ELDRITCH HORRORS: DARK TALES

A Haunting From Beyond

by Benjamin Szumskyj

(Excerpt pp. 140-142, Eldritch Horrors: Dark Tales)

“What in God’s world—?”

I was shaking, shaken, but my curiosity got the better of me, and extending a (shaking) finger I touched the green, almost translucent substance that stained the walls. It felt like a coarse fur and was cold to touch. Even worse in its strangeness, however, was the way in which the blood swirled and motioned on its own accord.

“This place . . . ,” I cleared my throat, “This place . . . It is the abode of Satan’s angels,” I uttered with fear evident in my voice.

Roy nodded, fidgeting with his crucifix. “We must cleanse this place. Placing it under the torch will not cast this demonic presence from the land. I shall begin immediately.”

With those words, he drew from his cloak a vial of holy water and began to make the sign of the cross, intoning something in Latin. When the drops of water landed on the green substance, it immediately began to burn and it instantaneously melted back into the crevices and shadows from whence it came.

I walked over and stood by the Father’s side until nothing was left of the bloody evil that had crawled its way into this household, and I began to worry what unspeakable and unimaginable evils had been committed under this roof by its former tenants.

Eventually leaving the baptized room, we made our way up the stairs where we were met by a fleeing, panting Collins.

“What manner of evil besmirches this abode?”

He looked to find an answer to his question in our eyes.

We told of our encounters and with a stunned look upon his face he told us us what he had witnessed.

“When I left you, gentlemen, I went into what I am sure was the study and naturally began to look around. Nothing appeared out of the norm, and the only thing that struck me as a little bit out of the ordinary was the presence of a telegraph. I didn’t notice the wire outside the building, but that must be because I was paying more attention to that damning headache and noise. Anyway, all of a sudden, the telegraph began to practice morse-code . . . by itself! A menagerie of sounds, at first completely chaotic to my ears, but then I detected a weird sort of pattern to it, and it dawned on me that it might be some form of language, unlike any I have ever encountered. And soon my mind almost went beyond the simple morse-code and . . . and . . .” He was at the end of his understanding of language itself. “I . . . I have never heard such noises come from a human mouth and they appeared to have intoxicated my very senses somehow. I was unable to pull myself away from what was being spoken. I ceased to listen as soon as I could feel the blood draining through my legs. Dash, dot, dot, pause, dot, dot, pause, dot! When I left the room, I was immediately short of air. No matter where I fled to find air, to breathe, it was as if I was being strangled by some unseen apparition. I tried to call out, desperately, but to no avail. I scurried around and finally made it down the stairs, where I finally found you. Any longer and I would have died of asphyxiation!”

(...)

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TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Paul S. Kemp:
One Thousand and One Words

W. H. Pugmire
Recompense of Sorrow (brand-new Sesqua Valley!)

Ron Shiflet
Out of the Frying Pan

Don Webb
The Jest of Yig

Gary Hill
Rest in Peace, Jeremy Randall

Simon Bleaken
Ashanna's Whispers

Leigh Blackmore
The Return of Zoth-Ommog

Thomas Strømsholt
Devouring Darkness Hovers

Benjamin Szumskyj
A Haunting From Beyond

Linda Navroth
The Specimen

Dan Clore
The Dying God

Blake Wilson
The Door to Nowhere

Paul Mackintosh
The People of the Island

Henrik Sandbeck Harksen
The Bibliophile