"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" Miss Roberta asked with concern written over her face.
"Thank you very much, but we still have some things to investigate in the town." Inase formed his very proper-sounding response. "People are still missing."
"I see… Best of luck to you. I hope the culprit will be found soon."
"Thanks." Inase smiled lightheartedly.
"If you need any more assistance, I am always glad to help."
"Alright. We'll get in touch if needed."
Bowing his head, he turned to the boat where Hosen already made himself comfortable and hopped on it with ease.
And pushing off the skerry's dark rocks with an oar, they already slid across the water's surface back to Rockport.
"Goodbye, Miss Roberta." A quick salute, as they became smaller in the distance.
Inase plopped on the seat, letting the boat rock on the waves and sprinkling wet breeze inside of this rickety, wooden shell.
"Well, that was definitely something."
Exhaling in satisfaction, he leaned against the edge, dangerously tipping the boat to one side—it made the other freeze with concerns of falling over.
"I guess we've found an eldritch influence we were looking for."
"..."
The scientist, however, was lost in thought without explaining why.
"At least we have a hint." Inase continued. "Manifesting from dreams, all the sea paintings, we know it's a message from the Slumbering One (1)*. Easy peasy, we destroy the connection, and we are done with this job."
He relaxed, using his hands as a pillow by propping them behind his head.
"All we need to do is to find it." His companion agreed.
"That's probably the cause for everything that's been happening at the port. Fish and people missing, people going mad and turning to kill each other, the usual."
If the connection is sealed, all of this madness should disappear too, was Inase's guess.
"And the painter's affected because she is surrounded by the sea."
"...or, because she's the closest to the catalyst," Hosen added.
"I haven't seen any nooks on the skerry." His claim caught Hosen's attention. "I've ventured out when she was painting you. Looked around the isle, but found nothing suspicious."
"Efficient."
"Thank you."
The blonde liked to use every approaching opportunity to his advantage, no matter the cost.
"Carpe diem is my motto."
Was that the first time he earned a compliment from the grumpy guy?
If so, then he could be proud of that achievement. He thought it wouldn't be easy to slip away from her sight and venture around, but the artist's absolute focus proved him wrong.
"It was easier than I thought."
Now, the only thing remaining was to find the right spot and get rid of it.
Hosen wholeheartedly agreed—the faster they take action, the safer it should be for the locals.
And if anyone would ask them to choose between a budding artist's work and people's lives, their answer should be obvious,
"Time to destroy that inspiration of hers."
However, they wouldn't have known that beneath their boat, the bottom of the ocean had its own shadows moving around, slithering their way straight to the city…
***
They stepped out to the docks, mooring the boat right where they took it from.
The old man Jenkens was happy that nothing happened to his beauty.
"Good job, lads. You brought her home in one piece."
Mr.Jenkens smacked Inase's back a few times, expressing his joy.
"Obviously, old man. Couldn't be bringing back a wreck, could we…"
Looking to the side, his partner had disappeared somewhere again—like a phantom on the run—without a trace.
Understanding his pattern, Inase looked around like he was used to it already.
He spotted Hosen close by, with his hood covering his face.
The scientist observed the nearby stalls, diligently checking every inch of fish on display before he moved to another spot—a perfect one to stay out of people's sight.
If he didn't look suspicious enough before, now he definitely checked all the boxes.
Inase shrugged, letting his partner do whatever he pleased while he, himself, continued the pleasant conversation with Mr.Jenkens.
That was, until he heard that deep voice pierce the air and tremble the atmosphere's particles with its sole presence.
"What brings you here, pal? You're looking mighty suspicious—hard for a sharp eye like mine to miss."
He's really on our asses, isn't he…
Inase's brow furrowed when he spotted the individual from a distance.
It turned out to be Detective Watson, holding onto Hosen's wrist so that he wouldn't escape.
Upon the sudden touch, the scientist froze, trying to fight his will to shake the detective's hand off of him, panic rising in his eyes.
"How are you going to explain yourself, hm?"
The man persisted in getting answers, though.
The fight or flight response triggered in Hosen's struggles to stay rational. Words and equations shattered before his eyes since his only thought right now was to dash for it—far away from the one who clutched around his forearm.
If it went for a little longer, he would-
"It's alright, Detective. He's with me."
