Read Beyond Rue Morgue Anthology Online
Authors: Paul Kane
“Drivel,” I said. “I am surprised you would concern yourself with such.”
“It was his scientific method and deep understanding of mathematics that interested me. My dear friend, much of what has become acceptable science was first ridiculed as heresy. I need not point out to you the long list of scientists opposed by the Catholic Church and labeled heretics. The points of interest concerning Dippel have to do with what I have already told you about the similarity of the blue-white lightning, and the interesting connection with the found body parts, the ape, and the curious event of the blood-stained moon, which I will come back to shortly. Firstly, however, was Dippel’s mention of the rare book. The
Necronomicon
, written by Abdul Alhazred in 950 AD, partially in math equations and partly in verse. He was sometimes referred to as ‘The Mad Arab’ by his detractors, though he was also given the moniker of ‘Arab Poet of Yemen’ by those less vicious. Of course, knowing my penchant for poetry, you might readily surmise that this is what first drew my attention to him. The other aspect of his personality, as mathematician and conjuror, was merely, at that time, of side interest, although I must say that later in life he certainly did go mad. He claimed to have discovered mathematical equations that could be used to open our world into another where powerful forces and beings existed. Not gods or demons, mind you, but different and true life forms that he called ‘The Old Ones.’ It was in this book that Dippel believed he found the key to eternal life.”
“What became of Dippel?”
“He died,” Dupin said, and smiled.
“So much for eternal life.”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps? You clearly said he died.”
“His body died, but his assistant, who was imprisoned for a time, said his soul was passed on to another form. According to what little documentation there is on the matter, Dippel’s experiments were concerned with removing a person’s soul from a living form and transferring it to a corpse. It was successful, if his assistant, Hans Grimm, can be believed. Grimm was a relative of Jacob Grimm, the future creator of
Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
But of more immediate interest to us is something he reported, that a young lady Dippel was charmed by, and who he thought would be his companion, took a fall from a horse and was paralyzed. Grimm claimed they successfully transferred her soul from her ruined body into the corpse of a recently dead young lady, which had been procured by what one might call midnight gardening. She was ‘animated with life,’ as Grimm described her, ‘but was always of some strangeness.’ That is a direct quote.”
“Dupin, surely you don’t take this nonsense seriously.”
He didn’t seem to hear me. “She was disgusted with her new form and was quoted by Grimm as saying ‘she felt as if she was inside a house with empty rooms.’ She leaped to her death from Castle Frankenstein. Lost to him, Dippel decided to concentrate on a greater love—himself. Being short of human volunteers who wanted to evacuate their soul and allow a visitor to inhabit their living form, he turned to animals for experimentation. The most important experiment was the night he died, or so says Grimm.”
“The ancestor of the creator of
Grimm’s Fairy Tales
seems an unlikely person to trust on matters of this sort.”
“That could be. But during this time Dippel was having exotic animals shipped to him in Germany, and among these was a creature called a Chimpanzee. Knowing himself sickly, and soon to die, he put his experiments to the ultimate test. He had his assistant, Grimm, by use of the formula and his funnel, transfer his soul from his disintegrating shell into the animal, which in turn eliminated the soul of the creature; the ape’s body became the house of his soul. I should add that I have some doubts about the existence of a soul, so perhaps essence would be a more appropriate word. That said, soul has a nice sound to it, I think. The experiment, according to Grimm, resulted in an abundance of blue-white lightning that caused the explosion and left Grimm injured. In fact, later Grimm disappeared from the hospital where he was being held under observation and arrest for alchemy. He was in a room with padded walls and a barred window. The bars were ripped out. It was determined the bars were pulled loose from the outside. Another curious matter was that the room in which he was contained was three floors up, a considerable drop. How did he get down without being injured? No rope or ladder was found. It was as if he had been carried away by something unknown.”
“Come, Dupin, you cannot be serious? Are you suggesting this ape pulled out the bars and carried him down the side of the wall?”
“There are certainly more than a few points of similarity between the story of Dippel and the events of tonight, don’t you think? Consider your description of how effortlessly the ape climbed the warehouse wall.”
