The diary of Dr Clive Lovejoy, alienist.
Alfred Kane is showing some improvement in his condition. While I remain concerned at his inability to articulate what he has seen, the nightmares have faded and he has his tic under some control.
Alfred came to me today in a state. His tic has returned and, if anything, is worse than it was after the unknown event in June that is the cause of his mental scars. Alfred told me that he had been telephoned by a man he did not know, a Stewart David Cabot-Jenkins. This Cabot-Jenkins asked Alfred to meet him in the park, but refused to disclose his purpose. Alfred went to the meeting and claims that Cabot-Jenkins was distressed about something called “the worm house”. Before Alfred could question him further, Cabot-Jenkins was split apart by small white creatures that burst forth from his body and then scurried away.
Alfred called the Police and reported Cabot-Jenkins death, but did not disclose the manner of his death or that he had rifled the corpse and pocketed a wallet and a hotel key.
The Police contacted me to confirm that Alfred was a patient of mine and they were able to confirm some aspects of Alfred’s story – namely that the body of a man named Cabot-Jenkins had been found in a park and that he had met his death in a mysterious and gruesome manner.
I wonder if Cabot-Jenkins suffered some tropical disorder? It seems unlikely but Alfred appears convinced of what he saw. I have not previously noted any delusional behaviour on Alfred’s part, and he is not exhibiting the paranoia and self-importance that usually marks out the delusional patient.
I asked Alfred to admit himself for treatment, but although he is anxious not be left alone he is reluctant to re-enter the facility on a full-time basis. We compromised and I have cleared my afternoon schedule so that I may keep him company at his home.
It transpires that while Alfred visited me two of his friends, Luke and Reggie, paid a visit to Cabot-Jenkins’ hotel room. We met the two of them in the Eagle and Child just after they had finished on this escapade. Luke and Reggie had accepted Alfred’s story at face value and seemed to think there must be something occult behind it. Luke betrayed some paranoiac behaviour and I began to wonder if these two are the best company for someone as mentally fragile as Alfred is.
Luke and Reggie had stolen Cabot-Jenkins’ diary. I was appalled and encouraged them to contact the Police at once, but they would have nothing of it and seemed to think little of the men in blue. Again I noted the touch of the paranoid in the manner this view was expressed.
I have to admit that once I saw Cabot-Jenkins’ diary for myself my desire to contact the Police waned. It was a treasure for those interested in the human mind and demonstrated well the decline of an orderly brain into a panicked and paranoid state. It transpired that Cabot-Jenkins, who called himself a “paranormal investigator”, was investigating the Martinson House, a large house outside Oxford which had been built by an American. This American had been lynched by a mob in the 1840s after a number of mysterious disappearances in the area.
The notebook mentioned a lawyer by the name of Chambers and also mentioned a case of catatonia under my care – Marion Ramsey.
For the first time in decades Marion Ramsey reacted to an external stimulus! Intrigued by the mention of her in Cabot-Jenkins’ diary I paid a visit to her cell and spoke to her. She showed no reaction until I said “the worm house”, at which point she displayed clear signs of both recognition and fear. I am delighted, but have so far been unable to elicit any further reaction from her.
The Police called me again. It seems they have Alfred under their care and were a little suspicious about his involvement in Cabot-Jenkins’ death. Alfred had said something to a policeman which contradicted something else he had said earlier in his statement to Police. I explained that I did not regard my patient as being either psychotic or capable of murder. They appeared satisfied with this released Alfred after a short visit to the station.
Alfred told me that Luke has rung Chambers and found that the estate of the Martinson House is in his care. Luke and Reggie have claimed that they want to buy the house and have convinced Chambers to take them there. Alfred is keen to join them and I have reluctantly agreed to accompany him.
The house is both dangerous and a mess. Alfred almost fell into a poorly covered well before we even reached the house and the inside is covered in dust and dirt. I noticed recent footprints, some belonging to a figure with a bad shuffle.
In a pantry Reggie spotted a while grub of some kind. Its description matched that Alfred had claimed caused Cabot-Jenkins’ death.
We found some occult tomes in the library, but not much upstairs. With some reluctance we have decided to enter the cellar.
Luke found another grub and a door hidden behind a paint cupboard. Behind this was a room with a trapdoor in the floor. We opened this to see a ladder leading down. The walls of the hole were covered in a mass of crawling white grubs. I have captured one in a jar.
Chambers returned and we have left the house. Reggie, Luke and Alfred are keen to return and I find myself keen to join them.
I took the creature I caught in a jar to the university’s entomology department. It elicited some excitement because no-one could identify it. I was sure to let the boffins know my name should this creature be a new discovery.
We have returned to the house on the back of Luke’s truck. I admit to feeling somewhat fearful, but the excitement is almost contagious.
Reggie and Luke dragged containers of petrol and fumigant into the cellar. Luke sprayed the fumigant down the trapdoor, but it did not appear to cause the little white creatures any harm. We debate spraying petrol and setting this alight, but it seems a drastic measure.
Alfred has covered his face and climbed down the ladder. He yells that the creatures are clustered around the top and that below them the passageway is clear. The rest of us decide to follow. I will be sure to cover my mouth and tuck my trousers into my socks as I climb.
We have passed into a new passageway. After climbing down the hole we explored dank corridors until Reggie noticed something strange about a piece of wall. When looked at directly this wall seems normal, but when glanced at from the corner of the eye it can’t be seen. Reggie, Luke and Alfred walked into this wall and disappeared. I reluctantly followed and we found ourselves in a warmer, drier passage. The walls and construction of this passage seem markedly different from the ones that led us here.
We are sitting in a passageway resting. We have just met someone else down here and Reggie is talking to him. The man is American and identified himself as Howard Grant. He is suspicious and not very forthcoming but tells us that the “gate” we went through has transported us to America. Howard carries a shotgun. As we sit and watch Reggie talk to Howard, Alfred lifts his jacket to show me that he is carrying a revolver. What on earth have I got myself into?!
There is a shuffling sound. Howard has motioned us back with his shotgun and is peering around a corner. I have decided to see what he is looking at.
This is Luke. I am writing in Dr Lovejoy’s diary because something terrible has happened and he is dead. Dr Lovejoy and Reggie looked around the corner in that passageway and saw something that was not meant to be seen. Dr Lovejoy fell to the ground in shock while Reggie ran back past us screaming. Alfred shot Howard Grant and then the two of us fled behind Reggie while something shuffled noisily behind us. I heard Dr Lovejoy scream as the creature reached him and then there were sounds too horrible to relate.
As we went through the “gate” Alfred collapsed. I caught up with Reggie and forced him to stop running and to help me carry Alfred. Reggie was not right in the head and kept trying to turn off our flashlights. He broke his and I had to struggle to prevent him from smashing mine.
As we pushed Alfred up the ladder Reggie looked back and saw tentacles reaching towards us. When we reached the top I pushed the barrel of petrol into the hole and Reggie threw his cigarette after it. Then I dragged Alfred’s unconscious body to the car while Reggie piled cupboards and crates on top of the trapdoor. I went back and we blocked the hole as well as we could.
We returned to the car and then noticed that something had made a hole in Alfred’s skin…