Dark Conflict

  DARK CONFLICT

  John Glasby

  © 2017 by the Estate of John Glasby

  John Glasby has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

  This edition published in 2017 by Venture Press, an imprint of Endeavour Press Ltd.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One – Journey into Evil

  Chapter Two – The Mask of Darkness

  Chapter Three – Something Evil

  Chapter Four – Against the Darkness

  Chapter Five – The Messenger!

  Chapter Six – The Voodoo Curse

  Chapter Seven – Terror by Day

  Chapter Eight – The Transposition

  Chapter Nine – The Thing That Kills

  Chapter Ten – The Dark Ones

  Chapter Eleven – The Devil Incarnate

  Chapter Twelve – Lycanthrope!

  Chapter Thirteen – Death in the Jungle

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  Chapter One – Journey into Evil

  The plane banked steeply, came down over the London airport through swarming clouds which seemed to press in on all sides, cloaking the ground below until it was only dimly seen. From the air, whenever it was possible to see through the storm, London looked like a toy city sprawling out over the landscape, then it began to expand rapidly as the plane went down.

  Stephen Nayland sat at ease in his seat, feeling the seat belt tighten momentarily around him as the note of the straining engines altered subtly. Beside him, the tall figure of Richard Blake, legs thrust out straight in front of him, stirred slightly.

  ‘What does it look like out there?’ he asked

  Nayland shrugged. ‘Pretty thick,’ he said. ‘We may have some difficulty getting into the city unless the fog lifts a little.’

  ‘I’ve arranged for a hire car at the airport, but if the fog thickens we may not be able to use it.’

  ‘Maybe you’d better put me into the picture fully,’ Nayland said. ‘There may not be another chance before we reach Merrivale’s place and I don’t want you to have to do any explaining to me in front of him.’ There was a slight silence as the other peered out of the window of the plane at the yellow fog that seemed to hold them in a never-ending cloud of pale yellow light.

  Then Blake said briefly: ‘I know you’ve spent almost a couple of years on that remote Scottish island in the Hebrides and you may be wondering why it was so urgent I should go up there to see you myself. The point is that I needed to see you to get your opinion first without having to drag you all the way to London if my fears are completely unfounded.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘There isn’t much more to tell. Most of it I’ve simply pieced together from the few facts I’ve been able to learn. If I’m right there may not be much time as far as Merrivale’s concerned.’

  Nayland sat tautly upright in his seat, feeling the odd little vibrations of the plane running through his body, reaching up into his brain, scratching oddly at his nerves. ‘Go on,’ he said thinly.

  ‘I had a letter from him a couple of weeks ago. It’s been quite a while since he last wrote which, in itself, is unusual for him. Usually, he lets me know how things are going on every week or so.’

  ‘And what he mentioned in his letter made you think that there’s something fishy going on at his place?’

  Blake shook his head. ‘It was what he didn’t say in his letter that worried me. I got in touch with you as soon as possible. You’ve had more experience with this kind of thing, since that strange happening in Egypt a year ago.’

  ‘You think it’s as bad as that?’

  ‘Maybe. It seems he’s been taking up these evil rites with some — dangerous — people. He tried to pass it off as a joke in his letter, but I pride myself on being able to read between the lines and I’m afraid it’s something more than just a joke. He’s in it right up to the neck. He’s also aquired an acient African mask and headdress. He says he bouhjt it in some old curio shop in London, some place tucked away in one of the backstreets.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘I haven’t seen it myself but I’ve heard of the shop where he got it and my guess is that it’s the real thing — one of those the Shamans used during their horrific rites.’

  ‘Have you any idea why he might have done such a foolish thing and put himself into the hands of these people?’

  ‘He’s a strange man at times,’ Blake said. ‘I’ve been watching him closely during the past couple of years. I think he fell in with them because he felt that he was empty inside, that there was very little purpose to his life. Since that accident eighteen months ago he hasn’t been able to get around very much as you know. He misses all of the old excitement.

  ‘I used to see quite a lot of him whenever I was in London. I suppose you did yourself. But he abruptly terminated his visits to me, and any invitations for me to visit him, a little over four months ago.

  ‘He believed that he had some other goal in life, something extremely important. He didn’t tell me what this goal was, but at the time I suspected it was just another fantasy. From what I’ve been able to piece together, I gather that he’s finally moved completely into this evil world.’

  ‘If he has, we may find it difficult to bring him back. Black Magic is all right if you treat it lightly and know when to get out, but if you take it at all seriously and get into it too deeply, they’ll never let you go without a fight.’

  ‘Then you believe with me that he’s in danger?’ Blake looked at Nayland sharply.

  ‘It’s possible. I’ll know better once I’ve met him and had a talk with him.’

  ‘Maybe he won’t want to see us.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to force our way into him.’

  Outside, the ground came up suddenly, flashing past the plane with an incredible swiftness as the wheels touched the ground.

