by Z. M. Wilmot
Chapter Seven
Early the next morning, the instant the repairshops were opened, Siegfried Reinhouer drove from his home to the nearest shop, The People’s Electronic Engineer. His business there was taken care of and his television set dropped off by the time the clock had reached nine and thirty. As the aging professor drove across town, he stopped by the used furniture lot and picked up several good cushions, as well as a rather nice plush armchair that he rather fancied. Young Darien had still been deep in the depths of slumber when Reinhouer had departed, and the professor suspected he would remain asleep for much longer; a common effect of sleeping aids slipped unknowingly into one’s evening tea.
Reinhouer estimated that he had another four hours before young Devalier would awaken in the afternoon, groggy and disoriented, and the professor wanted some answers before then. He drove quickly in the direction of the Devalier estate, speeding by his own residence in the process. He arrived there in record time, but rapidly slowed when he saw a car parked at the door. A servant was currently indoors, the professor surmised, and so it would be best for him to enter the house stealthily. Parking his car out on the street, Reinhouer made his way to the house as quickly as he could, hiding amongst the trees and bushes lining the driveway. He soon arrived at the ivy he had climbed the previous day, and hurriedly scrambled up the side of the house, praying that the room would be empty upon his arrival.
His prayers were answered, for no one inhabited the room when he rolled through the still-open window. Listening intently for the sound of any footsteps, Reinhouer darted from room to room, and finally sprinted across the foyer and into the archive. Locking the door behind him, the professor immediately began his search again, starting at the date that he knew contained records pertaining to the originator of the curse.
It took him a mere fifteen or so minutes to find what he was looking for, hidden under a false shelf in the second room, beneath a row of books dedicated to the more mundane aspects of the life of Charles Henry Devalier, the ancestor of the young Henry Devalier who had brought the curse down upon the family.
In the secret compartment were a series of ancient and yellowed sheets of parchment, many of which crumbled at his touch. The professor carefully moved the antiques to the reading desk in the central room, and laid out his discoveries before him. He began to skim through them, searching for anything that might reveal some hint as to what Charles Devalier had done so long ago to draw the wrath and ire of the beings from the Parallax.
The documents were a log or diary of sorts, written by Charles himself. Reinhouer discovered the object of his search on the third page: a mention of Gorey’s Hollow, the spot young Henry had said his ancestor had probably picked up the curse.
I have returned from my third meeting with the Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow on this day, and now he wisheth for myself to obtain for him the seconde ingredient for his elixir of lyfe eternal, a certain brush by the name of locust’s teeth. I shall obtaine for him said brush, and am to present it to him in the normal fashion upon the eve of the next waxing crescent. One wonders only how many more ingredients he shall aske of me afore he has all that which he doth needeth for the elixir of lyfe eternal. So far he has obtainedeth from me the moonrot root and soon the brush of locust’s teeth. He also requests from me, in returne for his services unto me for the elixir, now a boon of his own: not less than five pounds of golde, which he says is necessary for his return into this world. As per our original bargaine, I am to rule at his side once he arises to take the throne of ye Worlde from the incapable handes of Man, but now he hath made clear details of the position I am to holde in what one hopes will be the neare Future. He did telleth me shortly afore he walked distant that I was to sit as his Grand Vizier, the Eternale Human, and would therefore rule the continents of Orient, Afryka, and Azerya. I tremble with anticipation to think of the day when he shall descend down from his prison and take what is rightfully his owne, and grant unto me that which he has promised, namely the position that I seeke as his Grand Vizier, and the elixir that shall grant me lyfe eternal, so that I may forever sit at his side.
The document then moved onto more mundane matters, such as the harvest and his hatred of Corgley the smith, without so much as a pause. Reinhouer leafed his way through two more pages of trivial ramblings until he found another relevant passage:
The blacksmith whom I despiseth so, the man who calls himself by the name of Corgley, hath finally been taken from this life and into another, far more foul. I asked ye Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow scarce a fortnight ago, at the waxing crescent, when he is most strongest, if he could be taken from this place and cast into the Daemon’s own prison, so that he would trouble me no longer. Ye mighty and powerful Daemon acquiesced most graciously to my request after I did explaineth to him that the smith was preventing my acquisition of the golde he did requesteth, as well as the seed of the black moonshade. Ye Daemon did accepte my lies as truths, and has now done away with my hated foe. It seemes to be as if I am indeed his sole source of information regarding the worlde that he hath loste, ande that I can therefore manipulate him as I so choose. I must be careful, as he is no fool, and it would be disastrous for if he was to find what I hath done to him. But I digresseth, for it was the manner of Corgley’s death which did draw suche greate attention from ye populace, for he was walking as normale down the center streete, when suddenly a gashe of large proportiones did appear upon his neck and arms, and he did vanish in a fountain of bloode, from which his bodie could not be founde. The terrible power of ye Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow has become apparent, and it seems as if his power doth extend beyond the Hollow itselfe.
Reinhouer flipped ahead three more pages, to the next entry:
Three more have met their endes at my request at the handes of ye Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow. The fisherman Otto, who did solde me rotted fish, fell off from his vessel into the frigidde waters of Thatcher’s Layke, and then was set ablaze by some terrible force, and he did burneth to his doom beneath the surface of the Layke. Young Miss Sallington, she whose son did taketh from me several gold coines which I doth needeth, also has perished, and hers was moste mysterious, for she did vanish into the thin air before the eyes of half of the townshyppe. The thirde victim of the Daemon was none other than the miller’s daughter Dianne of the rosy cheeks, who once again did refuse my proper advances. She was strucketh in the temple by a falling star, whose metal none can identify. I was given the responsibility of identifying the substance, but doth knoweth that it comes not from this world, but from the worlde of ye Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow.
