The Shadow Over Innsmouth - H. P. Lovecraft (best fiction books to read TXT) đ
- Author: H. P. Lovecraft
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Zadok was shewing sings of fright and exhaustion, and I let him keep silence for a while, though glancing apprehensively at my watch. The tide had turned and was coming in now, and the sound of the waves seemed to arouse him. I was glad of that tide, for at high water the fishy smell might not be so bad. Again I strained to catch his whispers.
âThat awful night⊠I seed âem. I was up in the cupalo⊠hordes ofâ em⊠swarms of âem⊠all over the reef anâ swiminâ up the harbour into the Manuret⊠God, what happened in the streets of Innsmouth that night⊠they rattled our door, but pa wouldnât open⊠then he clumb aout the kitchen winder with his musket to find Selecman Mowry anâ see what he cud; do⊠Maounds oâ the dead anâ the dyinâ⊠shots and screams⊠shaoutinâ in Ol Squar anâ Taown Squar anâ New Church Green - gaol throwed open⊠- proclamation⊠treason⊠called it the plague when folks come in anâ faoud haff our people missinâ⊠nobody left but them as ud jine in with Obed anâ them things or else keep quiet⊠never heard oâ my pa no more⊠â
The old man was panting and perspiring profusely. His grip on my shoulder tightened.
âEverything cleaned up in the morninâ - but they was traces⊠Obed he kinder takes charge anâ says things is goinâ to be changed⊠othersâll worship with us at meetinâ-time, anâ sarten haouses hez got to entertin guests⊠they wanted to mix like they done wish the Kanakys, anâ he for one didnât feel baound to stop âem. Far gone, was Obed⊠jest like a crazy man on the subjeck. He says they brung us fish anâ treasure, anâ shud hev what they hankered afterâŠâ
âNothinâ was to be diffârunt on the aoutsid; only we was to keep shy oâ strangers ef we knowed what was good fer us.
We all hed to take the Oath oâ Dagon, anâ later on they was seconâ anâ third Oaths that wrne on us took. Them as ud help special, ud git special rewards - gold anâ sech - No use balkinâ, fer they was millions of âem daown thar. Theyâd ruther not start risinâ anâ wipinâ aout human-kind, but ef they was gave away anâ forced to, they cud do a lot toward jest that. We didnât hev them old charms to cut âem off like folks in the Saouth Sea did, anâ them Kanakys wuduât never give away their secrets.
âYield up enough sacrifices anâ savage knick-knacks anâ harbourage in the taown when they wanted it, anâ theyâd let well enough alone. Wudnât bother no strangers as might bear tales aoutside - that is, withaout they got pryinâ. All in the band of the faithful - Order 0â Dagon - anâ the children shud never die, but go back to the Mother Hydra anâ Father Dagon what we all come from onct⊠la! Ia! Cthulhu fhtagn! Phânglui mglwânafh Cthulhu Râlyeh wgah-nagl fhtaga - â
Old Zadok was fast lapsing into stark raving, and I held my breath. Poor old soul - to what pitiful depths of hallucination had his liquor, plus his hatred of the decay, alienage, and disease around him, brought that fertile, imaginative brain? He began to moan now, and tears were coursing down his channelled checks into the depths of his beard.
âGod, what I seen senct I was fifteen yearâ old - Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin! - the folks as was missinâ, and them as kilt theirselves - them as told things in Arkham or Ipswich or sech places was all called crazy, like youâre callinâ me right naow - but God, what I seen - Theyâd a kilt me long ago ferâ what I know, only Iâd took the fust anâ seconâ Oaths oâ Dago offen Ohed, so was pertected unlessen a jury of âem proved I told things knowinâ anâ delibârit⊠but I wudnât take the third Oath - Iâd a died rutherân take that - â
It got wuss araound Civil War time, when children born senct âfiorty-six begun to grow up - some âem, that is. I was afeared - never did no pryinâ arter that awful night, anâ never see one oâ - them - clost to in all my life. That is, never no full-blooded one. I went to the war, anâ ef Iâd a had any guts or sense Iâd a never come back, but settled away from here. But folks wrote me things waânât so bad. That, I sâpose, was because govâmunt draft men was in taown arter âsirty-three. Arter the war it was jest as bad agin. People begun to fall off - mills anâ shops shet daown shippinâ stopped anâ the harbour choked up - railrud give up - but they⊠they never stopped swimminâ in anâ aout oâ the river from that cursed reef oâ Setan - anâ more anâ more attic winders got aboarded up, anâ more anâ more noises was heerd in haouses as waânât sâposed to hev nobody in âemâŠ
âFolks aoutside hev their stories abaout us - sâpose youâve heerd a plenty on âem, seeinâ what questions ye ast - stories abaout things theyâve seed naow anâ then, anâ abaout that queer joofry as still comes in from somewhars anâ ainât quite all melted up - but nothinâ never gits defânite. Nobodyâll believe nothinâ. They call them gold-like things pirate loot, anâ allaow the Innsmouth folks hez furren blood or is dis-tempered or somethinâ. Beside, them that lives here shoo off as many strangers as they kin, anâ encourage the rest not to git very curâous, specially raound night time. Beasts balk at the critters - hosses wussân mules - but when they got autos that was all right.