“But, if this is Dippel, and he is in Paris, my question is how? And his ape body would be old. Very old.”
“If he managed eternal life by soul transference, then perhaps the ape body does not age as quickly as would be normal.”
“If this were true, and I’m not saying I believe it, how would he go about his life? An ape certainly could not ride the train or stroll the street without being noticed.”
“I am of the opinion that Grimm is still with him.”
“But he would be very old as well.”
“Considerably,” Dupin agreed. “I believe that the body parts you saw are for Grimm. It is my theory that Grimm received a wound that put him near death when Castle Frankenstein blew up. Dippel saved him by transferring his soul to a corpse. Unlike Dippel’s lady love, he managed to accept the transfer and survived.”
“So why did Dippel go after the body parts himself? Wouldn’t he have Grimm procure such things? It would be easier for the one with a human body to move about without drawing so much attention.”
“It would. My take is that the human soul when transferred to the soul of a corpse has one considerable drawback. The body rots. The ape body was a living body. It does not; it may age, but not in the way it would otherwise, due to this transformation. Grimm’s body, on the other hand, has to be repaired from time to time with fresh parts. It may be that he was further damaged by the more recent explosion. Which indicates to me that they have not acquired the healthy ability to learn from their mistakes.”
“After all this time, wouldn’t Dippel have transferred Grimm’s essence, or his own, into a living human being? Why would he maintain the body of an ape? And a female ape at that?”
“My thought on the matter is that Dippel may find the powerful body of an ape to his advantage. And to keep Grimm bent to his will, to maintain him as a servant, he only repairs him when he wears out a part, so to speak. Be it male or female parts, it is a matter of availability. If Grimm’s soul were transferred into a living creature, and he could live for eternity, as male or female, then he might be willing to abandon Dippel. This way, with the ape’s strength, and Dippel’s knowledge of how to repair a corpse, and perhaps the constant promise of eventually giving Grimm a living human body, he keeps him at his side. Grimm knows full well if he leaves Dippel he will eventually rot. I think this is the Sword of Damocles that he holds over Grimm’s head.”
“That is outrageous,” I said. “And wicked.”
“Absolutely, but that does not make it untrue.”
* * *
I felt cold. My pipe had died, as I had forgotten to smoke it. I relit it. “It’s just too extraordinary,” I said.
“Yet the
Necronomicon
suggests it is possible.” With that, Dupin dug into the pile of books and produced a large volume, thrusting it into my hands. Looking at it, I saw that it was covered in leather, and that in the dead center was an eye-slit. I knew immediately what I was looking at was the tanned skin of a human face. Worse, holding the book I felt nauseous. It was as if its very substance was made of bile. I managed to open the book. There was writing in Arabic, as well as a number of mathematical formulas; the words and numbers appeared to crawl. I slammed the book shut again. “Take it back,” I said, and practically tossed it at him.
“I see you are bewildered, old friend,” Dupin said, “but do keep in mind, as amazing as this sounds, it’s science we are talking about, not the supernatural.”
“It’s a revolting book,” I said.
“When I first found it in the library, I could only look at it for short periods of time. I had to become accustomed to it, like becoming acclimated to sailing at sea, and no longer suffering sea sickness. I am ashamed to admit, that after a short time I stole the book. I felt somehow justified in doing this, it being rarely touched by anyone—for good reason, as you have experienced— and in one way I thought I might be doing the world a justice, hiding it away from the wrong eyes and hands. That was several years ago. I have studied Arabic, read the volume repeatedly, and already being reasonably versed in mathematics, rapidly began to understand the intent of it. Though, until reading the newspaper account, I had been skeptical. And then there is Dippel’s history, the words of his companion, Grimm. I believe there is logic behind these calculations and ruminations, even if at first they seem to defy human comprehension. The reason for this is simple; it is not the logic of humans, but that of powerful beings who exist in the borderland. I have come to uncomfortably understand some of that logic, as much as is humanly possible to grasp. To carry this even farther, I say that Dippel is no longer himself, in not only body, but in thought. His constant tampering with the powers of the borderland have given the beings on the other side an entry into his mind, and they are learning to control him, to assist him in his desires, until their own plans come to fruition. It has taken time, but soon, he will not only be able to replace body parts, he will be capable of opening the gate to this borderland. We are fortunate he has not managed it already. These monsters are powerful, as powerful as any god man can create, and malicious without measure. When the situation is right, when Dippel’s mind completely succumbs to theirs, and he is willing to use the formulas and spells to clear the path for their entry, they will cross over and claim this world. That will be the end of humankind, my friend. And let me tell you the thing I have been holding back. The redness of the moon is an indication that there is a rip in the fabric of that which protects us from these horrid things lying in wait. Having wasted their world to nothing, they lust after ours, and Dippel is opening the gate so they might enter.”
