From Arkham Fled

AUTHOR’S NOTE; The following story is part 6 in my using pics from the internet to weave a story to explain.  This contains graphic violence and adult situations so if you’re under the age of eighteen LEAVE NOW!

From Arkham Fled

            I got the call in just before dawn’s rosy fingers appeared over the horizon.  Waking abruptly to the sounds of my ringing cell phone I fumbled with the lamp on the nightstand and finally managed to twist the impetuous gnarled knob.  The illumination flooding into my bedroom chased away the darkness.  Through bleary, sleep encrusted eyes I snatched up the noisy device and answered it.

            “Yes?” I croaked out.

            “Mr. Ravencrest?” a female voice asked.

            “That’s me, who are you?”

            “This is Doctor Tanner at the Arkham Institute for Psychiatric Evaluation.  I’m afraid I have some disturbing news for you.  Your sister Isabel has disappeared from her room and we cannot find her.  We tried to reach your parents but they didn’t pick up.”

            Isabel! I thought hastily.  It can’t be—she’s escaped?

            The terrible images welling up in my mind of my sweet, but insane sibling wandering around the countryside without proper supervision filled me with horror.

            “My folks are out of town this weekend.  Tell me, how long has she be missing?” I inquired.

            “We went to check on her, like always but during the guards usual rounds they discovered her cot empty, the bars to her window were pulled apart.”

            Oh dear God no!

            “I’ll be right there,” I warned the psychiatrist.

            Closing the cell phone I hopped out of the warm covers and began yanking on pants and a shirt.  While I rushed about to locate socks, shoes and a hat I found myself pondering the ramifications of this latest incident involving my younger sister.

            She had always been a willful child who grew up into a stubborn and driven woman.  Our parents were quite overwhelmed with dealing with Isabel and only my own more conservative behavior permitted them to concentrate upon her.  To say she was mysterious, secretive and sullen was an understatement.  Isabel was anything but predictable.

            Her entrance into AIPE was nothing less than a shock, a terrible blow to both my parents and me.  Isabel had been off to college, out from under a restraining thumb which probably wasn’t the best of ideas.  However it was out of their hands since she was eighteen and had gotten a full scholarship to Miskatonic University to study religion.  However she barely lasted a full term of her first semester before succumbing to some bizarre mental ailment for which the only recourse was to place her under the care of specialists in mental illnesses. 

            Now she is free—but to what end?

            I recalled the harrowing events which called me to assist our parents in forcibly removing Isabel from her dorm room.  We reached the building to be met by campus security.  Walking in silence we found her room guarded by another pair of Miskatonic security guards.  With my father’s permission they broke down the door and it took several attempts to do so.  Immediately the stench of decaying food, musky body odor and a toilet clogged with feces struck us in the face. We walked in.  She had sloppily painted the windows black, casting the entire room in darkness.  Dad flicked on the light and the scene presented to us would be forever seared into our memories until our dying days.  Lying in the middle of the floor was Jill, Isabel’s roommate.  Her flayed body lay upon the blood soaked floor.  Pale waxy flesh was yellowed and stiff like the dehydrated skin of some Egyptian mummy had replaced the warm glow of life.   Once possessing a long aristocratic nose it was now bent slightly, a crochet needle (my sister liked to do this to pass the time) was jutting out of one nostril.  Her body cavity had been opened up giving us an unabashed view of her carved out insides.  The raw red meaty interior was apparent in the harsh lighting.  But it was the look of sheer terror eternally etched upon her twisted features let us know this was all done without her permission.

            Even more disturbing was my sister, naked and rocking back and forth crooning some hideous chant we couldn’t make out at first.  Isabel was chewing on the thumbnail of her right hand, her blood trickled off her wrist to puddle between her crossed legs.

            “I-Isabel?!” Mother eked out shrilly.  “What have you done?”

            My sister’s eyes never left the corpse’s unmoving face.

            “The swarthy man comes… he calls to me… I must answer”, she answered in a moaning, giggling voice.

            “What is she saying?  Charles what is our daughter talking about?”

            Our father tried to answer when his eyes finally met those of the daughter he had sired.  Her orbs shone with a fanatical and insane light rendering him speechless. 