A sense of growing horror began to fill the professor’s mind as he read on, skipping only one more page forward.
Ye Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow did telleth me that his power waxed full as the crescent of the lunar moon did waxeth, but as of yet I have seen not this power, but am more than impressed with that which he has demonstrated at other times of ye Monthe. Two have fallen to him this time, the son of the late Miss Sallington, who did suffocate of no cause in the center street, and the butcher Samwise, who did choose to take a day offe frome his worke and fishe out on ye Layke of Thatcher’s, where he did perish by freezing to death on this warm day. Ye Daemon nowe doth begin to worry even me, for I did not request for ye butcher Samwise to meet his ende, for he always was good to me. I fear that ye Daemon is growing now more powerful, and I feele now a sense of dread of the day when he comes to his full realization that I did not feele before. I fear now that he doth not need me, and will turn back on the bargaine we had made. I am now the weaker, I am afraide to admit, and thus must still keep to my side of our deale. He hath toldeth me that it wille not be much longer before he will be able to brew my potion of lyfe eternal.
Only a few paragraphs later, Siegfried read still more:
A massacre did occur today, under the influence of the waxing crescent, and nigh on halfe of the population did pass forth unto their next lives. I did notice afore that the Daemon only took victims in c
ertain particular areas, but todaye he did venture forth from those areas whiche he was accustomed to, and wandered the towne entire, slaying all in strange and indescribable fashions. Ye Mayore, Johnathan of Browsley, did declareth in the aftermathe that the Lorde had judged us badly, and that we need repent. Ye preacher, who also did survive ye slaughtere, did agree, and declared that the Lord demanded a sacrifice, as our current behaviore merited a return to the lord of flame and brimstone. A meeting was helde, and a sacrifice selected by the priest, who claimed that the Lord spoke through him then. The young Ethan Gregory was thus slain that instant, and his mother’s piteous wails did almost cause my heart to quaketh. I had not asked ye Daemon for this slaughter, and he had become more reluctant to slay those whom I said needed to be removede. The priest ordered that all memories and written records of this incident be blotted out, and he shall soon searche ye houses of all citizens. This will be my last document regarding ye Daemon for a time of great length, as I must now cleverly conceal ye parchment.
As Charles had said, that was the last entry regarding the “Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow”. Reinhouer sat there silently for a moment, processing all that he had learned. His hand shakily travelled down to his pocket, and he drew forth the blasphemous document that he had taken with him, and read over its contents once again. The bargain had been made, and had two signatures upon it.
Siegfried stood and replaced the documents, and then proceeded to rapidly search the area for any documents pertaining to Charles Henry Devalier. He found birth certificates for five children, all born well after the incidents described in the hidden documents. Shortly after these certificates, he found certificates of death for the eldest and youngest two, leaving only one to carry on the bloodline. All had died of mysterious causes, like those described by young Henry – strange occurrences caused by an intervention from the Parallax.
There was no doubt in Reinhouer’s mind that the Daemon of Gorey’s Hollow was a being from the Parallax; it was just Charles Henry’s primitive ways and superstitious mind that had cast the being as a daemon. Charles’ mention of it taking victims only in particular places and of its only appearing in Gorey’s Hollow indicated that the being primarily acted through the bridges between realities: the weak points that Reinhouer had studied so extensively.
Another portion of the ancient man’s tale disturbed the professor greatly; the being’s power apparently reached its peak during the waxing crescent, something which Reinhouer had not observed during his extensive studies of the Parallax. If what Charles had said was true, and the “daemon” was representative of the inhabitants of the Parallax, then beings from the Parallax would have influence everywhere, or at least over a much wider area, than was normal. The professor prayed to whatever gods were out there that this was not so, and he continued his perusal of the archives.
He spent his time then confirming the existence of the curse, going through birth and death records, and he saw that what young Henry Devalier had said was true: a curse of strange and unexpected deaths did indeed plague his family, starting with Charles Henry Devalier, and carrying right on through Charles’ father. A chill went down Reinhouer’s spine as he read the name Jonathan Lance Devalier, Henry’s father, and the two names that came immediately after: Emmeline Bertha Devalier, Jonathan’s sister, and Daniel Forthwryghte Devalier, Jonathan’s grandfather. Their deaths were dated in the current year, scarcely three weeks past, just as Henry had said.
It had become clear that Henry had been hiding things from the professor; there was no way that it could be that the young Devalier had failed to enter this room. Indeed, none other than him could have entered the death certificates of his recently deceased relatives, and returning to the central desk, Reinhouer made out several documents in Henry’s hand. Upon inspection, they revealed that Henry had been dabbling in the mystic arts. That would explain why so many of the titles he had requested Reinhouer retrieve had seemed rather strange. Yet Reinhouer wondered why the young man had not sought to ask for any of the books contained herein, inside this chamber. Perhaps it was out of fear that Reinhouer would discover the chamber, and the secrets that he had kept from his protector.
Reinhouer shook his head in disgust at the pages of archaic magical formulae that had been written in Henry’s own hand, and then happened to check the time. With a start, he realized that he had been in the archives room for more than four and a half hours, and was overdue to return. He hurriedly packed the documents away and checked again that the terrible item was in his coat pocket. Then he ran out of the room and out of the house, scrambling down the ivy and rushing back to his car. He may have been spotted by a servant out in the gardens, but did not care in the least as he leapt into his vehicle, started it, and sped off in the direction of his home.