That Which Should Not Be (18 page)

without ever saying so explicitly.”

Dr. Harker nodded thoughtfully.  “Well, we know for certain,” he said, “if he is insane, he wasn’t always thus.  There is nothing organic there, nothing inherent.  I have known Dr. Seward since we were boys at Harvard, and if he is mad now, then it is a recent development.”

“I asked Dr. Anderson to take a look at him.  He says there are no signs of physical injury.  If his mind is broken, it is from the inside, not out.”

“Dr. Hamilton, I think you should get back to your patient.  I will wait to inform our friends from the police about Dr. Thacker.  If he is dead, the delay can do him no harm.”

*   *   *

Sometime later, I found myself back in Dr. Seward’s cell.  The transformation was dramatic.  He had bathed and changed from his soiled clothes into a hospital robe.  He was wearing his reading glasses, and I noticed he was perusing the copy of the Bible I had sent down with Jacob.

“Hello, doctor,” I said as cheerfully as I could.  He looked up from the leather-bound volume and smiled. 

“Ah, William.  I was looking forward to this visit.  I was reading something I wanted to share with you.”

“I was surprised at your request, doctor.  I seem to remember you are not a man of faith.”

Dr. Seward cocked his head to the side and squinted at me.  “Now, Dr. Hamilton, if we are to have these little chats, I can’t have you misquoting me.  I remember our discussion quite well on the night you took this position.  Strange how things like this work out.”  Dr. Seward’s eyes seemed to glaze over, and I wondered if I had lost him.  Then, just as suddenly, they cleared.  “But no,” he said, jerking his gaze back to me, “I never said I was not a man of faith.  Not a man of your faith, perhaps, but I have faith.  I believe.”

“Why the Bible, then?”

“Ah, you fall into the same trap as the skeptic, Dr. Hamilton.  There are few things I am in a position to promise, but this I can say without doubt.  In nothing will you find all truth.  No faith, no science, no creed can give you that.  But I would wager there is no faith, no superstition, no legend, in which you will not find at least
some
truth.  And, in this book,” he said, holding up the Bible, “there is much to be learned.”

“On that we can agree, doctor.”

“In any event,” he said, “I was reading something earlier I wanted to share with you.  I find a particular chapter of Revelation to be simply fascinating.  Let me read it to you.  ‘And the Dragon stood upon the sand of the sea.  And I saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.  And the beast which I saw was like unto a leopard, and his feet were as the feet of a bear, and his mouth as the mouth of a lion: and the dragon gave him his power, and his seat, and great authority.  If any man have an ear, let him hear.’”  He closed the book with a thud.  “Now, what do you think about that?”

I shrugged my shoulders.  “I can’t say I have much of an opinion.”  I tried to seem as uninterested as possible.  The more Dr. Seward talked, the more I could grow to understand what was going on in his mind. 

“No opinion?” he said.  His voice was shocked, but a little too much so.  I doubted he was buying my ruse, but for now he was playing along.  “So,” he continued, in the tone of a teacher, “you don’t believe in the beast?”

“It’s an allegory, doctor.  Like the flood.”

“Ah yes!” he exclaimed.  “How interesting you bring that up.”  He flipped back through the Book towards the beginning.  “Shall I read some more?” he asked.  I simply nodded.  “Let’s see,” he said, turning a couple pages quickly.  “Here we are. ‘There were giants in the Earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bore children to the daughters of men, the same mighty men which were of old, men of renown.  And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.’”  Once again he closed the Book and looked up at me.  “And what is that, my young friend.  Mere legend?  Myth?”

“Doctor,” I said, “surely you don’t take such a tale as the literal truth?”

“Of course not,” he replied.  “But as I said before, in all myth is truth.  And do we not see, in the myths of all civilizations, this belief, this feeling, that the gods have lived amongst us?  That they have walked on the Earth?  That they have ruled it?  And at some point were overthrown?  From the ancient sands of Egypt to garden-girdled Babylon.  From the schools of Greece to the most high and palmy state of Rome, all speak of the same legend, the same faith.”

“I guess I don’t follow.” 

“Have you not noticed,” he asked, “the ancients all speak of a common foe? Of an enemy, so great, so powerful, that none can stand against it?  Plato, in his wisdom, told us of Atlantis, that great island kingdom, which ruled the world with its knowledge and power.  The Orientals know of a transpacific empire, so mighty it spanned the globe in its influence. 