  As the plane stopped, Nayland unfastened his seat belt quickly and stood up. There was a tense feeling of alarm growing in the pit of his stomach, but he kept his face expressionless as he turned to face the other. ‘Let’s get to that car you’ve got waiting. I’ve got a feeling in my bones that things won’t wait for long before something breaks.’

  *

  The winter evening was dark and still and filled with a faint washing of rain that came drizzling down through the fog. But apart from the rain beating like tiny fists on the glass, streaking the windows, and the purring of the engine, there seemed to be an absolute silence that wrapped itself around them, eating into Nayland’s body.

  He tried vainly to concentrate on what Blake had told him on the plane. If what the other had said was anywhere near the truth, there might be little they could do for Merrivale. Why the devil had the other been so foolish? Surely he could have seen where all this was bound to lead. It wasn’t as if he was a child who didn’t understand these dark things.

  He peered out of the car window. It was difficult to see the wet surface of the road and yet his companion at the wheel seemed to have no difficulty in finding his way through the maze of streets which passed them on either side, half seen in the swirling mist.

  Nayland shuddered inwardly although he didn’t quite know why. There was something awful about to happen. He had no idea what it would be, but he knew with a strange sort of inner conviction that it would happen in spite of everything he could do.

  He had the strangely persistent idea that there was something dark and horrible waiting somewhere for him in th
e very near future, just out of sight at the moment, but lurking there with a patient stillness, ready to leap forward and overwhelm him at the first opportunity.

  He sensed that Blake was thinking and feeling the same, despite the unerring way he was guiding the car through the darkness and the swirling mist.

  The utter quiet and stillness around them seemed to be peopled with soundless, half-noticed things that flitted on the very edge of his vision, moving swiftly and noiselessly in the silence. He found himself sweating a little in spite of the chilliness of the night air.

  Fiercely he controlled his mind. Perhaps once they reached Merrivale’s place in the city and had a straight talk with him, these ghosts that peopled his imagination would fall into their proper perspective and he would find himself laughing at them.

  But maybe, his mind persisted, something really was wrong and there was something waiting for them that was not of this world, lurking in their path, knowing by some strange sense that they were coming.

  ‘Well,’ said Blake suddenly, ‘we’re nearly there.’ He spoke with a forced cheerfulness. ‘Now we’ll soon get to the bottom of this mystery.’

  The car moved over to the side of the road and the tall buildings became more distinct. The fog seemed to have thinned a little during their journey, or perhaps it was because they were a little nearer to the river and there was a slight breeze blowing off the water.

  Blake’s features were pale as the car stopped outside one of the houses. Switching off the engine, he fumbled a little nervously with the door of the car as he got out and stood waiting for Nayland.

  Nayland looked towards the windows where a square of yellow light showed through the fog.

  ‘I never mentioned to him that we were coming,’ Blake said. ‘I thought it might be best if we dropped in on him unexpectedly. If he knew we were coming he’d see to it that we discovered nothing.’

  ‘Best way,’ agreed Nayland, ‘but it looks as though he’s got company.’

  ‘That’s a pity,’ Blake said. ‘He won’t thank us for breaking in on him at a time like this if he has guests. But I’m ready to gatecrash his party if you are. I dare say the worst he can do is to have us thrown out.’

  Blake stood for a long moment, staring up at the gaunt shape of the building. The single light in the window seemed to stare down at them through the swirling fog like an evil, unblinking eye, watching their every move.

  ‘I’ve tried to put myself in Merrivale’s place,’ he said finally, ‘but I still can’t figure out why he did such a stupid thing as this.’ He stared up at the tall building, as though trying to see through the walls into what lay beyond.

  ‘Simon Merrivale isn’t a fool,’ Nayland said. ‘He hasn’t gone into this thing with his eyes shut, but that isn’t the same thing. These people are far more dangerous than we give them credit for. They make things seem so easy and innocent at first. If God won’t give you the things you want, and the things that you think you ought to have, then why not ask the Devil for them? At first, it’s all so tremendously exciting.

  ‘It gives you a sense of power and there are few men in Merrivale’s position who can resist that. It isn’t until later that you realize just what kind of a black web of evil you’ve woven around yourself.

  ‘By that time, you’re in it so deep that you can’t get out. Besides, you’ve already seen something of their power and it isn’t long before you realize that their weird mumbo-jumbo really works. They can do these things they’ve boasted about. In fact, they can kill you quite easily if you refuse to carry out their orders.’

  In front of the house that was set back from the road by a short gravel drive, were big hedges and trees of evergreen that had been carefully clipped into the shapes of animals after the Italian style. Beyond them, at the end of the drive, three stone steps led up to the front door.

  The windows that looked out on to the street had a sense of aloofness about them that gave an added touch of dismal grandeur to the place and the immense front door, beneath the rounded stone arch, was of oak banded with iron.

  They crossed the narrow terrace without speaking and stood in front of the tall door. There was a grotesque metal knocker that Nayland raised and then allowed to fall so that the echoes chased themselves through the corridor beyond before losing themselves in the distance.

