The Edinburgh Townhouse and Other Stories by William Meikle

Author:William Meikle [Meikle, William]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literary, Horror, Science, Fiction
ISBN: 9780996694193
Amazon: 0996694196
Goodreads: 37458980
Publisher: Lovecraft EZine Press
Published: 2017-05-25T00:00:00+00:00

*

"I felt cold and dark and deep grip at me. The chanting appeared to rise to a crescendo. I heard it echo and boom, as if a thousand voices were singing inside my head.

"'The Dreaming God is singing where she lies.'

"Somehow I forced myself forward until I was within reach of the captain, and I stretched out a hand. It felt like I moved through thick molasses, but finally my fingertips met the material of his coat and it was as if a spell had been broken and I could move more freely. I grabbed his shoulder, and Gault came to his senses.

"Even then he tried to raise the pistol. I saw that he meant to shoot the other suited diver, but I knew there was no time for that. I dragged Gault backward, headed for the pentacle, and was able to get him to step over the drawn chalk circles before the wave of green washed against the defenses.

"I winced, expecting the circle, the pentacle, and perhaps even all of us left standing, to be washed away, but to my amazement the defenses held. The green darkness splashed against the outer circle, then hissed and boiled, turning to a misty steam that hung around the outside edge past the crystal valves. The valves themselves pulsed in time with the rhythm of the chanting, green, then blue, then yellow brightening and fading in turn as wave after wave of the swirling fluid broke against the circles and was repelled.

"It appeared we were safe, for now. But we were far from being out of danger.

"The green fluid washed forward and back across the deck, covering the whole surface from where we stood right up to the bow, traveling in a wave some three feet high. And where it passed, nothing was left behind it. Fallen men, machinery, and all of the piles of the captain's treasure were all washed away overboard. We heard it go, clattering and splashing over the sides, and felt the boat rock and sway under us as if taken in a heavy swell. The singing continued to echo around us, from everywhere and nowhere, more voices joined in song now, a great multitude of them.

"'She sleeps in the deep, with the fish far below,'

"'She sleeps, in the deep, in the dark,'

"There was one, last, surge, of green black water and I tasted salt spray at my lips, smelled rot and decay in my nose and throat. The valves of the pentacle all flared brightly at the same time, gleaming like small suns in the dark, then the boat stopped rocking, the choir stopped singing, and everything fell still and went quiet.

"The wave of green was gone, and the deck was clear of everything, everything except for the five of us standing in the pentacle, and the remaining rubber suited figure of the second diver."

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