“The seven Rishi cities of India.  Their ancient texts speak of a war, a battle in which great flying machines engaged one another, with weapons so powerful that a single bolt could destroy an entire city.  Are we so arrogant, so proud, that we think it is all myth, all legend?  But let us consider,” he said, taking a step towards me, “what if, what if there is but a kernel of truth in those legends?  What would it mean?  I believe it would signify,” he said, when it became evident that I wouldn’t answer, “there was something greater than ourselves, something that had ruled this world before we did.”

“But say there was some great civilization before us,” I said, “while interesting, of course, what impact would that have beyond the academic?” 

But though I tried to play the uninterested party, I couldn’t help but notice a shadow seemed to fall across the room as he spoke, a darkness that obscured all but Seward’s face.  It was as if we were standing in the midst of a great void, we two the only beings in the whole world. 

“Yes,” he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “I suppose that would be true, were it not for the universal promise that those great powers would return.  The sons of God came to Earth,” he said, looking at me, his eyes now burning brightly, “and then they were destroyed by the flood.  They were separated, as the first book of the Bible says, divided by God between the land and the sea, between the light and the dark.  This story is universal. 

“Atlantis sank beneath the oceans, the cities of Lemur fell beneath the waves, the seven Rishi cities gave way to the sea.  But it is said they all shall rise again.  As we have just seen, Revelation speaks of one foe in particular, a great lord of the depths.  If he is to rise from the deep, then it stands to reason he lies there now, waiting, sleeping.”

“Dr. Seward,” I said, interrupting, “this is all very interesting, but I cannot see as how it is relevant to what happened to Dr. Thacker.”

Dr. Seward stared at me, rooted in place in the center of his cell.  The minutes seemed to stretch to hours.  But he simply stood there, his eyes seeing me but also looking within himself, as if he was considering something.

“I never meant to bring you into this,” he said finally, a look of sadness falling across his face.  But the look was quickly gone.  Whatever afflicted Seward, it gave him the ability to drift from emotional extremes in but the blink of an eye.  His face stiffened again, and he continued.

“But what if I were to tell you the stories were all true, at least in part?  What if I were to say there was a faith, older than the Sphinx of Egypt, more ancient than the ziggurats of Phoenicia, a nameless cult, an unknown fear?  Practiced throughout the world, including your own Miskatonic?  Particularly that arcane place?”

“Are you an adherent of that faith?”

“Me?” he asked with faux innocence.  “And here I thought we were talking about Dr. Thacker.”  There was a gleam in his eye, and I knew I had stumbled upon some truth.

“Dr. Thacker was a cultist?”

“Dr. Thacker,” he said, “was deeply involved in one of Miskatonic’s more secretive societies.”

“You stumbled upon this?” I asked, now taking a step forward.

“I discovered it, yes,” Dr. Seward said, making a step to the left.  We were now circling each other, staring into each other’s eyes. 

“And?”

“And the beast will not rise alone.  The dragon must summon him.”

“Was Thacker the dragon?”

Dr. Seward laughed.  “No, Thacker was a fool.  I followed him, once I knew what he was doing, when I knew what he sought to accomplish.  The beast sleeps now, but he waits to be awakened.  There are some of us who have taken it upon ourselves to ensure that never happens.”

“So you are a crusader?”

“Ha!” he coughed.  “Nothing so bold.  Simply a watcher.”

“What did you see?”

Dr. Seward smiled.  “Actually, I think I have said enough for now.  Perhaps you will join me tomorrow.  I think by then you will know more.”

“More?” I asked.  “How will I know more if you do not share it with me?”

Dr. Seward’s smile never broke.  “Have faith,” he said.

“One last thing, doctor.  This beast, does it have a name?”

Dr. Seward stared at me, the corners of his mouth twitching into a wide smile.  As they did, whatever mask he had put before me fell away, and I knew he was, indeed, mad.

“Oh, yes,” he said, in the voice of another, “he has many names:  Leviathan, Kracken, Dagon.  But only one is his own, one I will not utter here, one which was not made for the mouth of man.”

Then, his smile faded, and the mask was replaced. 

“Go now, doctor.  You need your rest, and I fear tomorrow may be the most tiring day of them all.”

So I did.  There was no point in arguing with him anyway.  I had learned much about Dr. Seward’s particular brand of insanity.  It was only a matter of time until Dr. Thacker’s fate was revealed in its entirety.  But I could not know there was yet another twist to come. 