  ‘God, what a place,’ said Blake hoarsely. ‘I always get the creeps whenever I come here. Why Merrivale keeps it on beats me.’

  Nayland nodded. The heavy knocker, a hideous bronze head, a Gorgon’s face, distorted and ugly in its reality, with widely staring metal eyes, stared at him with a terror that was somehow beyond life.

  There was a long silence. All around them the stunted bushes and dryly whispering leaves seemed to mutter warningly.

  Nayland’s head jerked abruptly. The sound of heavy footsteps shuffling along an echo-ringing passage, reached their ears. A wooden board creaked behind the door.

  Then a lock rattled and there was the sound of a heavy chain being drawn back. Nayland glanced at Blake out of the corner of his eye. Something was wrong when their friend, Merrivale, had to lock his door like this at such an early hour.

  The door swung open on protesting hinges and Nayland saw a tall, bulky figure outlined against the flood of yellow light. It was impossible to see the details of the man’s face in the shadow, but he had the unmistakable impression of eyes boring into his own with a penetrating stare.

  ‘Yes?’ There was a question in the other’s voice.

  ‘We’d like to see Mr. Merrivale,’ said Nayland harshly.

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible, sir. Mr. Merrivale has very important guests this evening. He left word that he wasn’t to be disturbed on any account.’

  ‘Then I’m afraid that we must insist.’ Nayland spoke sharply. ‘However important his guests are, it is more important that we speak with him now.’

  ‘Tomorrow, perhaps,’ said the manservant.

  ‘Tonight,’ said Nayland tensely. The feeling that something was terribly wrong suddenly crystallized in his mind. He propelled himself forward, jamming his foot inside the door as the other attempted to close it in their faces.

  ‘Now. take us to Mr. Merrivale right away, otherwise I won’t answer for the consequences.’

  ‘This is highly irregular.’ The manservant’s voice was a sibilant whisper, ‘but I’ll find out whether Mr. Merrivale can see you. If you’ll just wait here for a moment.’

  He led them into the long, thickly-carpeted hallway. Hanging along its walls were trophies of past safaris in African jungles and the plains of India. Nayland stood perfectly still, looking about him.

  Everything seemed normal. As far as his memory served him, nothing had been altered since he had last visited this place almost a year earlier.

  But in spite of the unchanged appearance of his surroundings, there was an undercurrent of insidious warning that he noticed immediately, something which sent little thrills of ice spilling up and down the muscles of his back. The difference in this place was subtle, but horrible.

  He turned to Blake. ‘Don’t you feel something odd about this place?’ he asked suddenly.

  ‘Odd?’ The other looked puzzled.

  ‘It’s just a feeling I’ve got. Strange I’ve never noticed it whenever I came here earlier.’

  ‘I don’t sense anything different. It’s just the same old place as far as I can see.’

  Nayland ran a finger along his cheek. The little germ of suspicion in his mind began to grow, tightening into a tiny knot of apprehensive fear in his chest.

  Everything about him was suddenly ominous. This long hallway with its heavy curtains over the windows, drawn so tightly together so as to deny them even the slightest glimpse of outside — that manservant, obviously a foreigner of some kind, whom he had never seen before — the way the man had tried so deliberately to get rid of them as if there was something taking place here about which they ought to know nothing.

&nbs
p; A door creaked noisily somewhere in the dark distance and a faint mutter of conversation reached his ears. A moment later there was the sound of slow, hesitant footsteps approaching the door at the end of the hallway. It opened suddenly and there, looking out at them with an expression of surprise on his heavy, fleshy features, stood Merrivale.

  He came forward slowly and extended his hand.

  ‘Why, Nayland — and you too, Blake. This is a surprise, but it’s good to see you after all this time.’ There was a strained tone of forced geniality in his voice. His lips twitched into a thin smile, but it never reached his eyes.

  ‘Sorry we burst in on you like this, but we didn’t realize that you had important guests,’ Blake said.

  ‘Oh that’s all right.’ The expression on his face showed both embarrassment and fear, thought Nayland.

  ‘I was told that you wanted to see me about something of the greatest importance,’ Merrivale went on, his eyes averted. ‘Are you sure that it won’t wait until tomorrow? I’m afraid I can’t leave my guests for long.’

  Nayland looked at him directly. ‘This isn’t like you,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ve never kept any secrets from each other in the past.’

  Merrivale stared back at him, his face suddenly expressionless. ‘Secrets?’ he repeated. ‘But there’s nothing like that. It’s simply that I’ve arranged a very special party for my guests and they’ll be — annoyed — if I don’t go in to them.’

  ‘I’ll bet they will.’ Nayland took a step forward towards the partly opened door ‘Just what’s happening through there, Merrivale?’

  The other stepped back swiftly and placed himself squarely in front of the door. He gave a nervous smile.

  ‘There’s nothing happening, Nayland. Now be a good fellow and call back again tomorrow. If I’d received any warning of your coming, I might have been able to invite both of you. After all, you are my closest friends, but as it is I’m afraid that it’s impossible now.’