A Time to Heal, and to Forget

It had been a long and relaxing spring followed by a wonderful summer. Arkham at its finest, and all the glory of New England's nature. There had been long, slow afternoons spent on front porches, croquet games, long strolls in the countryside, fun cookouts, and marvelous garden parties. Perhaps this is exactly what Felix Jeremiah and Howard Lake needed after the horrifying series of events that transpired in the dreadful apartment of Prudence Van Wyck up by 66th Street and Lexington Avenue. Jeremiah and Lake actually never discussed the ungodly horrors they had been exposed to during that long summer, but at times their vacant thousand-mile stares said more than any words could hope to convey. Lake would occasionally place his arm on top of Jeremiah's shoulders as they walked through the parks of Arkham, with carefully trained staff always nearby, but never too close. Dr. Henrietta Queeg may have left Arkham, but Professor Peaslee Wingate of the Miskatonic University Psychological Department had referred Lake and Jeremiah to Dr. Everett Scott, a reputable Bostonian who had previously taught at the Miskatonic University.

Mackie, on the other hand, was busy through most of the spring and summer. The copy of "De Vermis Mysteriis" that she secured at Prudence Van Wyck's apartment was a fantastic and fascinating find! This was actually one of the supposed fifteen surviving copies of Ludwig Prinn's original work, printed in Cologne in 1542, and suppressed by the Church. Mackie knew that there was one copy at the Miskatonic University Library, kept under lock and key, and under the watchful eye of Professor Armitage. Another copy was probably in the secret collection of the Vatican Library, and yet another was in the Restricted Section of the British Library Museum. Unconfirmed rumors a couple of years ago claimed that a group of deranged Germans had stolen the copy kept at the Lund University Library, although some claimed that this copy of "De Vermis Mysteriis" was in turn taken by the Soviets. What Mackie did know was that this was her copy, and her copy alone! It was lavishly illustrated, and quite heavy, measuring a good ten by fifteen inches. A rather silly looking lock had been added at some point, possibly in the late eighteenth century. Fortunately, the key was in the lock. There even seemed to be some form of poison trap on the lock to jab the unwary in their prying fingers.

The tome also comes with a biography of Ludwig Prinn written by a Nicholas Berenyi, which actually turned out to be a nome de plume for Yolanda Digby, the grandmother of Moira Baker’s old husband, Arthur B. Saunders. It was indeed a fascinating story. Prinn was described as an "alchemist, necromancer, and reputed mage who boasted of having attained a miraculous age before being burned at the stake in Brussels during the height of the witch trials in the late 15th or early 16th centuries. Prinn maintained that he was captured during the Ninth Crusade in 1271, and he attributed his occult knowledge to studying under the 'wizards and wonder-workers of Syria' during his captivity. Prinn is also associated with Egypt, and it is claimed that there are legends among the Libyan dervishes concerning the old seer's deeds in Alexandria: "Saracenic Rituals", which is said to have "revealed the lore of the efreet and the djinn, the secrets of the Assassin sects, the myths of Arabian ghoul-tales, the hidden practices of dervish cults" and "the legends of Inner Egypt". These stories use Prinn's chapter as a device to provide backstory on the cults of Bubastis and Sebek, and on the Pharaoh Nephren-Ka's worship of The Dark One”

At the time of his execution for sorcery, Prinn was claimed to be 'living in the ruins of a pre-Roman tomb that stood in the forest near Brussels amidst a swarm of familiars and fearsomely invoked conjurations.' In this forest, there were 'old pagan altars that stood crumbling in certain of the darker glens'; these altars were found to have 'fresh bloodstains' when Prinn was arrested.

Yet, Mackie shuddered when she recalled the price for this tome. The terrifying entities guarding the apartment were actually described in some detail in the "De Vermis Mysteriis". They were creatures summoned from distant, cold stars to prey upon those who entered the apartment without the permission of Prudence Van Wyck. Mackie's heart almost stopped as she thought about the blood gushing from Jules' friend as he was being torn apart by those invisible tittering apparitions. That handsome, sturdy, and seemingly unstoppable man, his blood and viscera gushing all over her chin, down over her bosom, and dripping from her arms down on the fine marble floor of the Van Wyck apartment. Thank goodness that her friends had found those scrolls that seemed to dispel those dreadful cosmic horrors!

How to summon and dispel strange vampiric beasts from the stars.

Prudence Van Wyck's horrifying gallery.

Mackie could not determine whether this was an extradimensional malevolent entity or just a statue.

The hallways of the Providence Milton Hotel.

From the diary of Jules Pollack:

I just had to leave New York, since I still consider myself a man of honor, and Burlington Jones was a redoubtable fellow. The letter from his mother, Eunice Jones, made me tremble, and I could not get hold of her by telephone. Thus, I booked the first available train ticket back to Arkham. I may have left too short a note to my dear friends back in New York, but I was hoping to be back within just two or three days. I was, of course, mistaken.

Poor Mrs. Jones was beyond shaken. Her son, a war hero, had been given a Federal job after working for Jules Pollack Fine Antiques. He was very happy, and he moved to Pittsburgh in October last year, and he apparently took part in some Federal police or marshal program that demanded lots of physical training as well as academic studies. Mrs. Jones showed me letters from him, and he seemed to be quite happy. The pay was good, he liked his colleagues, and then... he disappeared. Putz Weg, as the Germans would say.

I decided to visit Pittsburgh, mostly out of sympathy for poor Mrs. Jones, but also out of curiosity. Why would a perfectly balanced man in good health just disappear? He had no debt, no criminal past, no odd behaviors, so what was going on? I spent a good two weeks in Pittsburgh. I spoke to Burlington Jones's employer, a Mr. Keith Goodman. I spoke to his neighbors. I talked to the local police. I spoke to Burlington's landlady. I even broke into his small apartment when the landlady was reluctant to show me his abode. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He had left without even his toothbrush and wallet. Nothing was to be found. I am not used to fail when it comes to figuring things out, and in this case I'd left no stone unturned. No result. Nothing. Dammit!

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Finally, what had become of Franz Alter? Well, Franz Alter was happy, in a very Franz Alter way. He did rent a store front at the corner of Hyde Street and Jenkin Street during the late fall of 1925, and the location was most favorable to business. Franz Alter did, of course, continue to work in New York City as well, and his mother strongly suggested that he'd spend at least every other Shabbos with her and her cat. This led to Franz hiring some local help in Arkham, in this case a short, rotund bachelor by the name of Wesley Dobbs. The main requirement, cleanliness, was fulfilled, and besides that, Mr. Dobbs (no first names were ever used) turned out to be the quiet type. He very much enjoys gardening in his spare time, and he is somewhat friendly with the Lake family. 

Mr. Wesley Dobbs.