Read Beyond Rue Morgue Anthology Online
Authors: Paul Kane
I took it upon myself to call out again, and when I did, the shape ceased to run, turned, and looked at me. I was overcome with fear and awe, for I was certain, even though the being stood back in the shadows, wore an overcoat, and had the brim of a hat pulled down tight over its face, that staring back at me was some kind of hairy upright ape clutching a bagged burden to its breast.
Unconsciously, I lifted the shaft of my walking stick and revealed an inch of the hidden sword. The beast—for I can think of it no other way—turned, and once more proceeded to run, its hat blowing off as it went. In a flash, it disappeared behind one of the standing warehouses. I remained where I was for a moment, rooted to the spot, and then, overcome with curiosity, I pursued it, running through the burnt lumber, on out into the clearing that led to the street where I had seen the beast standing. As I turned the corner, I found it waiting for me. It had dropped the bag at its feet, and was lifting up a large garbage container that was dripping refuse. I was granted a glimpse of its teeth and fiery eyes just before it threw the receptacle at me. I was able to duck, just in time, and as the container clattered along the cobblestones behind me, the thing grabbed up its bag, broke and ran toward a warehouse wall. I knew then I had it trapped, but considering that what it had thrown at me was heavier than anything I could lift, perhaps it would be I who was trapped. These thoughts were there, but my forward motion and determination succeeded in trampling my common sense.
As I came near it again, my previous astonishment was nothing compared to what I witnessed now. The creature divested itself of the overcoat, slung the bag over its shoulder, and with one hand grasped a drain-pipe and using its feet to assist, began to climb effortlessly upward until it reached the summit of the warehouse. I watched in bewilderment as it moved across the rain-misted night-line, then raced out of sight down the opposite side of the warehouse wall, or so I suspected when it was no longer visible.
I darted down an alley, splashing in puddles as I went, and came to the edge of the warehouse where I was certain the ape-man had descended. Before me was a narrow, wet street, the R—, but the ape-man was not in sight.
I leaned against the wall of the warehouse, for at this point in time I needed support, the reality of what I had just witnessed finally sinking into my bones. I momentarily tried to convince myself that I had been suffering the effects of the wine Dupin and I had drunk, but knew this was wishful thinking. I drew the sword from the cane, and strolled down the R— in search of the ape, but saw nothing, and frankly, was glad of it, having finally had time to consider how close I may have come to disaster.
Replacing the sword in its housing, I walked back to the ruins of the warehouse. Using my cane to move burnt lumber about, throwing up a light cloud of damp ash, I examined the spot where I had seen the thing pulling something from the rubble; that’s when I found the arm, severed at the elbow, lying on top of the ash. It had no doubt been dropped there after the fire, for it appeared un-charred, not even smoke-damaged. I knelt down and struck a Lucifer against the tip of the cane, then held it close. It was a small arm with a delicate hand. I looked about and saw that nearby were a series of steps that dipped beneath ground level. It seemed obvious this was where the creature had originated when it appeared to rise out of the very earth. It also seemed obvious this opening had been covered by the collapse of the warehouse, and that the creature had uncovered it and retrieved something from below and tucked it away in the large bag it was carrying. The obvious thing appeared to be body parts, for if he had dropped one, then perhaps others existed and were tucked away in its bag. I lit another Lucifer, went down the narrow steps into the basement, waved my flickering light so that it threw small shadows about. The area below was larger than I would have expected. It was filled with tables and crates, and what I determined to be laboratory equipment— test tubes, beakers, burners, and the like. I had to light several matches to complete my examination—though complete is a loose word, considering I could only see by the small fluttering of a meager flame.
I came upon an open metal container, about the size of a coffin, and was startled as I dipped the match into its shadowy interior. I found two human heads contained within, as well as an assortment of amputated legs, arms, feet, and hands, all of them submerged in water.
I jerked back with such revulsion that the match went out. I scrambled about for another, only to discover I had used my entire store. Using what little moonlight was tumbling down the basement stairs as my guide, and almost in a panic, I ran up them and practically leapt into the open. There was more moonlight now than before. The rain had passed and the clouds had sailed; it was a mild relief.
