Ужас в музее

           EverythingaboutRogersandhismuseumwassohellishlymorbidandsuggestiveofblackvistasbeyondlife! Itwasloathsometothinkofthewaxenmasterpieceofabnormalgeniuswhichmustatthisverymomentbelurkingcloseathandintheblacknessbeyondtheheavy,padlockeddoor. 

           AndnowsomethinghappenedwhichsentanadditionalchilldownJones’sspine,andcausedeveryhair—eventhetinygrowthonthebacksofhishands—tobristlewithavaguefrightbeyondclassification. Rogershadsuddenlystoppedscreamingandbeatinghisheadagainstthestoutplankdoor,andwasstraininguptoasittingposture,headcockedononesideasiflisteningintentlyforsomething. Allatonceasmileofdevilishtriumphoverspreadhisface,andhebeganspeakingintelligiblyagain—thistimeinahoarsewhispercontrastingoddlywithhisformerstentorianhowling.“ 

           Listen,fool! Listenhard! Ithasheardme,andiscoming. Can’tyouhearItsplashingoutofItstankdownthereattheendoftherunway? Idugitdeep,becausetherewasnothingtoogoodforIt. Itisamphibious,youknow—yousawthegillsinthepicture. Itcametotheearthfromlead-greyYuggoth,wherethecitiesareunderthewarmdeepsea. Itcan’tstandupinthere—tootall—hastositorcrouch. Letmegetmykeys—wemustletItoutandkneeldownbeforeIt. Thenwewillgooutandfindadogorcat—orperhapsadrunkenman—togiveItthenourishmentItneeds.” 

           Itwasnotwhatthemadmansaid,butthewayhesaidit,thatdisorganisedJonessobadly.