Haggopian and Other Stories

Hieronymus Bosch himself could scarcely have conceived such a scene of utterly depraved torture and degradation, and horror finally burst into livid rage in Harry as he turned on the exultant keeper of this nighted crypt. “A temple, you said, you old devil! A temple to what?—to that obscenity?”

“To Him, yes!” Möhrsen exulted, thrusting his hook-nose closer to the rock-cut carvings and holding up the candles the better to illuminate them. “To Cthulhu of the tentacled face, and to all his lesser brethren.”

Without another word, more angry than he could ever remember being, Harry reached out and bunched up the front of the old man’s coat in his clenched fist. He shook Möhrsen like a bundle of moth-eaten rags, cursing and threatening him in a manner which later he could scarcely recall.

“God!” he finally shouted. “It’s a damn shame the Turks didn’t raze this whole nest of evil right down to the ground! You…you can lead the way out of here right now, at once, or I swear I’ll break your neck where you stand!”

“If I drop the candles,” Möhrsen answered, his voice like black gas bubbles breaking the surface of a swamp, “we will be in complete darkness!”

“No, please!” Julia cried. “Just take us out of here…”

“If you value your dirty skin,” Harry added, “you’ll keep a good grip on those candles!”

Möhrsen’s eyes blazed sulphurous yellow in the candlelight and he leered hideously. Harry turned him about, gripped the back of his grimy neck, and thrust him ahead, out of the blasphemous temple. With Julia stumbling in the rear, they made their way to a flight of steps that led up into daylight, emerging some twenty-five yards from the main entrance.

They came out through tangled cobwebs into low decaying vines and shrubbery that almost hid their exit. Julia gave one long shudder, as if shaking off a nightmare, and then hastened to the car. Not once did she look back.

Harry released Möhrsen who stood glaring at him, shielding his yellow eyes against the weak light. They confronted each other in this fashion for a few moments, until Harry turned his back on the little man to follow Julia to the car. It was then that Möhrsen whispered:

“Do not forget: I did not force you to do anything. I did not make you touch anything. You came here of your own free will.”

When Harry turned to throw a few final harsh words at him, the old man was already disappearing down into the bowels of the ruins.

• • •

In the car as they drove along the track through the sparsely clad trees to the road, Julia was very quiet. At last she said: “That was quite horrible. I didn’t know such people existed.”

“Nor did I,” Harry answered.

“I feel filthy,” she continued. “I need a bath. What on earth did that creature want with us?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. I think he must be insane.”

“Harry, let’s not go straight back to the inn. Just drive around for a while.” She rolled down her window, breathing deeply of the fresh air that flooded in before lying back in the seat and closing her eyes. He looked at her, thinking: “God!—but you’re certainly showing your age now, my sweet”…but he couldn’t really blame her.

• • •

There were two or three tiny villages within a few miles of Szolyhaza, centres of peasant life compared to which Szolyhaza was a veritable capital. These were mainly farming communities, some of which were quite picturesque. Nightfall was still several hours away and the rain had moved on, leaving a freshness in the air and a beautiful warm glow over the hills, so that they felt inclined to park the car by the roadside and enjoy a drink at a tiny Gasthaus.

Sitting there by a wide window that overlooked the street, while Julia composed herself and recovered from her ordeal, Harry noticed several posters on the wall of the building opposite. He had seen similar posters in Szolyhaza, and his knowledge of the language was just sufficient for him to realise that the event in question—whatever that might be—was taking place tonight. He determined, out of sheer curiosity, to question Herr Debrec about it when they returned to the inn. After all, there could hardly be very much of importance happening in an area so out-of-the-way. It had already been decided that nothing should be said about their visit to the ruins, the exceedingly unpleasant hour spent in the doubtful company of Herr Möhrsen.

• • •

Twilight was settling over the village when they got back. Julia, complaining of a splitting headache, bathed and went straight to her bed. Harry, on the other hand, felt strangely restless, full of physical and mental energy. When Julia asked him to fetch her a glass of water and a sleeping pill, he dissolved two pills, thus ensuring that she would remain undisturbed for the night. When she was asleep he tidied himself up and went down to the bar.