Karson is coming again today. It’s been almost daily for three weeks. He’s been researching leads for me, and he helped convince the staff to let me read my file. All I’ve found are more questions and a gnawing in my mind that I’m really not crazy, despite evidence to the contrary. That’s what they all say around here, though.
“Good morning, Dueller.” There he is.
I wonder how long he’ll endure me, “Hi, Karson. I’m sorry to do this, but I gotta take it from the top again. Something’s missing. I know it.”
::sigh:: “Alright, Dueller. We tracked an occultist named Derrick Mathews to Kom Ombo, Egypt. We split up and I found you convulsing and babbling in the temple. Even after you stabilized, you didn’t make any sense, and you were committed here at Arkham. Mathews hasn’t been seen since. That was eighteen years ago.”
If only I could remember what really happened then, “And I stayed that way until three weeks ago?”
“Yes,” I can see he’s getting bored and maybe a little sad too, “You escaped, brutally murdered a Professor from Miskatonic University who was doing research at the Pickman Memorial Museum along with a guard. You were found unconscious and blood soaked in the back ally of the museum and returned here. The next morning you started talking coherently for the first time since Kom Ombo.”
I couldn’t have done that. I shot him and he didn’t bleed, “So the last eighteen years of being a private investigator is all what, a fabrication of my mind?”
“Doctor Petrov believes you concocted it subconsciously the night of the murders as a coping mechanism. I checked with the business bureau. You’ve never held a P.I. license. No one at Miskatonic or the museum remembers ever meeting you, and Professor Gerrits was never missing. There were some odd coincidences with the other cases you mentioned working, but none of the clients you named know who you are,” That doesn’t leave me much to work with, Karson.
“Okay, now let me think …” What’s missing? “Wait a minute! How do they know who I killed?”
“There was enough carrion for two bodies, and Gerrits and the guard are missing.”
That’s it! “There were two guards, Karson! I didn’t kill Gerrits at all!”
He’s not impressed, “Then why hasn’t anyone heard from him?”
“There never was an Elwood Gerrits! It was Mathews! That day at the temple he summoned something into himself and it changed him; that’s how he disappeared!” I’m losing his interest, but I’m figuring it all out, “He finally freed it from himself at the museum, and now he’s changed back, making ‘Gerrits’ disappear!”
“That’s great, Dueller,” he doesn’t believe me, “Unfortunately it’s not a theory that will get you out of here, and now that you’re cognizant they’ll prosecute you for the murders properly.”
It doesn’t matter now. I know who I’m looking for. It’s time for a real escape!
“Good morning, Dueller.” There he is.
I wonder how long he’ll endure me, “Hi, Karson. I’m sorry to do this, but I gotta take it from the top again. Something’s missing. I know it.”
::sigh:: “Alright, Dueller. We tracked an occultist named Derrick Mathews to Kom Ombo, Egypt. We split up and I found you convulsing and babbling in the temple. Even after you stabilized, you didn’t make any sense, and you were committed here at Arkham. Mathews hasn’t been seen since. That was eighteen years ago.”
If only I could remember what really happened then, “And I stayed that way until three weeks ago?”
“Yes,” I can see he’s getting bored and maybe a little sad too, “You escaped, brutally murdered a Professor from Miskatonic University who was doing research at the Pickman Memorial Museum along with a guard. You were found unconscious and blood soaked in the back ally of the museum and returned here. The next morning you started talking coherently for the first time since Kom Ombo.”
I couldn’t have done that. I shot him and he didn’t bleed, “So the last eighteen years of being a private investigator is all what, a fabrication of my mind?”
“Doctor Petrov believes you concocted it subconsciously the night of the murders as a coping mechanism. I checked with the business bureau. You’ve never held a P.I. license. No one at Miskatonic or the museum remembers ever meeting you, and Professor Gerrits was never missing. There were some odd coincidences with the other cases you mentioned working, but none of the clients you named know who you are,” That doesn’t leave me much to work with, Karson.
“Okay, now let me think …” What’s missing? “Wait a minute! How do they know who I killed?”
“There was enough carrion for two bodies, and Gerrits and the guard are missing.”
That’s it! “There were two guards, Karson! I didn’t kill Gerrits at all!”
He’s not impressed, “Then why hasn’t anyone heard from him?”
“There never was an Elwood Gerrits! It was Mathews! That day at the temple he summoned something into himself and it changed him; that’s how he disappeared!” I’m losing his interest, but I’m figuring it all out, “He finally freed it from himself at the museum, and now he’s changed back, making ‘Gerrits’ disappear!”
“That’s great, Dueller,” he doesn’t believe me, “Unfortunately it’s not a theory that will get you out of here, and now that you’re cognizant they’ll prosecute you for the murders properly.”
It doesn’t matter now. I know who I’m looking for. It’s time for a real escape!
And with Arkham's revolving door policy, I have the utmost confidence in Dueller's chances. :o)
ReplyDeleteI wonder about his partner though. With the rate the plot twists are dropping, can he really be trusted? Hmmmmmm.