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The Shadow over Innsmouth
I
II
III
IV
V
The Music of Erich Zann
Pickman’s Model
The Thing on the Doorstep
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II
III
IV
V
VI
VII
The Case of Charles Dexter Ward
I. A Result and a Prologue
1
2
II. An Antecedent and a Horror
1
2
3
4
5
6
III. A Search and an Evocation
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2
3
4
5
6
IV. A Mutation and a Madness
1
2
3
4
V. A Nightmare and a Cataclysm
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
The Colour out of Space
The Whisperer in Darkness
I
II
III
IV
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VI
VII
VIII
Herbert West – Reanimator
I. From the Dark
II. The Plague-Daemon
III. Six Shots by Midnight
IV. The Scream of the Dead
V. The Horror from the Shadows
VI. The Tomb-Legions
During the winter of 1927-28 officials of the Federal government made a strange and secret investigation of certain conditions in the ancient Massachusetts seaport of Innsmouth. The public first learned of it in February, when a vast series of raids and arrests occurred, followed by the deliberate burning and dynamiting – under suitable precautions – of an enormous number of crumbling, worm-eaten, and supposedly empty houses along the abandoned waterfront. Uninquiring souls let this occurrence pass as one of the major clashes in a spasmodic war on liquor.
Keener news-followers, however, wondered at the prodigious number of arrests, the abnormally large force of men used in making them, and the secrecy surrounding the disposal of the prisoners. No trials, or even definite charges, were reported; nor were any of the captives seen thereafter in the regular gaols of the nation. There were vague statements about disease and concentration camps, and later about dispersal in various naval and military prisons, but nothing positive ever developed. Innsmouth itself was left almost depopulated, and is even now only beginning to shew signs of a sluggishly revived existence.
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“Remember, I ain’t sayin’ Obed was set on hevin’ things jest like they was on that Kanaky isle. I dun’t think he aimed at fust to do no mixin’, nor raise no younguns to take to the water an’ turn into fishes with eternal life. He wanted them gold things, an’ was willin’ to pay heavy, an’ I guess the others was satisfied fer a while…
“Come in ’forty-six the taown done some lookin’ an’ thinkin’ fer itself. Too many folks missin’-too much wild preachin’ at meetin’ of a Sunday – too much talk abaout that reef. I guess I done a bit by tellin’ Selectman Mowry what I see from the cupalo. They was a party one night as follered Obed’s craowd aout to the reef, an’ I heerd shots betwixt the dories. Nex’ day Obed an’ thutty-two others was in gaol, with everbody a-wonderin’ jest what was afoot an’ jest what charge agin’ ’em cud be got to holt. God, ef anybody’d look’d ahead… a couple o’ weeks later, when nothin’ had ben throwed into the sea fer that long…”
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