Mythos and Horror Stories

how things were- I… I… sewed him up immediately.'

'What did you see?' I half-whispered.

A look of unutterable fear came into the doctor's eyes. 'I saw — I saw…' His voice broke and his whole body quivered. 'I saw… oh, the burning shame of it… evil that is without shape, that is formless…'

Suddenly he straightened and looked wildly about him.

'They will come here and claim him!' he cried. 'They have laid their mark upon him and they will come for him. You must not stay here. This house is marked for destruction!'

I watched him helplessly as he seized his hat and bag and crossed to the door. With white, shaking fingers he drew back the latch, and in a moment his lean figure was silhouetted against a square of swirling vapor.

'Remember that I warned you!' he shouted back; and then the fog swallowed him.

Howard was sitting and rubbing his eyes.

'A malicious trick, that!' he was muttering. 'To deliberately drug me! Had I known that glass of water…'

'How do you feel?' I asked as I shook him violently by the shoulders. 'Do you think you can walk?'

'You drug me, and then ask me to walk! Frank, you're as unreasonable as an artist. What is the matter now?'

I pointed to the silent figure on the table. 'Mulligan Wood is safer,' I said. 'He belongs to them now!'

Howard sprang to his feet and shook me by the arm.

'What do you mean?' he cried. 'How do you know?'

'The doctor saw his brain,' I explained. 'And he also saw something that he would not — could not describe. But he told me that they would come for him, and I believe him.'

'We must leave here at once!' cried Howard. 'Your doctor was right. We are in deadly danger. Even Mulligan Wood — but we need not return to the wood. There is your launch!'

'There is the launch!' I echoed, faint hope rising in my mind.

'The fog will be a most deadly menace,' said Howard grimly. 'But even death at sea is preferable to this horror.'

It was not far from the house to the dock, and in less than a minute Howard was seated in the stern of the launch and I was working furiously on the engine. The foghorns still moaned, but there were no lights visible anywhere in the harbor. We could not see two feet before our faces. The white wraiths of the fog were dimly visible in the darkness, but beyond them stretched endless night, lightless and full of terror.

Howard was speaking. 'Somehow I feel that there is death out there,' he said.

'There is more death here,' I said as I started the engine. 'I think I can avoid the rocks. There is very little wind and I know the harbor.'

'And of course we shall have the foghorns to guide us,' muttered Howard. 'I think we had better make for the open sea.'

I agreed.

'The launch wouldn't survive a storm,' I said, 'but I've no desire to remain in the harbor. If we reach the sea, we'll probably be picked up by some ship. It would be sheer folly to remain where they can reach us.'

'How do we know how far they can reach?' groaned Howard. 'What are the distances of Earth to things that have traveled through space? They will overrun Earth. They will destroy us all utterly.'

'We'll discuss that later,' I cried as the engine roared into life. 'We're going to get as far away from them as possible. Perhaps they haven't learned yet! While they've still limitations we may be able to escape.'

We moved slowly into the channel, and the sound of the water splashing against the sides of the launch soothed us strangely. At a suggestion from me, Howard had taken the wheel and was slowly bringing her about.

'Keep her steady,' I shouted. 'There isn't any danger until we get into the Narrows!'

For several minutes I crouched above the engine while Howard steered in silence. Then, suddenly, he turned to me with a gesture of elation.

'I think the fog's lifting,' he said.

I stared into the darkness before me. Certainly it seemed less oppressive, and the white spirals of mist that had been continually ascending through it were fading into insubstantial wisps. 'Keep her head on,' I shouted. 'We're in luck. If the fog clears, we'll be able to see the Narrows. Keep a sharp lookout for Mulligan Light.'

There is no describing the joy that filled us when we saw the light. Yellow and bright it streamed over the water and illuminated sharply the outlines of the great rocks that rose on both sides of the Narrows.

'Let me have the wheel,' I shouted as I stepped quickly forward. 'This is a ticklish passage, but we'll come through now with colors flying.'

In our excitement and elation we almost forgot the horror that we had left behind us. I stood at the wheel and smiled confidently as we raced over the dark water. Quickly the rocks drew nearer until their vast bulk towered above us.

'We shall certainly make it!' I cried.

But no response came from Howard. I heard him choke and gasp.

'What is the matter?' I asked suddenly, and turning, saw that he was crouching in terror above the engine. His back was turned toward me, but I knew instinctively in which direction he was gazing.

The dim shore that we had left shone like a flaming sunset. Mulligan Wood was burning. Great flames shot up from the highest of the tall trees, and a thick curtain of black smoke rolled slowly eastward, blotting out the few remaining lights in the harbor.

But it was not the flames that caused me to cry out in fear and horror. It was the shape that towered above the trees, the vast, formless shape that moved slowly to and fro across the sky.

God knows I tried to believe that I saw nothing. I tried to believe that the shape was a mere shadow cast by the flames, and I remember that I gripped Howard's arm reassuringly.

'The wood will be destroyed completely,' I cried, 'and those ghastly things with us will be destroyed with it.'

But when Howard turned and shook his head, I knew that the dim, formless thing that towered above the trees was more than a shadow.

'If we see it clearly, we are lost!' he warned, his voice vibrant with terror. 'Pray that it remains without form!'

It is older than the world, I thought, older than all religion. Before the dawn of civilization men knelt in adoration before it. It is present in all mythologies. It is the primal symbol. Perhaps, in the dim past, thousands and thousands of years ago, it was used to — repel the invaders. I shall fight the shape with a high and terrible mystery.

Suddenly I became curiously calm. I knew that I had hardly a minute to act, that more than our lives were threatened, but I did not tremble. I reached calmly beneath the engine and drew out a quantity ot cotton waste.

'Howard,' I said, 'light a match. It is our only hope. You must strike a match at once.'

For what seemed eternities Howard stared at me uncomprehendingly. Then the night was clamorous with his laughter.

'A match!' he shrieked. 'A match to warm our little brains! Yes, we shall need a match.'

'Trust me!' I entreated. 'You must — it is our one hope. Strike a match quickly.'

'I do not understand!' Howard was sober now, but his voice quivered.

'I have thought of something that may save us,' I said. 'Please light this waste for me.'

Slowly he nodded. I had told him nothing, but I knew he guessed what I intended to do. Often his insight was uncanny. With fumbling fingers he drew out a match and struck it.

'Be bold,' he said. 'Show them that you are unafraid. Make the sign boldly.'

As the waste caught fire, the form above the trees stood out with a frightful clarity.

I raised the flaming cotton and passed it quickly before my body in a straight line from my left to my right shoulder. Then I raised it to my forehead and lowered it to my knees.

In an instant Howard had snatched the brand and was repeating the sign. He made two crosses, one against his body and one against the darkness with the torch held at arm's length.

For a moment I shut my eyes, but I could still see the shape above the trees. Then slowly its form became less distinct, became vast and chaotic — and when I opened my eyes it had vanished. I saw nothing but the