Fearing the ape, or whatever it was, might return, and considering what I had found below, I hurried away from there.
I should have gone straight to the police, but having had dealings with the Police Prefect, G—, I was less than enthusiastic about the matter. Neither Dupin nor myself were well liked in the halls of the law for the simple reason that Dupin had solved a number of cases the police had been unable to, thereby making them look foolish. It was they who came to us in time of need, not us to them. I hastened my steps back to the apartment, only to be confronted by yet another oddity. The moon was turning to blood. Or so it appeared, for a strange crimson cloud, the likes of which I had never before seen, or even heard of, was enveloping the moon, as if it were a vanilla biscuit tucked away in a bloody-red sack. The sight of it caused me deep discomfort.
* * *
It was late when I arrived at our lodgings. Dupin was sitting by candlelight, still reading. He had a stack of books next to him on the table, and when I came in he lifted his eyes as I lit the gas lamp by the doorway to further illuminate the apartment. I was nearly breathless, and when I turned to expound on my adventures, Dupin said, “I see you have been to the site of the warehouses, an obvious deduction by the fact that your pants and boots are dusted heavily in ash and soot and are damp from the rain. I see too that you have discovered body parts in the wreckage. I will also conjecture we can ignore having a discussion with the lightning witnesses, for you have made some progress on your own.”
My mouth fell open. “How could you know that I discovered body parts?”
“Logic. The newspaper account spoke of such a thing, and you come rushing in the door, obviously excited, even a little frightened. So if a severed arm was found there the other day, it stands to reason that you too discovered something of that nature. That is a bit of speculation, I admit, but it seems a fair analysis.”
I sat down in a chair. “It is accurate, but I have seen one thing that you can not begin to decipher, and it is more fantastic than even severed body parts.”
“An ape that ran upright?”
“Impossible!”
I exclaimed. “You could not possibly know.”
“But I did.” Dupin paused a moment, lit his pipe. He seemed only mildly curious. “Continue.”
It took me a moment to collect myself, but finally I began to reveal my adventures.
“It was carrying a package of some kind. I believe it contained body parts because I found an arm lying in the burned wreckage, as you surmised. Something I believe the ape dropped.”
“Male or female?” Dupin said.
“What?”
“The arm, male or female?”
I thought for a moment.
“I suppose it was female. I didn’t give it considerable evaluation, dark as it was, surprised as I was. But I would venture to guess—and a guess is all I am attempting—that it was female.”
“That is interesting,” Dupin said. “And the ape?”
“You mean was the ape male or female?”
“Exactly,” Dupin said.
“What difference does it make?”
“Perhaps none. Was it clothed?”
“A hat and overcoat. Both of which it abandoned.”
“In that case, could you determine its sex?” Dupin asked.
“I suppose since no external male equipment was visible, it was most probably female.”
“And it saw you?”
“Yes. It ran from me. I pursued. It climbed to the top of a warehouse with its bag, did so effortlessly, and disappeared on the other side of the building. Prior to that, it tried to hit me with a trash receptacle. A large and heavy one it lifted as easily as you lift your pipe.”
“Obviously it failed in this endeavor,” Dupin commented. “How long did it take you to get to the other side of the ware-house, as I am presuming you made careful examination there as well?”
“Hasty would be a better word. By then I had become concerned for my own safety. I suppose it took the creature less than five minutes to go over the roof.”
“Did you arrive there quickly? The opposite side of the building, I mean?”
“Yes. You could say that.”
“And the ape was no longer visible?”
“Correct.”
“That is quite rapid, even for an animal, don’t you think?”
“Indeed,” I said, having caught the intent of Dupin’s question. “Which implies it did not necessarily run away, or even descend to the other side. I merely presumed.”
“Now, you see the error of your thinking.”
“But you’ve made presumptions tonight,” I said.