            We found out later the campus police had been unable to gain entrance into the room due to legal issues.  However they did determine the last time Jill had been seen alive a professor of chemistry told them she had been in class only just last week.  Isabel was easily declared insane and fought us tooth and nail when we tried to remove her from the dorm.  Hugging the corpse she refused to leave.  In the end we had to let the campus authorities use a stun gun.

            Lord knows what horrors she wishes to commit upon some unsuspecting stranger! I thought.

            Slapping a tam on my head to cover my bed twisted hair I snagged my keys and rushed out of my apartment.   I took the stairs two at a time and burst out of the door like some robber fleeing the scene of the crime.  Jill’s tortured expression forefront in my memory.

            Slipping behind the wheel of my car I jabbed the key into the ignition.  Before I realized it I was driving out of the city towards the prison-like clinic where Isabel had been incarcerated for her, and the public’s protection. 

            All this time and now she’s decided to escape.  What was her motive? I pondered.  Doctor Tanner said she was making progress, even opening up a little. 

            Recollections of the strangely bound books found at my sister’s dorm were conjured in my brain.  Musty tomes borrowed from the college’s library were as gore splattered as she had been.  I had picked one up but it was written in some ancient language, no longer spoken in modern times.  The author’s name was Abdul Alhazred, a web search hours later described him as “the mad Arab” and author of the Necronomicon or “an image of the law of the Dead” or some such nonsense.  I borrowed a copy but it was almost unreadable.  Not from a language point of view but from the terrible images it created in my mind.

            I had just turned onto the long winding road which in five miles led to the sanitarium when a white gowned figure ran across the road in front of me.  Slamming on the brakes my car fishtailed and I fought to keep it from plunging into a ditch.  The wheel was like an alive thing in my hand, fighting me as if desiring to commit mechanical suicide.  With a billowing, rubber smelling cloud trailing behind it, my car skidded to a stop.

            “Isabel!” I screamed, leaping out of the automobile.

            To my right, still wearing the sun dress our mother had bought her and wearing a plastic fox mask was undoubtedly my sibling.  I had no idea were she had stolen such a child’s Halloween disguise, perhaps from some local homestead.  Farms did dot the region.  I trembled at the idea she may have entered a house under the dead of night.  I prayed silently no one had to die for her bizarre needs.

            “What are you doing?” I asked.

            She giggled.  It was a sound making me shudder from its clear lack of coherent thought. 

            “Where did you get that mask?”

            More tittering laughter snickered out of the effigy’s narrow mouth hole.

            I started forward and she scampered into the field like some deranged child, skipping and hopping as if on her way to a picnic.  I gave chase.

            Dodging young pines barely reaching my shoulders I followed Isabel until we were out of sight of the road and my car.  A long line of trees to my left worried me for I surmised if she ran into the forest I would easily lose track of her.  But she stopped suddenly without warning.

            Squatting in a stance reminiscent of a horseless rider she frozen in place, her arms rising outward and her hands hanging down in a perplexing manner Isabel began to chant.

            “Faceless One.  O He Who Walks Amongst Man—Nyarlathotep, your servant calls to you,” she droned.  “Nyarlathotep, Nyarlathotep!”

            “Sister what madness is this?” I said, my voice rising above hers.

            Walking around her I saw her hips thrust out vulgarly, her virginal white panties displayed prominently in front of her like some indecent hooker trolling for johns.  Moving back behind her I heard her begin to speak once more.

            “Messenger of the Elder Gods… Nyarlathotep, O Faceless One the time is nigh, come to your servant and reveal to me if it is the Time of Summoning?”

            Isabel ignored my questions.

            “I am ready to join your servants!  I have donned the mask of Anubis, guardian of the Dead I beseech you allow me to worship at your feet and honor the Great Old Ones.  Is it time for Cthulhu’s return?  Shall we bring forth the gibbering horror of Azathoth, the Maker of All Things?  Yog-Sothoth the Opener of the Way, release them all!” she said, her voice rising in both volume and lunacy. 

            “Isabel what terrors are you calling to?” I demanded.

            Taking a step toward the squatting figure I saw past her shoulder to a tall, swarthy man striding through the pine strewn meadow.  His face was handsome.  His purposeful stride was driving long legs over the ground towards my suddenly jubilant sibling.

            “Nyarlathotep!” she wailed happily, “you have come!”

            “I have,” the man’s deep timbered voice answered.  “You have called and I have come.  I have revealed myself to you for the second time.”

