Arkham Horror- Ire of the Void by Richard Lee Byers

Author:Richard Lee Byers [Byers, Richard Lee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fantasy Flight Games
Published: 2017-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

13

“There’s no reason for this,” Norman said, his voice tremulous. “I’m not your enemy.”

“Maybe not on purpose,” Stane replied, “but it’s clear you aren’t going to leave this matter alone, and I really don’t want a fool stirring things up. Who knows where it would lead?” He shifted the barrel of the revolver to indicate the door that opened on the foyer, then shifted it back. “Out, then right, then down the hall to the left.”

As he approached the door, Norman wondered if he could lunge through, slam it behind him, and dash outside the house, all so quickly the hooded man wouldn’t be able to shoot him in the back. To say the least, it seemed improbable, and the moment passed without him finding the boldness to make the attempt.

Instead, he said, “People know I’m here. My car is parked right outside.”

“That complicates things,” Stane replied, “but it’s not all that difficult. I can call a man who’ll drive your car away, no questions asked. And the police aren’t likely to pry into the affairs of a wealthy invalid all that aggressively. Should worst come to worst, I have a firm of excellent attorneys on retainer.”

“Look,” Norman said, “I see now that I was on the verge of making a terrible mistake. If there’s nothing a human being can do against the Hounds, then of course I should leave them alone. Just let me go, and I swear I won’t say anything about this…” He groped for an inoffensive word, a word that wouldn’t incite a lunatic to instant violence. “Misunderstanding.”

Stane laughed. “Nice try, Professor. Truly. But I’m afraid there’s another side to it, too.”

“What other side?”

“I’ll tell you once you’re through that door straight ahead.”

The door in question looked like it belonged in a prison or asylum for the criminally insane, not in a mansion like this. An oversize steel deadbolt latch held it shut, and a round, barred window not much bigger than a fist provided a glimpse of the darkness waiting on the other side.

Norman opened the door. He didn’t realize Stane had stepped up close behind him until the hooded man shoved him through. Norman stumbled, nearly fell, and the door slammed behind him. The latch clanged as Stane twisted it down to secure it to the strike plate.

A moment later, the light in the ceiling came on, revealing an unfurnished room with a bricked-up window. Unlike every other portion of the house Norman had seen, this room had right-angle corners unaltered by molding. Painted in dark blue and ocher pigment, geometrical designs adorned the walls with some sort of glyphs written around them.

Norman pivoted back toward the door. Stane was peering through the peephole with his good—or was it his only?—eye. Norman felt a sudden furious and quite uncharacteristic impulse to try to gouge the eye through the bars.

But even in the unlikely event that he could accomplish such a feat, it wouldn’t help him. He took a ragged breath and said, “All right. Now tell me.

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