[This story was heavily inspired by H.P. Lovecraft. Since most of my stories take place in Lovecraft country, I felt it was time I finally came up with a horror-oriented story with some of my old characters. The following contains elements of incest, so if that offends you, please read no further.]
La'Tonya Morse looked at the clock as her car sped past the Massachusetts state line on I-84 east. It was only 11 a.m. She never quite got over how small the New England states were in comparison to the southern states where she was originally from. Like so many others, the horrid storm that devastated New Orleans two years back left her without a home, and after much searching, she forced herself to realize that Hurricane Katrina claimed her mother as well. La'Tonya spent the past two years couch surfing at the homes of various friends, acquaintances, and old girlfriends. Her travels took her all across the south, leading her inexplicably to the northeast. She couldn't put her finger on exactly why she was going in that direction. She remembered fondly her tenure at the University of Southern Maine, and how the time not consumed by her studies was enjoyed in the arms of her attractive roommate, a voluptuous brunette named Rachel.
She felt a familiar tingle at the thought of her former lover, and the memory of how she helped soothe the girl's broken heart. They parted amicably, and last she had heard, Rachel and her boyfriend had reconciled. Apparently, their breakup was the result of a terrible deception by her mother. They lost touch due to the storm, and even then, the news was a year old when La'Tonya finally learned it. That was the only time La'Tonya had heard from her friend. She assumed that Rachel had been busy with her new place and new job, and with rebuilding her old relationship. She could also feel her friend drifting away, as old school friends often do. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible had happened.
* * * * *
La'Tonya awoke in her hotel bed drenched in sweat. It was the same nightmare she had been having since the hurricane, and it had been getting worse with each passing day. She would be submerged in briny water, but yet she could breathe. She'd feel the current pulling her inexplicably to a bizarre city, with unusual angles, domes, and crooked spires. Then someone would swim towards her in the distance. It was only last night that she was able to see the city or the man. She never saw that city before, and it unnerved her. The terrifying part for her was that it seemed vaguely familiar. Reaching into her day-bag, she pulled out a vial of eye drops and squeezed some into her eyes. They had started to itch so badly that it was beginning to hurt.
After stumbling out of bed and showering, she appraised her appearance in the mirror. La'Tonya had always been a very large woman, but she carried herself well and had always been considered beautiful by men and women alike. She dried and combed her long, black, curly hair and put on her makeup, accentuating her sea-foam green eyes. Her mother, an equally beautiful woman of African descent, had always told her that she had inherited her father's eyes. Curiously, she'd shudder when mentioning this; La'Tonya had always chalked it up to her father being abusive to her mother, which was why she had never met him.
She dressed and then dialed Rachel's phone number, but to no avail. Her father said that Rachel had moved to a town called "Dunnich".
"You mean 'Dunwich'?" La'Tonya asked.
"Yeah, that's right. I wish you people from away would learn how to talk right," he said with a heavy Yankee accent and a laugh. "Anyway, that was the last me or the wife heard from her."
La'Tonya could tell that he wasn't telling her the truth, or at least the whole truth. Still, he seemed nice enough…hardly the ogre Rachel had made him out to be. She thanked him and hung up. La'Tonya then proceeded to look for her friend in the phone book, but found no 'Tarunens' in Dunwich. She had a thought and looked under 'Cho', Randy's family name. She found none in Dunwich, but found an 'HJ Cho' in Arkham and an 'RJ Cho' in New Innsmouth Beach.
Innsmouth.
The name made La'Tonya's skin crawl, but she couldn't figure out why. She entertained the notion of calling the number and, if it was in fact Randy and Rachel's phone number, she'd meet them in a neighboring city. However, she had no way of knowing whether it was Randy or someone else. She then realized that she was being very childish, and decided that Innsmouth was to be her destination.
* * * * *
She checked into the Best Western in the heart of New Innsmouth Beach a little past 1 p.m. She discovered that the town was really a tourist trap with seafood shacks, hotels, various bars and taverns, and even a fairground complete with video arcades. She was surprised at how much ground the Innsmouth area covered. Most of the inland area was taken up by a quaint little suburb while the southern tip was clearly where the well-to-do lived, not unlike Newport, RI. At any case, she felt that the worst she'd have to deal with was a group of rowdy frat boys or an over amorous drunk, both of which she could easily contend with.
She walked into one of the bars and ordered a beer. Each sip eased away the last of her jitters, and eventually she felt the corners of her mouth curl into a smile. She scanned the crowd and saw a fair amount of tourists, and even a couple of locals. One of them, a heavy-set black man with wiry grey hair, nodded and smiled. She got off the stool and approached the man, and asked if she could take the chair across from him. "Of course, darlin'," he said in a raspy voice, his Southern accent readily apparent. "Not too often I meet a gal from back home."
"Where's home?" she asked.
"Memphis," he said in a slow drawl. "Born and raised. Moved here with the wife back in '72, God rest her soul."
"I'm from N'Awlins," she said. "Kinda passin' through." She passed an old picture she had of Rachel and Randy to the man and said, "Would you have seen these two around here?"
"The girl, no. But the boy, hell yeah. That's Randy Joe Cho. I've seen a lot of cats play, but I never thought I hear the blues played so well from a Chinese kid," he said with a chuckle.
"I think he's actually Korean," La'Tonya said, returning the laugh.
"Bah," he rasped. "Don't matter none. Point is he can make a Stratocaster sit up and beg for mercy. Nice kid, too. He an' his band usually play at the Stinky Fish Face. It's on the other side o' town, kinda close to the bad section. You watch yourself 'round there. They ain't friendly."
"I think I can handle myself," she said. "So when are they playin'?"
"Tonight, I reckon," the old man said. "I'd go, but I don't really like goin' there. Usually I see them play at Empty Belly's in Arkham."
"
Merci beau coups, mon ami
," she said as she stood up.
"Pleasure's all mine, darlin'," the man said, kissing her hand. "Aw reservoir!"
As she left the bar, she looked at a nearby map and easily found the Stinky Fish Face. It was close to the northern section of town on the coast, just before the coastline formed an open circle. Walking along the coast, she could see in the northern horizon that the town started to become more and more decrepit, the buildings much older and run down. Looking out to sea, she could see the dim outline of a black reef that cut like a hole in the otherwise calm ocean. All along the beach, she could see warnings posted of a strong undercurrent, and for parents to be mindful of their children lest they get pulled under. She could also see young people ignoring the warnings on their body boards. Nevertheless, the beach was beautiful, if a bit empty. La'Tonya figured it was because of the undercurrent, and the fact that the sun was very hot, making the heat reflections off the sand nearly unbearable. She turned around and could see that it didn't prevent people from coming to the town to have fun. She resumed her stroll towards the bar, and as she got closer, she could see posters depicting missing persons appearing in greater frequency, as well as a thinning of the general populace. She walked for nearly two hours until she finally arrived at her destination.
It was an old, weathered building with a sign hanging over the door bearing a sea bass with a clothespin over his nose, flanked on both sides by guitars. She could barely see the worn letters depicting the name of the establishment. One of the outside walls was practically wallpapered with Missing Persons posters and advertisements for local bands. Despite her better judgment, she stepped inside and proceeded to find a clean table, with a great deal of difficulty. The inside of the tavern could be politely called a shithole. She wondered how many Health Code violations could be levied at this establishment, and was thankful that she went to the bathroom before she got there.
