Похований з фараонами

           ThenIrememberedsomethingIusedtodoinhalf-consciousnightmaresasaboy,andbegantorepeattomyself, ‘Thisisadream!Thisisadream!’ Butitwasofnouse,andIcouldonlyshutmyeyesandpray... atleast,thatiswhatIthinkIdid,foroneisneversureinvisions—andIknowthiscanhavebeennothingmore. IwonderedwhetherIshouldeverreachtheworldagain,andattimeswouldfurtivelyopenmyeyestoseeifIcoulddiscernanyfeatureoftheplaceotherthanthewindofspicedputrefaction,thetoplesscolumns,andthethaumatropicallygrotesqueshadowsofabnormalhorror. Thesputteringglareofmultiplyingtorchesnowshone,andunlessthishellishplacewerewhollywithoutwalls,Icouldnotfailtoseesomeboundaryorfixedlandmarksoon. ButIhadtoshutmyeyesagainwhenIrealizedhowmanyofthethingswereassembling—andwhenIglimpsedacertainobjectwalkingsolemnlyandsteadilywithoutanybodyabovethewaist. 

           Afiendishandululantcorpse-gurgleordeath-rattlenowsplittheveryatmosphere—thecharnelatmospherepoisonouswithnafthaandbitumenblasts—inoneconcertedchorusfromtheghoulishlegionofhybridblasphemies. Myeyes,perverselyshakenopen,gazedforaninstantuponasightwhichnohumancreaturecouldevenimaginewithoutpanic,fearandphysicalexhaustion. Thethingshadfiledceremoniallyinonedirection,thedirectionofthenoisomewind, wherethelightoftheirtorchesshowedtheirbendedheads—orthebendedheadsofsuchashadheads.