Strangers in Cross: Jan. 9, ‘38

Advertisements
M0005987 Interior of Pontes’ Pharmacy in Granada, Spain Credit: Wellcome Library, London. Wellcome Images images@wellcome.ac.uk http://wellcomeimages.org Interior of Pontes’ Pharmacy in Granada, Spain. Founded in 1492 Published: – Copyrighted work available under Creative Commons Attribution only licence CC BY 4.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Professor John Englebright overestimated his worth.

After I killed the creature and her spawn, I dragged him back into the house and tied him to a chair in his kitchen. Through the night, the ravens came and spoke to me, carrying news both good and bad.

The good news was simple enough. All the creatures had made their way to this house.

The bad news was simple too.

All the creatures had made their way to this house.

It was a little past midnight when Professor Englebright ventured to speak again. His words were difficult to understand, what with the broken nose and several loose teeth, but speak he did.

I listened, sifting the truth from the idiocy spewing from his bruised and cut lips.

The house, I learned, had a deep cellar, one that was connected by tunnels to the rest of the campus, a bit of news I’d not known.

The creatures had found the staff of Miskatonic to be accommodating, and there was no surprise there.

The professors of the university put ambition and the quest for power above all else.

It’s one of the reasons why I have no qualms about hurting them.

When I inquired as to where exactly the creatures might be lurking, the professor refused to answer at first. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that he would not risk their existence. There was too much to learn from them.

I asked him if he was a Christian man, and he affirmed that indeed he was.

With several of the ravens watching with interest, I cut him out of the chair, stripped him down and threw him on to the dining table. By the time I was finished, he was screaming out where the creatures were hidden, and he was crucified to the table.

As he bled out in the chill of the kitchen, I took a small kerosene lantern and made my way to the lower level. When I reached a room tucked in the far corner, I heard Professor Englebright let out a weak shriek.

Drawing a Colt, I walked through the open doorway in front of me while the ravens devoured his eyes.

As I made my way into a narrow passage, Professor Englebright cursed my name, and that was fine.

I don’t mind being cursed at all.

#horror #fear #art #writing

Published by

Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

One thought on “Strangers in Cross: Jan. 9, ‘38”

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.