have come to acquire the house, my great grandparents owned. It is on Bolton street.

“You must be James Ryan Marsh, then. I will take you to your abode,” he commented as he turned about and began to lead me there.

I drew out a chesterfield from my pack and offered him one. He accepted it, I was thankful that he did this. I paused to ask,”What has happened in the house?”

“Are you sure, you want to know, this?” he cautioned.

“Yes, I am sure,”

“Well, last night,” the constable said, “Are you sure, you have the stomach for this.”

“Yes, I am sure enough,” I declared.

He grasped my arm, by the elbow and forearm, and walked with me towards a huge house. The rain was spilling out of the sky like a tempest, it had begun to pour it threatened to drown us all.

" Last night., a carny roustabout died attempting to flee. We suspect from your house.”

“How do you know this?”

“well, I was there?”

“The night before my arrival, a carny roustabout was found impaled on the front gate, a spike right through his chest. The constables assumed he had gone in there to stay out of the rain which poured in a deluge. Sad state of affairs, what with me getting the house,” Peter said.

The people who found him had not witnessed his death, but it was suspected blood his sprayed out and soaked his clothing. He had tried to jump the fence, but apparently was unable to. He collided with the fence’s top, which was adorned with barb-like spikes.” Peter
continued as I awaited his next words.

“Next to his body, on the sidewalk, was an open half-empty bottle of gut-rot.” Peter said.

“His eyes were wide open. His face was pale, his mouth hung open. He had been found by the citizens as they walked past the house. His garments were damp His pocket was filled with money, He did not look as if he hadn’t been given a shave.” Peter said as he looked at him. He felt disgusted about this matter. He was looking at me expecting me to back away from the house.

“We had gone to the carny, in search of more information about him,” Peter said

“So, What did you find out?” I asked.

“From what we had found out, he had desired to see your great grandparent? He had in his hands a sculpture that looked like the things that your grandfather had collected.” Peter supplied.

“If I may ask, why?”

“However it was not found with the body,” Peter said.

The house now sits vacant. I have just been given the key and am the official new owner. No need for the key, though, the door had been broken down. Inside there is no electricity; the only sources of light is the gas lamps.

Peter had accompanied me to the house after learning that I would be now be inhabiting it.

There were leaves, on the boards of the veranda, which crunched and burst under our feet. The door was closed. I touched the handle, I found it was cold as the water of the Atlantic which surrounded the community. It was made of an clear gem. I gently inserted the key into the lock.

As I eased open the door, it squeaked. I danced backwards. I was fearful of the sound. It made, what had it alerted inside a sou,
I jumped backwards.

Came in the front door with me.

“The door is a little old. It creaks; when you open it.” Peter said
and smiled at me to reassure me in doing this.

The chanting appeared as soon as we appeared at the door. I can not say what they were saying. It had grown to a loud roar, it was coming from down the hall way.

As I stepped backwards I saw two red lights about the height of where an adult human’s head eyes should have been. The eyes looked unlike any others I had ever seen. They appeared from the
curtained windows in the parlour.

Nervously we both walked inside the house with. His hands hovered above his pistol. His flashlight’s beam ran across the floor, that had scuff marks which marred the marble floor, in the corners hung spider webs.

There sat a gas lantern in the hallway on a bureau. In front of us was a glass door, with the image of a being with three forked toes and a body of a man, with the body of a squid on its head, there were small wings on its shoulders. This was clear glass. The window was etched glass.

We did not know as to where the chanting had come from, but it ended now. Our nerves were on edge, we did not see anyone or thing that had been making these sounds. There were strange sculptures on the stair case. The hallway was immense.

There were mouse droppings on the floor. The light illuminated the floor, the light caused dark shadows on the walls. We heard movement on the floor and above us. There was a trim above our heads, we had seen something move from there.

The flashlight beam went up there to see a mouse, we were happy that it was only a mouse, I wiped my brow with my hand, to calm myself from seeing only this mouse.

This had frightened us immensely. After I screamed. There now, had a death defying quietly hung around our necks like a noose. We found no footprints aside from our own on the dust covered floor.
Peter suggested,”This is where we found the body that was there?”

As he gently opened the door. We heard a blood-curdling scream that resonated through the chamber. It chilled my blood, feeling a chill tear through my being. I shivered, trying to calm my nerves.
Peter’s hand tremble as he drew the door open, the flashlight’s beam trembled. As fear grappled with his nerves. The door eased open, without a difficulty it moved.
On the floor was a lake of dried blood. In a chair sat a lady of the evening, Her garments were cut and sliced her breasts were housed in their corset floral design. Below the breasts was a the cut. The woman’s blood and internal organs spilled from there. There sat other chairs which were vacant of life.
In the middle stood statue that looked like a being seated on a chair. Its feet were bare there were green with scales only three toes per foot.

