originally published Weird Tales, March 1939
Our Mr. Haddon, who has the virtue of at least having a single name (a rare thing in these parts), is the legal executor of the estate of Amos Tuttle, a cranky old coot who lives out on the outskirts of Arkham in a big creepy old house with a family tomb on the grounds. Seems Tuttle has some funky dying requests - important as he's about to snuff it and everyone knows so - he wants the house, and a certain shelful of books, destroyed, and never passed on to his heir, Paul Tuttle.
Well, snuff it Amos does and the next thing you know ol' Paul's threatening to contest the will if he doesn't get the house and the books. Haddon, who isn't near as shameless as a proper lawyer should be, folds.
All this despite the fact that, before Amos is buried, his corpse mutates into a fishy-froggy-alien-looking thing, and enormous, squishy stomps are heard seemingly coming from the earth below the house. No big, right? Paul moves in.
The next time Haddon sees Paul, he's gone deep on Amos' shelf of un-destroyed books, which includes all the usual suspect and some notes about paying $100K for one of them, in addition to a "promise". Well, Paul's been digging and having immersed himself in the usual Cthuloid mess (including a copy of Weird Tales with HPL's "Call of Cthulhu"), he explains the Derleth version to Haddon (Elder Gods good, Old Ones bad, etc). Paul has worked out that the "promise" was to provide a "haven" for Hastur, the big creepazoid. Most likely in a series of sub-cellars dug under the house. Oh, and the Squishy Foot Stomp is still happening.
Well, pretty soon Paul's having other ideas and things get weird(er). Someone(?) busts open the family tomb, makes a mess, and takes Amos' old bod for a ride, dumping it in front of the house. And Amos hasn't gotten any prettier since demising. Paul now realizes what Amos was up to with his will. It seems that promise was a big mistake. He now insists that Haddon blow up the house and subcellars (charges already set) and make sure the books are destroyed. Haddon, whose seen enough, is game and, after a detour to a Judge Wilton's place to do some chin-wagging about Paul in interrupted by a phone call from Paul demanding that Haddon get his ass over there and do it now before - aggggh!! Glug, glug! Ia! Hastur etc. Convinced, Haddon heads on over and blows the place sky high, which collapses the subcellars. Something comes running out of the house, a boneless human shape that used to be Paul, wiggling its boneless arms (ewwww!) and glugging at him, before a shaft of light with lightning bolts shoots out of it grabs the former Paul and is away.
Well now, this, I think the first of Derleth's oh-ficial Cthulhu riffs, is no classic - but it isn't half bad either. There's good buildup, good atmosphere, a genuinely icky final manifestation, and even though it does trot out some hoary Lovecraft-riff cliches, there's a certain freshness to it here - perhaps simply because Derleth hadn't done it 50,000 times previously at this point. All in all this one is a decent read.
No comments:
Post a Comment