            “Teach me the ancient secrets.  Fill my brain with the mystical and long forgotten magick and the secrets of such knowledge!”

            “You have learned much previously—dare you to go further?”

            “Who the hell are you?” I thundered angrily.

            The dusky skinned man acted like I wasn’t present and kept walking with outstretched arms to my now quivering sister.  She fell to her knees, supplicating herself before the stranger.

            “Are you prepared to enact the will of the Elder Gods?” he asked.

            “Yes! Yes!  I will be a vessel for their desires!” Isabel wept in rapturous joy.

            I strode forward placing myself between my sister and this unknown man.  Crossing my arms over my chest I stared him down.  His features reminded me of the drawings of Egyptian pharaohs in the pyramids.

            “You will not take my sister anywhere and she’s not serving anybody any time soon,” I growled.

            “Isabel, who is this insignificant worm?” Nyarlathotep asked.

            “He is a nobody!  Compared to you and what you offer he is nothing to me!” she shouted hysterically.

            “You have told others?  Are you speaking without permission the secrets incantations and unveiling the mystical devices I have taught you of?”

            “No!  I swear it is not so!”

            “Perhaps you are not dedicated enough—maybe I am in error in teaching you things you cannot keep to yourself.”

            “No please!  I beg of you don’t cast me aside I have ever been faithful and haven’t spoken the knowledge you have imparted to me.  I am eager to learn more, to cast myself at your feet and find the wisdom beyond the stars!”

            “I am unsure.”

            “I don’t know what’s going on here but I’m not letting you any closer to my sister,” I snarled. “Get the hell out of here before I call the police.”

            Digging out my cell phone I flipped it open only to hear this swarthy man laugh heartily at my threat.

            “You threaten me with your human law enforcement?  Oh how quaint and useless you are!  But you amuse me, stand aside and I shall not hurt you,” he chuckled.

            “That’s the last straw!”

            I began dialing.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him gesture in an off-handed manner.  It was almost like he was shooing away some insignificant insect which had dared to pester him.  My body erupted in searing agony.

            My spastic hands snapped open and closed like clenching claws allowing my cell phone to fall to the loamy earth.  Stretching out to my full height, I stood on the balls of my feet while burning pain coursed through my body.  I felt my hair begin to smoke, the stench of burning flesh plain in my flexing nostrils.  Urine ran down my left pant leg, uncontrollable and humiliating I wet myself like some newborn.  The world turned black around the edges of my sight, tears of blood ran out of the corners of my eyes and I could only whine pitifully.  My vision was destroyed without thought, but with extreme cruelty.  I fouled my underwear.  Greasily it oozed down my other leg in warm, grotesque droppings.

            “I think you have learned your lesson,” my tormentor calmly stated.  “Come Isabel, it is time for you to see all.”

            I collapsed to the soft, slightly wet grass.  My body was convulsing and shaking from the after effects of his strange assault, my voice whimpering in my ears just above the sound of his footfalls.

            “Isabel—don’t,” I gurgled past numb, spastic lips.

            “I will,” she giggled insanely.  “My lord what is happening to you?”

            The footsteps began to last longer, like he was dragging his feet across the ground.  There was a shriek from my sibling, a wail of pure unadulterated horror which echoed shrilly into my ears and pierced my whirling brain.  An oozing sound became more prominent as if some giant slug was pulsing through the small pines and slipping over the sparse grass.  A meaningless blubber of whispered words, just above my ability to hear hissed forth while Isabel shrieked maniacally.   A single gurgling cry which I barely recognized as my sister’s voice was cut off abruptly.  I heard a hissing spit and a tiny slithering sound which followed the heavy slurping movements away from me.  Minutes later there was silence.  A dreadful and complete silence as if someone had turned down the natural sounds of the world around me.


            I was found hours later by some hunters.  My ruined eyes forever blinded and still leaking a mixture of tears and blood for I knew my sister was lost for all time.  My bodily fluids had to be replaced for I was dangerously low to dehydration.  The evil man had boiled me alive in my own skin and left me for dead.  I pen this account via a microphone and hope the words on the page do justice to the hideous tale which was the near destruction of my life.  Of my sister I know not what happened to her.  Perhaps her wish was granted, perversely as this seems she sought out forbidden knowledge and for her sins was taken into the Cult of the Great Old Ones.  God have pity on her damned soul!

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