Beneath the Moors and Darker Places by Brian Lumley
The statement Williamson made to the police later that night is reproduced in all its important details as follows:
... Then, after Mr. Masters went out, I checked again that the professor was asleep and made myself a cup of coffee. I would say that it was about 8:30 p.m. by the time I’d finished my coffee. I cleaned up in the kitchen and went back to my easy chair outside the professor’s room. I smoked a cigarette and then sat reading for a while. Just after 9:00 p.m. I heard the professor talking in his sleep. I knew he must still be asleep because he’d had his sedative at 6:30 p.m. and it normally keeps him out right through the night. The light was off in his room—he likes it that way—and when I looked in I saw a cloud of fireflies over his bed. When I switched the light on these fireflies must have gone out the window, which was slightly open; anyway, I couldn’t see them. No, not just because it was light in the room ... I mean, I really did look for them. They’re insects, you know? I sat by the professor’s bed then for a while, listening to him talking. He was on about “songs” or something like that, and he kept putting his hands up to his ears in his sleep. Yes, that’s it, he kept saying “The songs have started again—they’re coming for me...” A few minutes later he began to go on about “dreams within dreams” and other things I could make nothing of. At about 9:30 he became very agitated and started to toss and turn on his bed. Then he sat straight up and looked at me. He was awake then, yes. He said: “Dr. Bokrug, I presume?”—he always called me Bokrug—and then burst out laughing. I tried to get him to lie down again and he did, but he kept complaining about the “songs” and putting his hands to his ears. I went to get him another tablet and when I got back to his room he was sitting up again. He said: “Ah, Herr Ober! What’s on the menu? Champignons und Fisch?” I speak a little German so I knew he meant mushrooms and fish. That’s his favourite meal. No, I don’t know why he spoke in German. A little while later, after getting him on his back again, he started to get violent—but very weakly, because that second pill was getting to work on him. “What’s real?” he kept asking me. “What’s real? Are you real? If you are ... then you have to help me! They’re coming for me! I tell you—they’re coming for me!” I asked him whom he meant. I had to shout, he’s very deaf, and he told me: “Why, Them!” Yes, that’s how he said it: “Them.” He carried on: “And they’re bringing the Thuun’ha with them ... for of course, it wouldn’t be seemly for one of Them to be seen slavishly bearing in his arms the likes of me!” Yes, I remember he said just that. It sounded so odd to me that I took special note of it. A few minutes later he dropped off to sleep, but he was still very restless and kept mumbling to himself. Just after 9:45 (I was back in my chair again outside the professor’s door) there was a knock at the front door of the house. I answered the knock and found an odd-looking chap standing on the doorstep. By “odd” I mean that he was queer-looking. He had no eyebrows that I could see and he was as bald as a coot. He told me he was a doctor and a friend of Mr. Masters. I was about to invite him inside, to wait on Mr. Masters’ return, when I saw a movement at the bottom of the garden in the shadows near the gate. It was dark down there, and I remember thinking what a lot of fireflies there were about—you don’t often see them nowadays, certainly not at this time of year. I asked this Kruger chap—yes, that’s what he said his name was—if he had someone waiting for him, at which he beckoned in the direction of the gate. I heard the gate open and then these two . . . well, these two ... yes, I will get on with it, but I don’t know if you’ll believe me! I swear to God I wasn’t asleep and dreaming it all, but... they were Things! No, they weren’t people. They walked upright but they were almost like, well, crocodiles! but with humanish faces! They had short tails and they were green. I told you you wouldn’t believe me!... All right. These creatures (I’ll call them creatures) each carried what looked like a roll of leather of a sort. I can tell you, I didn’t see much of them right then! Quick as a flash I was back into the house and trying to get the door shut. I don’t know what happened then. I think that this Kruger chap must have taken hold of my hand as I tried to close the door, but I’m not sure. I found myself flat on my back on the hall carpet. I could hear and think, all right, but I couldn’t move a finger. Now, God knows you can’t believe what happened next—but I swear it’s true! This Kruger and the two ... creatures ... came in through the door and went to the professor’s room. They came out again, looking very satisfied with themselves, and went about the house switching off the lights. In the dark I could see that the place was full of fireflies—especially round the heads of Kruger and the... others. Then they left the house and went outside. I thought maybe they’d left for good, but I was wrong. I did notice, though, that those fireflies went with them. In less than five minutes they were back and they brought some other... things... with them! Yes, I know I said they switched off the lights, and so they had, but those damned fireflies seemed to follow them about so that I could see everything that happened! The other things I mentioned? Oh, yes, well... I mean I can’t be sure. Well, they were like ... children! That is, they were the same size as kids. Yes, I could see them clearly, but... for God’s sake! You simply won’t believe me! All right, all right. I’ll tell you. There were four or five of them. They were small, about four feet tall, I’d say, and they ... they were like nothing on Earth! No, I don’t know. I can’t describe them—I won’t’.... Well, these smaller things carried the professor from his room and out of the house. The other three stayed for a while, mainly in Mr. Masters’s rooms, and then they left too. They took something with them—papers, I think. A few moments later I heard the station wagon drive away. I think it must have been about 10:00 p.m. by that time. For the next hour or so I tried to get up, and slowly I felt the strength coming back into my arms, legs, and body. In the end I did manage to get up. I put all the lights on, and I had just made it to the door when Mr. Masters came home ...
I listened until Williamson had done with dictating his statement to the police, then I quickly checked my room. Every scrap of paperwork I had collected on my uncle’s case was gone. (I later learned that Thappon’s taperecordings had been stolen from his Harley Street office during the hours of the previous night.)
Then it was my turn—by which time my head was spinning with the mad thoughts whirling round and around inside it. Dully, mechanically, I told the police as much as I knew of the evening’s occurrences, which was not a great deal. All the while, I had to fight to keep myself under control. They were so, well, professional about it all. But then, when they asked me for a description of my car, my control finally went. I laughed hysterically and told them not to worry about the car: first thing in the morning I would go down to Dilham and pick it up myself...
<
~ * ~
Brian Lumley, Beneath the Moors and Darker Places