--SAPCE COWBOY
It has come to my attention that upon our return, and our report on our recent expedition to the Mid-Atlantic that the University has already begun outfitting another. I urge with the greatest passion the abandonment of this new venture else the curiosity of those with the intelligence to pursue it will lead to their untimely end. In light of these recent proclamations that a new expedition be sent I am forced out of necessity rather than desire to recount to any that will listen the true chronicle of our adventure. My hope is that after reading this, all further attempts to delve into this ancient arena be abandoned. Our ill conceived adventure began as many already know it. I, Ferdinand C. Ashley Professor of Ancient History at Miskatonic University lead my team of 4 consisting of Francis Morgan from Archaeology, William Dryer from Geology, Warren Rice from Languages and Steven Lake from Biology. We departed from Kingsport, Massachusetts on April 1st 1910 so as to avoid any possibility of entering the hurricane season. Sturdy and proud was our ship The Indefatigable which carried us safely to Bermuda then on to our final destination. The target of interest was a square mile in the middle of the Atlantic that hitherto had been completely unnoteworthy. It was only a few months before that fishermen in the area had found in their nets statues and artifacts altogether strange and interesting. Upon them being brought back to the university, myself and the four men then with me analyzed the artifacts. They were of a type both simultaneously new and magnificent yet familiar, almost as if they stole the best elements from the ancients in some new and wonderful form. We all came to the consensus that this area must be explored and saw new possibilities for a sunken ship full of archeological treasure. Although it was left unsaid at the time, we all noticed a frightening comparison of the artifacts to depictions in the Dread Tome The Necronomicon by the mad Abdul Alhazred. These fantastical assumptions however were left unexpressed as though we were all familiar with the universities copy, had, like many, never seriously considered its mad ravings. Upon reaching that short strait of sea mile we quickly prepared our diving bell for decent. The bell itself could only contain 2 of us at a time and therefore we planned to take 45 minute turns in the bell. Myself and Dryer went first. As we descended we perceived nothing out of the ordinary. The natural sea life of the Atlantic sauntered past us with measured indifference. The ocean floor however seemed unusually flat and smooth. Not so much that any would mark it as wholly divergent, but enough for retrospective mourning. It is here that my story diverges from that in the report previously given. It is not here however that I would put as the origin of our folly. At the point when we should have touched softly upon the sea floor we abruptly continued down. By some twist of nature, what we had considered to be the pinnacle of our descent was nothing but an illusion, a thin layer of sand and rock that had clearly fooled men for generations. It is not easy for me to recount what we saw next as I am still unsure that anything occurring beyond this point in time was in any realm of sanity, but I will do so as a testament to those who foolishly presume to seek it also. What opened before us as we cleared that facade was a city man had never seen, whose size and scope stood unparalleled in the annals of humankind. To our immediate left rose silver pyramids such that they put the Egyptians to shame, and to our right stood majestically those multi columned Cyclopean temples that exist only in the dreams of the architects who pursuing in vain their vision in reality produce those monuments that compared to these seemed like shadows. We continued to descend down to what seemed to be a sort of plaza prostrated before a great domed construct with its gates unbarred and unguarded. We finally landed in what can only be described as a daze. Instruments reading a normal atmosphere we slowly creaked open the door to our metal tomb and were greeted not by an onrush of water but rather air of the same quality and staleness of that which inhabits the deepest sections of the Great Pyramid. Entering through the absolute doors of the monument before us, we found ourselves in a spacious auditorium whose walls were covered with mosaics and reliefs. All these pictograms radiated the walls of the dome monument pointing to a central point on the far section of the structure where an immense doorway stood. While Mr. Dryer investigated this strange portal I tried to make sense of the pictograms. While obviously not being a language expert myself, I did have the familiarity with ancient history to make a educated guess on the subject of the pictures. It seemed to be a comprehensive history of the beings who inhabited this once great city. I say “beings” because they were by no means human. By the pictures on the walls and the architecture of the various furniture throughout the room it was clear that those who once lived here were closer to amphibian than man. Their depictions on the walls held a frightening resemblance to those of the Deep Ones in The Necronomicon and the same beings supposedly worshiped by the rumored Esoteric Order of Dagon in Innsmouth. The wall told me of a great Island that once lay prostrate between the European and American continents. A great empire rose from these lands far before the ascension of man, who eventually served this empire as labourers. This empire spread its influence to all the known continents and established their the structures and nations we now revered as the ancients. As I read this mad tale a noted descent into decadence was observed in the overall artistic quality of the reliefs. What were once in the beginning of the tail curves and apexes in geometry that portrayed an unparalleled understanding of the workings within this universe slowly declined into mere fabrications of the styles before them. When I reached the end of the relief, directly next to the door my colleague was investigating, I am sure is the moment that insanity took me. The last primitive pictograms, evidently produced in a hurry showed a cosmic mass descending upon the city and next to it a single unassuming door. I looked over at Dryer who was investigating what seemed to be a wheel of sorts near the mysterious portal. Both of our hearts filled with elation as we imagined the treasures lying behind this solemn door, the accumulated triumphs of this once great race lay before us only waiting to be discovered. It was when we had finished the rotation of the wheel that I made that horrible revelation. I glanced over and saw the pictogram of the door at the end of the reliefs and horror filled me. It was the same door before me. Without thinking or looking back I grabbed Dryer and sprinted across the room. The deafening sound of the door behind us pushed my flight further and I dared not look back at what horror I unleashed. As we ran, the ground began to shake just as it must have once a millenium ago and I knew that whatever was behind that door was awoken. Running further only caused the quakes to grow more violent and frequent and just as we passed through the original gate to the monument the entire front of the structure collapsed, closing the door. We returned to our ship and told none of our comrades what had transpired, only that nothing was to be found. To this day I know not if those ruins truly trapped whatever we encountered. Some may call my ravings that of insanity, other say it a product of the great ocean pressures. I pray to God that these men are correct, however in the event they are not I cannot advise further expeditions to the mid-Atlantic, for while many see all doors as a mechanism to keep them from the further glory of man, some in actuality perform their duty for the sole purpose of keeping those secrets that lie beyond the confines of our fragile mind, within.
Copyright 2014 J. Westerfield
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