“Perhaps, but more reasonable presumptions than yours, I am certain. It is my impression that your simian is still in the vicinity, and did not scale the warehouse merely to climb down the other side and run down the street, when it could just as easily have taken the alley you used. And if the creature did climb down the other side, I believe it concealed itself. You might have walked right by it.”
That gave me a shiver. “I admit that is logical, but I also admit that I didn’t walk all that far for fear that it might be lurking about.”
“That seems fair enough,” Dupin said.
“There is something else,” I said, and I told him about the basement and the body parts floating in water. I mentioned the red cloud that lay thick against the moon.
When I finished, he nodded, as if my presentation was the most normal event in the world. Thunder crashed then, lightning ripped across the sky, and rain began to hammer the street; a rain far more vigorous than earlier in the evening. For all his calm, when Dupin spoke, I thought I detected the faintest hint of concern.
“You say the moon was red?”
“A red cloud was over it. I have never seen such a thing before. At first I thought it a trick of the eye.”
“It is not,” Dupin said. “I should tell you about something I have researched while you were out chasing ape-women and observing the odd redness of the night’s full moon—an event that suggests things are far more desperate than I first suspected.”
I had seated myself by this time, had taken up my own pipe, and with nervous hand, found matches to light it.
Dupin broke open one of the books near the candle. “I thought I had read of that kind of electric blue lightning before, and the severed limbs also struck a cord of remembrance, as did the ape—which is why I was able to determine what you had seen—and that gives even further credence to my suspicions. Johann Conrad Dippel.”
“Who?”
“Dippel. He was born in Germany in the late sixteen hundreds. He was a philosopher and something of a theologian. He was also considered a heretic, as his views on religion were certainly outside the lines of normal society.”
“The same might be said of us,” I remarked.
Dupin nodded. “True. But Dippel was thought to be an alchemist and a dabbler in the dark arts. He was in actuality a man of science. He was also an expert on all manner of ancient documents. He is known today for the creation of Dippel’s Oil, which is used in producing a dye we know as Prussian blue, but he also claimed to have invented an elixir of life. He lived for a time in Germany at a place known as Castle Frankenstein. This is where many of his experiments were performed, including one that led to such a tremendous explosion it destroyed a tower of the castle, and led to a breaking of his lease. It was said by those who witnessed the explosion that a kind of lightning, a blue-white lightning, lifted up from the stones to the sky, followed by a burst of flame and an explosion that tore the turret apart and rained stones down on the countryside.”
“So that is why you were so interested in the lightning, the story about it rising up from the warehouse instead of falling out of the sky?”
Dupin nodded, relit his pipe and continued. “It was rumored that he was attempting to transfer the souls of the living into freshly exhumed corpses. Exhumed clandestinely, by the way. He was said to use a funnel by which the souls of the living could be channeled into the bodies of the dead.”
“Ridiculous,” I said.
“Perhaps,” Dupin replied. “It was also said his experiments caused the emergence of a blue-white lightning that he claimed to have pulled from a kind of borderland, and that he was able to open a path to this netherworld by means of certain mathematical formulas gleaned from what he called a renowned, rare, and accursed book. For this he was branded a devil worshiper, an interloper with demonic forces.”
“Dupin,” I said. “You have always ridiculed the supernatural.”
“I did not say it was supernatural. I said he was a scientist that was branded as a demonologist. What intrigues me is his treatise titled
Maladies and Remedies of the Life of the Flesh,
as well as the mention of even rarer books and documents within it. One that was of special interest was called the
Necronomicon,
a book that was thought by many to be mythical.”
“You have seen such a book?”
“I discovered it in the Paris library some years ago. It was pointed out to me by the historian M—. No one at the library was aware of its significance, not even M—. He knew only of its name and that it held some historical importance. He thought it may have something to do with witchcraft, which it does not. I was surprised to find it there. I considered it to be more than a little intriguing. It led me to further investigations into Dippel as not only the owner of such a book, but as a vivisectionist and a resurrectionist. He claimed to have discovered a formula that would allow him to live for 135 years, and later amended this to eternal life.”