The Horror From The Blizzard
Page 15
CHAPTER 9: EPILOGUE.
The storm died down as quickly as it arrived, covering the University campus and western Arkham beneath a thick layer of white, drifts mounded up against the ancient houses yet leaving eastern Arkham untouched. The university's meteorology department was excited and talked about occlusions and rare cold spots forming.
However all that talk died down to a respectful silence when the bodies of Tarleton and the two orderlies were discovered under the snow in the quadrangle. Nobody could understand why the three corpses appeared to be so empty and bloodless.
Arkham's coroner was a local man, who had studied for a while under Dr. Waldron himself, had seen enough curious and troubling cases in his time. Cases that defied any rational, scientific explanation. Especially around the times of Halloween or Walpurgisnacht.
A deputation from the University, led by Dr. Waldron and Professor Bamford went to see the Coroner. In his offices, they had a quiet word explaining that the reputation of Miskatonic University, and by extension the good name of Arkham itself, was at stake. The Coroner looked at the earnest, worried faces of the elderly men before him. This wasn't the first time the University had asked a favour and the Coroner thought it wouldn't be the last.
Yet this was a most unusual case. Three men, all in the prime of life, all mysteriously drained of every drop of blood and all with a look of sheer terror frozen on their faces. And all this during a freak snowstorm.
During his time at Miskatonic, the Coroner had looked at a few of the forbidden tomes in the library. And that was enough to convince him that there were things beyond human knowledge that mankind was not meant to probe too deeply. After speaking with the delegation, the Coroner was happy to put their deaths down to hypothermia.
In his official report, the Coroner stated that in his opinion, whilst the full circumstances of this tragedy would never be known; it would appear that the patient, one John Tarleton, woke up confused, took a wrong turning and wandered out into the snowstorm. Realising he was missing, the two orderlies bravely went outside searching for him. Disorientated by the white-out they too became lost out on the sports field and succumbed to the extremely cold temperatures of that night.
Nothing was said about the bloodlessness of the bodies and nothing was said about their look of extreme terror that proved so difficult for the undertakers to mask. These things were better not mentioned. And nothing was said to the Coroner about the trail of giant naked footprints that walked from the infirmary wing then along to the library. Nor of the splintered door in the archive room nor the smashed open crate and the missing jade statue of a gaunt, emaciated humanoid of non-Inuit workmanship that had been tentatively identified as the Great Old One, B’gnu-Thun, the Soul-Chilling Ice-God.
THE END.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Freedom fighter, international mercenary, Riviera jewel thief, jet pilot and gigolo. I've done them all. In my dreams.
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OTHER BOOKS BY MORRIS KENYON:
Morris Kenyon is rapidly establishing himself as an acclaimed writer of fast paced, exciting thrillers. However, he likes to challenge himself and write in other genres as well.