The being had a causation body of a man with huge elongated hands its hands served as a basin set into it, on it shoulders were small black wings and an olive green colour a squid-like for0m of it. It had standing twenty feet tall. It looked as if it w really alive, I expected to see it step out of the chair. I could not shake the feeling I was being watched by it.

Looking a few times at it to reassure me of it not doing this. The basin was containing organs, of the lady of the eve and that of the infant who lay a body of an infant on the floor beside the statue. Blood splattered on the floor.
There lay a knife whose blade was blood stained beside the woman’s body, a scent of iron filled the air, and f decay wafted up from both of the bodies, and there were insects which had covered the tear in the bodies and the organs that were being eaten by them.
There were symbols drawn on the floor and the parlour table that looked like symbols of witchcraft and other strange designation they resembled something of the native American's had used. The

Peter looked noticed that immediately and had urged me out of the house. The constable called the morgue to survey the scene. No one was found there, but us and the bodies in the parlour. There was no explanation for the voices we heard. There should have been imprints on the floor, but there were none for this voices to have been heard,

So I after a long period of waiting what was days on end, I was finally allowed to go inside. They seemed hesitant, even then to let me inside.

The last family members of mine who had been taken to the asylum the house died over two decades ago.

Things are dark and dusty, and the aura feels…evil. I could sense eyes watching me as I walk in. Just outside of my line of vision think I can see them move, I heard no sounds. Utter silence filled the air.

Than how could I disregard these eyes that I have seen, but how? I’m the only one here. Right. I asked myself, I heard nothing to destroy the thought I just had.
I asked, Could it be an animal? The wind? I’m trying to calm myself.

I drew my colt 45 to protect myself from who might be there. The wind howled like a banshee as though try
ing to allow me to not to know this.

I’m met only with eerie silence. I finally reached the parlour doors to gently open them. I know the scene has been cleaned up but that first image of blood and organs made me nervous. Nothing could have prepared me for what I’m looking at right now. I have no way to describe what it truly is.

I saw it, The monster it had a body of a squid, its eyes
were on the sides of his head. There were a body of a man, there were two shoulders on it, about the size of an
half scale of tentacle of the squid. Its back has a set of wings and I can see its hands, which were webbed. Its nails were a foot long. The feet and legs were that of a reptilians. There were three toes to its feet. Three feet long, toes.

It turned about to see me, it seemed I had disturbed it.
It said,”Peter, welcome.”

“Wait a minute,’ It said my name, how did it know this, I looked at it. Fear slithered past my reserve of nerves. Sank its fangs into my mind. I struggled to be free from it. However it would not allow me to do this.

Instead of facing it, I turned and began to run for the door. It clambered after me, I felt the air whose by me, as it tried to capture me with it’s webbed hand. The nails tore a rent in my shirt.

“I have to talk to you,” it begged its voice was gutteral.

I knew I had to elude its grasp. I reached for my colt revolver. The gun felt slippery, as I touched it. My hand was slippery with sweat that ran from the fear that I was feeling. It slid off of the handle of the gun.

I wiped my hand to clean the sweat off of them. Drew the colt, the colt could stop an elephant. I spun around to point it at the monster. I began to line up. It was point blank from me. I fired. It still stood there, I pulled the trigger, again,

It should have been driven back from where it stood. It 0should not be there still. I did not even see where I shot it. Not even a scale fell off of it. Blood did not appear. Did I miss. It did not even flinch.

I could not have at this distance. There was no way, I could’ve missed.

Still standing there, defiantly. Its tentacles were flung my way and I dove out of its reach, hitting the chair nearest me. The chair ruptured and showered the air with its remnants.

I can hear the sound of its tentacles slapping the wall and the floor as it comes towards me. I look at it and saw no blood running from it.

I had left my house to go the Miller hotel, Sent a cable to the only one which remains here. I heard of someone who might know, something about this matter. I believed he was not in the control of those who worked here. He was not
available, but I had left my room number for him to go to if he wanted to see me.

“What is my family involved with? Please, someone. Help.” Is the cable I sent

Howard Phillip Lovecraft was knocking at my door, the next morning. He suggested, “I should have investigated Whately. His family had something to do with my great grandfather.”

“who is this Whately person?” I asked as I looked at him in search of an answer. I contacted him through the telegraph office. He smiledat me, trying to make me feel at ease with him being here,

“The Whately family has been dealing with your ancestors here in Innsmouth. I am not sure, of how or why?” he said.

I looked at him, as though being struck by an object, I knew that family name. Even back in my home country, we knew of them. They were also very powerful. I said,”Whateley?”

“Yes,” he said as he turned about to leave the house.

“Where would I find the whateleys?” I asked.

© Copyright 2017 Richard Patrick (waskally at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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