Chapter

27

I awoke the next morning to a banging on my door.  I dressed quickly and found Dr. Winthrop waiting outside. 

“There has been a development,” he said mysteriously.  “Dr. Harker needs you at once.”

I found Dr. Harker in his office.  Braddock was there as well.  I could tell instantly something was wrong.  Dr. Harker was stoic, but Braddock was a pale white.

“What’s happened?” I asked. 

“It would appear,” Dr. Harker finally said after a pause, “there is more to Dr. Seward’s saga than the disappearance of Dr. Thacker.  There is also a girl missing,” he continued.  “Sara Quincy, the daughter of one of Boston’s more eminent families.  I knew her grandfather at the University.  She vanished two nights ago, the same night Dr. Seward was discovered.”

“But what does this have to do with him?”

“Nothing, we thought,” Braddock answered.  “But we have been able to piece together the hours following her disappearance, and we have tracked her to Miskatonic.”

“Miskatonic?” I stammered.

“Whatever Dr. Seward was doing that night,” Dr. Harker stated solemnly, “it was dark, indeed.  We can no longer hide this.  The death of a Miskatonic professor at the hands of another was bad enough, but

now there is a child involved.”

“Inspector Davenport is on his way,” Braddock continued.  “With the distance and the turn in the weather, I wager it will take him a few hours to arrive.  I thought out of courtesy to the hospital, I would let you know.“

“We appreciate that very much,” Dr. Harker offered.  Braddock nodded once, and I knew that was enough for him. 

Harker turned to me.  “Go once more,” he said, “and see what you can learn from Dr. Seward.  I am afraid the time for game playing is over.  We need to know what Seward knows, and now.  A child’s life depends on it.”

I said nothing, but instead turned on my heels and veritably ran from Dr. Harker’s office.  I don’t know if it was the life of the girl or my anger at being deceived, but I had determined I would get the truth from Dr. Seward, one way or another.  When I reached his door, I jammed my key into the lock and threw it open.  I could see the shock on Dr. Seward’s face.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the girl?” I bellowed.

“The girl?” he said, looking truly confused.  “What girl?”

“The girl! The girl!” I shrieked.  An outsider would have wondered who was the doctor and who the patient.

“Dr. Hamilton,” he said, “William, slow down.  I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“That night,” I said, now pacing the room, “that night Dr. Thacker disappeared.  A girl from Boston was taken.  The police have traced her to you and your little cult.  But somehow you failed to mention that.  Mark my word on this, doctor,” I spat, pointing at him with one finger, “the police are coming for you now, and when they do, you can expect a harsher brand of questioning than anything you’ve heard from me.”

“Oh, William,” he said calmly, closing the Bible I had given him in his lap, “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t know.  Ask me anything, and I will tell you.  No more games.”

“No more games?” I repeated. 

“You have my word,” he swore. 

“What happened that night?”

“It’s as I said.  I learned that Dr. Thacker was a member of a most ancient faith, a cult as you call it, though I would not use so vulgar a term.  It is a religion if there ever was one, and a faith that has truth at its heart.”

“And how did you come to know of this faith?”

“A man does not stay long at Miskatonic without hearing of it, or whispered words to that effect, at least.  You heard them, even if your ears didn’t let you listen at the time.”

It was true.  There had always been rumors about Miskatonic, about the ancient ruins that lay beneath many of its buildings.  Where they had come from, none knew.  Certainly not the indigenous peoples.  But few asked too many questions, and I had come to believe the rumors were nothing more than myth. 

“In any event,” he continued, “I learned Dr. Thacker was a member of this society.  I knew of its evil, and I had determined to follow Thacker in order to ascertain his intentions.  There are others that know of the order, many who fight against it.”

“Two nights ago, what made you follow him, then?”

“It was the night of Samhein, an ancient holy day, little more than a children's festival now.  But in the elder days, it held the bitterest significance.”

“So, you followed him,” I said, still pacing.  “And where did he go?”

“Huntington Library.”

“The library?”

“Yes, he slipped inside, and he met several others there, each hooded and cloaked.  Their faces were obscured to me.”

“Then what?”

“There is nothing else, William, nothing more that I can tell.”

“Doctor,” I said sharply, growing frustrated, “you were found covered in blood.  Someone else’s blood.  Thacker’s blood.  You must remember what happened.”

