Тінь над Іннсмутом

           Instead,shehadgonetoaspotherdeadsonhadlearnedabout,andhadleapedtoarealmwhosewonders—destinedforhimaswell—hehadspurnedwithasmokingpistol.Thiswastobemyrealm,too—Icouldnotescapeit.Iwouldneverdie,butwouldlivewiththosewhohadlivedsincebeforemaneverwalkedtheearth.

           Imetalsothatwhichhadbeenhergrandmother.ForeightythousandyearsPth’thya-l’yihadlivedinY’ha-nthlei,andthithershehadgonebackafterObedMarshwasdead.Y’ha-nthleiwasnotdestroyedwhentheupper-earthmenshotdeathintothesea.Itwashurt,butnotdestroyed.TheDeepOnescouldneverbedestroyed,eventhoughthepalaeogeanmagicoftheforgottenOldOnesmightsometimescheckthem.Forthepresenttheywouldrest;butsomeday,iftheyremembered,theywouldriseagainforthetributeGreatCthulhucraved.ItwouldbeacitygreaterthanInnsmouthnexttime.Theyhadplannedtospread,andhadbroughtupthatwhichwouldhelpthem,butnowtheymustwaitoncemore.Forbringingtheupper-earthmen’sdeathImustdoapenance,butthatwouldnotbeheavy.ThiswasthedreaminwhichIsawashoggothforthefirsttime,andthesightsetmeawakeinafrenzyofscreaming.ThatmorningthemirrordefinitelytoldmeIhadacquiredtheInnsmouthlook.

           SofarIhavenotshotmyselfasmyuncleDouglasdid.Iboughtanautomaticandalmosttookthestep,butcertaindreamsdeterredme.Thetenseextremesofhorrorarelessening,andIfeelqueerlydrawntowardtheunknownsea-deepsinsteadoffearingthem