XV: The Doctor’s FateIt is truly a testament to Inspector Vakarian’s nerve that he did not immediately fire and perhaps damn us all. Believing he had apprehended such a detestable criminal, only to find his quarry crippled and at his mercy in such a place of blood-curdling horrors, then to be confronted by this creature seemingly conjured from the darkest regions of a madman’s fancies? It was more than most men could be expected to bear. Appearing to sense the precipice that we all teetered upon, the thing from the steeple drew back into the darker regions of the desecrated altar, cloaking its abominable form in shadow behind the screening web.
As for myself, I could not help but question my own grasp on reality, to accept this unutterable bizarrerie on display before me. However, did I not stand within that awful fane of horrors, was I not nigh-overwhelmed by the charnel atmosphere, did not hieroglyphs obeying no geometry understood by human eye lie etched into the altar dais by no human hand? What choice did I have other than to believe my entrancedly staring eyes? To begin to doubt at that moment, or even this greater-removed moment would be to consign myself to an ever-descending spiral of catatonic psychosis.
“No!” howled Dr. Saleon, thankfully shocking me from my astonished trance, “things such as you should not speak! Serve, only serve! You’ll have your meals soon enough! Call back your spawn!” He gestured madly with his peculiar glyph, as if it held some sway over the monstrosity. Strangely, at this the thing set up such a piercing chatter that it seemed our ears might burst, and I was nearly driven to my knees by the unholy cachinnation. The doctor laughed giddily, more unhinged by the moment, gloating that soon our intrusion would be dispensed with and he could again resume awaiting the return of M. Arterius.