There was a terrifying silence, and then came the creature’s more terrifying reproduction of speech. Mere words are insufficient to describe the sheer, mind-blasting inhumanity of the intellect partially transmitted to our hearing by that repulsive buzzing. No trace of kindred emotion or sympathy could be detected, for truly it belonged to another world altogether, and its presence upon our planet was a crime against the cosmos. It told me that its captor, which I perceived to be M. Arterius, intended nothing short of enacting some unspeakable ritual which might somehow grant him sovereignty over the entire earth. This ritual, the thing hinted, would involve a terrible cataclysm leaving the disgraced officer to rule only a brutalized fragment of survivors. Its final warning was merely that our time was short.
The thing indicated that it would depart our world, borne away by its teeming spawn, but reserved one demand of us. Thus I was reminded that any deal for knowledge must carry a terrible price, especially if one desires comprehension beyond one’s means. The object of its horrific petition was its tormentor, Dr. Saleon. He, it intimated, would be conveyed to that nighted world in the orbit of Fomalhaut, where its abhorrent kin could study and make much of him. From the complete and utter terror in the doctor’s piteous wailings, he seemed incapable of imagining any horror to supersede this.
Gazing at Inspector Vakarian, I intuited that the constable was considering the idea, perhaps finding it a fitting punishment. However, too much bargaining with nightmares had taken place that night, so I shook my head, to which he replied only with a curt nod. Dr. Saleon’s grateful screams rose in a dizzying crescendo as the detective inspector turned the rifle on him and placed him beyond the reach of that thing from outside the gulf of the stars.
As I pen these words now at some remove, I am again struck by the thing from the steeple's last intelligible words to me. I had taken them as a warning, then, that M. Arterius was near to accomplishing his blasphemous goal. However, I now see that I was confused by the creature's inhuman, buzzing inflection. It was no warning, but rather an assessment of all life on our planet, reaching back into undreamed of pre-human cycles, and extending as far into the future as our pathetic scrap of matter might support what feeble life can exist in the face of the uncaring cosmos. Our time is short. I was soon to understand, much to my sorrow, the cause.