“But how would Dippel profit from that? Allowing such things into our world?”
“Perhaps he has been made promises of power, whispers in his head that make him outrageous offers. Perhaps he is little more than a tool by now. All that matters, good friend, is that we can not allow him to continue his work.”
“If the red cloud over the moon is a sign, how much time do we have?”
“Let me put it this way: We will not wait until morning, and we will not need to question either the boy or the man who saw the lightning. By that time, I believe it will be too late.”
There was a part of me that wondered if Dupin’s studies had affected his mind. It wasn’t an idea that held, however. I had seen what I had seen, and what Dupin had told me seemed to validate it. We immediately set out on our escapade, Dupin carrying a small bag slung over one shoulder by a strap.
The rain had blown itself out and the streets were washed clean. The air smelled as fresh as the first breath of life. We went along the streets briskly, swinging our canes, pausing only to look up at the moon. The red cloud was no longer visible, but there was still a scarlet tint to the moon that seemed unnatural. Sight of that gave even more spring to my step. When we arrived at our destination, there was no one about, and the ashes had been settled by the rain.
“Keep yourself alert,” Dupin said, “in case our simian friend has returned and is in the basement collecting body parts.”
We crossed the wet soot, stood at the mouth of the basement, and after a glance around to verify no one was in sight, we descended.
Red-tinged moonlight slipped down the stairs and brightened the basement. Everything was as it had been. Dupin looked about, used his cane to tap gently at a few of the empty beakers and tubes. He then made his way to the container where I had seen the amputated limbs and decapitated heads. They were still inside, more than a bit of rainwater having flooded in, and there was a ripe stench of decaying flesh.
“These would no longer be of use to Dippel,” Dupin said. “So we need not worry about him coming back for them.”
I showed him where I had last seen the ape, then we walked to the other side. Dupin looked up and down the wall of the warehouse. We walked along its length. Nothing was found.
“Perhaps we should find a way to climb to the top,” I said.
Dupin was staring at a puff of steam rising from the street. “No, I don’t think so,” he said.
He hastened to where the steam was thickest. It was rising up from a grate. He used his cane to pry at it, and I used mine to assist him. We lifted it and looked down at the dark, mist-coated water of the sewer rushing below. The stench was, to put it mildly, outstanding.
“This would make sense,” Dupin said. “You were correct, he did indeed climb down on this side, but he disappeared quickly because he had an underground path.”
“We’re going down there?” I asked.
“You do wish to save the world and our cosmos, do you not?”
“When you put it that way, I suppose we must,” I said. I was trying to add a joking atmosphere to the events, but it came out as serious as a diagnosis of leprosy.
We descended into the dark, resting our feet upon the brick ledge of the sewer. There was light from above to assist us, but if we were to move forward, we would be walking along the slick brick runway into utter darkness. Or so I thought.
It was then that Dupin produced twists of paper, heavily oiled and waxed, from the pack he was carrying. As he removed them, I saw the
Necronomicon
was in the bag as well. It lay next to two dueling pistols. I had been frightened before, but somehow, seeing that dreadful book and those weapons, I was almost overwhelmed with terror, a sensation I would experience more than once that night. It was all I could do to take one of the twists and wait for Dupin to light it, for my mind was telling me to climb out of that dank hole and run. But if Dippel succeeded in letting the beings from the borderland through, run to where?