Astanael

Nyogtha again

‘Leigh strode to the center of the room, staring at the chair that stood on the black circle of stone. “You work here?” he asked slowly.
“Yes. It’s quiet—I found I couldn’t work upstairs. Too noisy. But this is ideal—somehow I find it very easy to write here. My mind feels"—he hesitated—"free; that is, disassociated with other things. It’s quite an unusual feeling.”
Leigh nodded as though Carson’s words had confirmed some idea in his own mind. He turned toward the alcove and the metal disk in the floor. Carson followed him. The occultist moved close to the wall, tracing out the faded symbols with a long forefinger. He muttered something under his breath—words that sounded like gibberish to Carson.
“Nyogtha … k’yarnak …”
He swung about, his face grim and pale. “I’ve seen enough,” he said softly. “Shall we go?” Surprised, Carson nodded and led the way back into the cellar.
Upstairs Leigh hesitated, as though finding it difficult to broach his subject. At length he asked, “Mr. Carson—would you mind telling me if you have had any peculiar dreams lately.”’

– Henry Kuttner, “The Salem Horror”

Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook from my Great Old Ones & Their Kin series
Criterium sur Carnet A6, extrait de la série Grands Anciens et leurs séides

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