âIn forty-six Capân Obed took a second wife that nobody in thee taown never see - some says he didnât want to, but was made to by them as heâd called in - had three children by her - two as disappeared young, but one gal as looked like anybody else anâ was eddicated in Europe. Obed finally got her married off by a trick to an Ackham feller as didnât suspect nothinâ. But nobody aoutsideâll hav nothinâ to do with Innsmouth folks ânow. Barnabas Marsh that runs the refinâry now is Obedâs grandson by hist first wife - son of Onesiphorus, his eldest eon, but his mother was another oâ them as waânât never seen aoutdoors.
âRight naow Barnabas is abaout changed. Canât shet his eyes no more, anâ is all aout oâ shape. They say he still wears clothes, but heâll take to the water soon. Mebbe heâs tried it already - they do sometimes go daown for little spells afore they go daown for good. Ainât ben seed abaout in public fer night on ten yearâ. Dunât know haow his poor wife kin feel - she come from Ipiwich, anâ they nigh lynched Barnabas when he courted her fifty odd yearâ ago. Obed he died in âseventy-eight anâ all the next genâratioon is gone naow - the fust wifeâs children dead, and the rest⊠God knowsâŠâ
The sound of the incoming tide was flow very insistent, and little by little it seemed to change the old manâs mood from maudlin tearfulness to watchful fear. He would pause now and then to renew those nervous glances over his shoulder or out toward the reef, and despite the wild absurdity of his tale, I could not help beginning to share his apprehensiveness. Zadok now grew shriller, seemed to be trying to whip up his courage with louder speech.
âHey, yew, why dunât ye say somethinâ? Haowâd ye like to he livinâ in a taown like this, with everything a-rottinâ anâ dyinâ, anâ boarded-up monsters crawlinâ anâ bleatinâ anâ barkinâ anâ hoppinâ araounâ black cellars anâ attics every way ye turn? Hey? Haowâd ye like to hear the haowlinâ night arter night from the churches anâ Order 0â Dagon Hall, anâ know whatâs doinâ part oâ the haowlinâ? Haowâd ye like to hear what comes from that awful reef every May-Eve anâ Hallowmass? Hey? Think the old manâs crazy, eh? Wal, Sir, let me tell ye that ainât the wust!â
Zadok was really screaming now, and the mad frenzy of his voice disturbed me more than I care to own.
âCurse ye, dunât set thar aâstarinâ at me with them eyes - I tell Obed Marsh heâs in hell, an, hez got to stay thar! Heh, heh⊠in hell, I says! Canât git me - I hainât done nothinâ nor told nobody nothinâ - -
âOh, you, young feller? Wal, even ef I hainât told nobody nothinâ yet, Iâm aâgoinâ to naow! Yew jest set still anâ listen to me, boy - this is what I ainât never told nobody⊠I says I didnât get to do pryinâ arter that night - but I faound things about jest the same!â
âYew want to know what the reel horror is, hey? Wal, itâs this - it ainât what them fish devils hez done, but what theyâre a-goinâ to do! Theyâre a-bringinâ things up aout oâ whar they come from into the taown - been doinâ it fer years, anâ slackeninâ up lately. Them haouses north oâ the river betwixt Water anâ Main Streets is full of âem - them devils anâ what they brung - anâ when they git ready⊠I say, when they git⊠ever hear tell of a shoggoth?
âHey, dâye hear me? I tell ye I know what them things be - I seen âem one mght when⊠eh-ahhh-ah! eâyahhh⊠â
The hideous suddenness and inhuman frightfulness of the old manâs shriek almost made me faint. His eyes, looking past me toward the malodorous sea, were positively starting from his head; while his face was a mask of fear worthy of Greek tragedy. His bony claw dug monstrously into my shoulder, and he made no motion as I turned my head to look at whatever he had glimpsed.
There was nothing that I could see. Only the incoming tide, with perhaps one set of ripples more local than the long-flung line of breakers. But now Zadok was shaking me, and I turned back to watch the melting of that fear-frozen face into a chaos of twitching eyelids and mumbling gums. Presently his voice came back - albeit as a trembling whisper.
âGit aout oâ here! Get aout oâ here! They seen us - git aout fer your life! Dunât wait fer nothinâ - they know naow - Run fer it - quick - aout oâ this taown - -â
Another heavy wave dashed against the loosing masonry of the bygone wharf, and changed the mad ancientâs whisper to another inhuman and blood-curdling scream. âE-yaahhhh!⊠Yheaaaaaa!âŠâ
Before I could recover my scattered wits he had relaxed his clutch on my shoulder and dashed wildly inland toward the street, reeling northward around the ruined warehouse wall.
I glanced back at the sea, but there was nothing there. And when I reached Water Street and looked along it toward the north there was no remaining trace of Zadok Allen.
IVI can hardly describe the mood in which I was left by this harrowing episode - an episode at once mad and pitiful, grotesque and terrifying. The grocery boy had prepared me for it, yet the reality left me none the less bewildered and disturbed. Puerile though the story was, old Zadokâs insane earnestness and horror had communicated to me a mounting unrest which
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