“It’s all a blur, then,” he continued, but the way he looked off to the side, the way his eyes glazed, I was suddenly afraid perhaps this event was truly too much for his mind to handle.  For an instant, I considered stopping for fear I might snap his mind and send him into a catatonic state.  Instead, I grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him as violently as I could. 

“Think, damn it!” I commanded.  “What did you see?”

Dr. Seward began to shake.  His eyes rolled into the back of his head.  But as suddenly as it began, it stopped.  He looked at me, but there was something about him that told me he was no longer truly with me.  When he spoke, it was a voice that was not his, but one that sounded familiar nonetheless.  “Choose truth, not passion.  A winding staircase.  Seek the light, not the darkness.”

Now I simply held him still, staring at him.  Gibberish.  Rubbish.  I pushed him away, my disgust evident. 

“The sleeper must not waken,” he stammered.  And in a flash, I had a compulsion.  To this day I don’t know why I said it.  Perhaps it was that his voice reminded me of another.  But in no event would I have expected his reaction. 

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,” I quoted.  “And with strange aeons even death may die.”

Dr. Seward’s body went rigid.  Then he slowly turned, his face a mask of shock, but even through that mask I could see a simmering rage bubbling up beneath.  His eyes changed again, and somehow I knew it was Dr. Seward who looked upon me at that moment. 

“What did you say?” he barely whispered. 

“What’s the matter, doctor?  Perhaps I understand more than you think.”

Then, shock.

“Who told you that!” he screamed, leaping across the room and grabbing me about the neck.  I felt my body flung backwards, slamming painfully into the iron door.  “Who told you that!” he repeated, smashing my head into the concrete floor.  The world started to go black, but everywhere there were tiny flashes, little explosions of light.  As suddenly as it started, I felt Dr. Seward thrown off of me.  I was pulled outside and the door slammed again.  I was sitting in the hall, Jacob kneeling down beside me. 

“Good Lord, doctor.  It’s a damn good thing I came when I did.”

“Jacob,” I said, patting him on the shoulder, “yes, yes it was.” 

He lifted me to my feet.  “Would you like the infirmary then, doctor?

“No, no,” I said, my mind still not working.  “Just take me to my room.  I’ll be fine.”

He led me upstairs, but it wasn’t until he closed the door of my room behind him that I had a moment to consider what had just happened.  I had sent Jacob on to Dr. Harker.  I had learned little from my encounter with Dr. Seward, but I hoped what I had would be helpful to the police. 

My head felt like it had been split in two, and I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around the violence that had just been inflicted upon me.  Dr. Seward was not elderly, but he wasn’t young either, and the strength he had shown was otherworldly.  There was something to that arcane couplet Robert had quoted to me, what now seemed like ages ago.  Ages.  But it had only been two days. 

Then the clouds cleared.  Two days, the very same night Dr. Seward had spoken of.  The very same night Dr. Seward had been discovered, covered in the blood of a dead colleague.  Like an explosion splits the night with a suddenness to match its force, it all came together for me. 

Dr. Seward had tried to tell me, tried to explain.  A beast, long dormant, long asleep.  Robert had spoken of them, floating just beyond man’s consciousness, images of gods past.  The legends, the myths, the secret whisperings of nameless cults and ancient faiths.  No, not legends, not images, but real beings so astronomical in their scope that even their dreams, their non-corporeal wanderings, were capable of killing a man. 

It had all come to Mistaktonic, and in some dread cavern, men had sought to awaken those gods from their timeless sleep.  If Robert had seen the same phantoms that haunted Dr. Seward, then that could mean only one thing.  Robert wasn’t insane at all. 

I leapt from my desk where I sat and rushed to the door.  I needed to speak to Dr. Seward again, no matter what his state, no matter what threat he might be to me in his madness, the origin of which I now knew.  I grabbed the handle and pulled.  But the door didn’t budge.  It was locked.  Apparently, Jacob had locked it when he left me behind. 

I reached into my right pants pocket, then my left.  Empty.  I looked around the room, confused.  But then a cold shudder began to creep through me.  I grabbed the sides of my trousers, as if that would make my key, the key that opened every door in the building, the key I had in my possession before I entered Seward’s cell, the key I had not needed since Jacob walked me to my room, suddenly appear.  But it was no use.  I banged on my door.  I screamed, I yelled.  I began to think no one would hear me, that I might be locked in my own room all night.  Suddenly I heard a key jiggling frantically in the lock.  The door flew open, revealing a very concerned looking Dr. Winthrop. 

“What the Devil is going on?” he asked. 

Before I could answer, I burst past him and into the hallway.  As he ran behind me, I replied, “Seward!”

“What of him!” 

“He has stolen my key!”

For a moment Dr. Winthrop stopped, but it was clear I had no time to discuss it.  We ran down the stairs to the main door.  I waited for Dr. Winthrop behind me.  He hurriedly unlocked the door and opened it.  Jacob’s seat was empty.  There were no orderlies to be seen. 

“Where is Jacob?” I asked as we rushed down the corridor. 

“He should be here.  Someone had to stay behind.”

“Behind?”

“We had a problem in the female ward,” he said as he unlocked yet another door.  “It was complete bedlam.  The lot of them started howling and screaming.  Attacking each other and the staff.  We had to pull the orderlies from the men’s ward.”

The same cold chill began to spread through me once again.  “What about the men?” I asked. 

“Luckily,” Dr. Winthrop said, as he prepared to unlock the door leading to the ward for the criminally insane, “they were particularly quiet today.”  He jerked open the door, but neither of us moved.  Dr. Winthrop inhaled sharply.  “What foul creature . . . ” he finally muttered.  But there could be only one answer, only one person who could have left Jacob there on the hallway floor, his throat torn out as if by some wild beast.  But it was no beast.  The cell door at the end of the hall stood open.  Dr. Seward had escaped.

Without a word, I ran to the wall and pulled the rope that triggered the mechanical alarm. 

“He tricked me,” I said bitterly.

“What do we do now?” Dr. Winthrop asked, as if I was the one who had been at the hospital for years. 

“What do we have in the way of weapons?”

“There is a locker in Dr. Harker’s office.”  Dr. Winthrop went white.  “Could Seward have made his way there?”

“Unlikely,” I said.  “Too well traveled, and his door is the only one in the building that key won’t open.”

“Seward might not know that.”

“I wouldn’t wager on Seward being unaware of anything,” I said as several orderlies came running towards us. 

“Are you all right, sirs?” one I knew as Franklin asked. 

I spoke quickly.  “Seward has escaped.  He killed Jacob.  We have to search the hospital immediately.  Inspector Davenport will be here tonight.  When he arrives, have him and his men report to Dr. Harker at once.”

“There’s a blizzard, William.”  Dr. Winthrop said.  I looked up at a window high upon the wall of the asylum.  Even though it was dark outside, I could see the swirling snow beating against the glass.  I had been so disoriented by Dr. Seward’s earlier attack that I hadn’t even noticed. 

“Alright.  Well, let’s hope Davenport is dedicated.  If he doesn’t arrive, we will handle the situation as best we can.  But this makes it all the more important that we find Seward now.  If he escapes into the forest, we will never track him in this snow.”  I turned back to Franklin and said, “I want you and your men to search the cafeteria, the dormitories, and all the exits.  Search the grounds outside those exits, as well.  If Seward is in the building, we will find him.  If he has left through one of the exits, the snow should reveal his tracks for now.”

“What will you do, sir?”

“Dr. Winthrop and I will take the tunnels.  Good luck.”

Franklin nodded once and began to give orders to his troops. 

“The tunnels?” Dr. Winthrop asked uncertainly as we rushed up to Dr. Harker’s office. 

“I think that’s the path Seward will take.  The tunnels go to the surrounding buildings.  Make it there, and he can escape more easily.  And the sub-tunnels run out all the way to the edge of the forest.”

I knocked on Dr. Harker’s locked office door.  Though I expected it, we were still both relieved when he opened it. 

“Problem, boys?” he asked without any real concern.

I looked at Dr. Winthrop and quickly explained.  Fear crept into Dr. Harker’s eyes, and when he dropped the papers he had been holding, I was afraid he might faint. 

“Find him, William.  Before he goes too far and does more harm.”

“We will need the guns, Dr. Harker.”

I could tell he wanted to object, but despite his friendship with Dr. Seward, he could no longer protect him.  Finally, he simply nodded, reaching into his desk and handing me the key.  I pulled out two pistols, giving one to Dr. Winthrop and taking the other.  As we left, Dr. Harker grabbed my arm.