Thankfully, Inase came to the rescue right on time.
"Oh-" This caused the man to let go of Hosen, who sighed in relief. "Well, if it isn't my dependable partner, Will!"
"Nice to see you again, sir." Inase forced a smile and strongly shook the man's palm. "How's the investigation going?"
"Eh, same old story. Two bodies turned up, but no sign of the perp." He looked the blonde in the eye. "Yours?"
"Found nothing so far."
Inase expressed disappointment with his lie.
"..." Though, it was hard to deceive a keen-eyed man with investigative experience, "...are you certain about that?"
He gave him a suspicious look.
"Really." But, Inase didn't feel pressured whatsoever.
As they know, this one was not as smart as he thought he was. Even with a forceful persuasion attempt on the young man, it was still not enough for him to confess his findings.
"Nothing to find in this boring place."
"Ah-haha!"
The man instantly cheered up, patting Inase's shoulder in recognition.
"It's alright, I just wanted to give you a bit of a scare." The mood turned brighter. "Not sure if you've caught wind of this yet, but I figured I'd fill you in anyway." Watson continued. "Good old Drunkard Dick has gone missing."
"Yes, so we've heard. The bar's lonely without him." Quite unfortunate that he, of all people, had to be the next target. "I hope we can find him quickly before…" It would be too late.
"I wish so, too." Detective nodded. "If you come across any clues, meet me on the east side of the pub—my private chambers are there. For now, I, Detective Watson, will brave the cold winds and the shroud of mist, hunting for the villain who dared to sully the harmony of this society with their wicked deeds and—!"
"Alright, alright… Do your best, detective."
Their cue to leave has come as the man, yet again, was lost in his own world of narrative.
Inase hooked Hosen's neck around and brought him out of there like the good old pal that he was.
"Not very comfortable with human touch, I see." He whispered after they walked away, and Hosen shrugged the guy off. "I saw panic in your eyes."
"..." His silence confirmed Inase's assumptions. "It'd bring too many problems."
He could say that, but not because he was a germaphobe—nothing like that. It was more about what would happen if someone touched him for too long.
"It's a pain to explain my condition."
"Not that I care about tha…"
A single moment of distraction was all it took for the scientist to vanish from his side, already across the street and asking someone for directions. It almost made Inase slap his forehead in frustration.
Again… really?
"Do you know of any caves nearby?"
The person in question seemed confused at the sudden stranger talking to him out of nowhere, even more so because he was asking something so oddly specific, yet out of place.
"No… I don't think so."
He gave a careful response.
"Then-"
"Come on. We will find it ourselves." But Inase pulled him away by his collar.
***
And so, the two stood at the base of the cliff, an oil lantern in hand, its faint glow barely cutting through the approaching darkness and the thick fog rolling in from the sea.
They trudged along the edge, searching for any entrance into the depths of the land.
Their focus was particularly on the area directly across from the painter's mansion, knowing it was the closest point where she might have been affected.
If there were anyone who worshipped eldritch beings by the waters, they'd likely choose a secret meeting place—perhaps a shrine of some sort. Such a place was almost a sanctuary, offering safety for whatever dark rituals they wished to perform.
They had been searching for quite a while, until a hollow, yawning mouth revealed itself, hidden between a few cliff rocks—a sneaky entrance no one would have noticed otherwise.
A cave.
The roar of the waves crashing against the shore relentlessly bounced off its stone walls, amplifying the horrific sound within. The air, damp and biting, was sucked inside the dark tunnel as if it invited the two guests to follow its trace.
"This is the place."
When they stepped inside, the cold seeped into the stone, making the floor slick with moisture, while an unsettling silence hung in the deeper recesses, broken only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.
Their oil lamps faintly illuminated the path ahead, allowing them to dwell deeper into the unknown depths of the natural structure.
It didn't take long to stumble upon ancient writings.
"We've found it."
Etched into the stone walls, written in dried-up blood that oddly glowed with crimson hue, the letters, the words, the sentences, the incantations, all seemed undecipherable to an average human; the source of the spreading, malicious energy around town.
"..."
Hosen closed in, gliding his fingers along the words of foreign origins, carefully studying its every stroke. In silence, he tried to understand the passage of a lunatic who had hidden within the town's boundaries.
"Is it R'lyeh?" Inase asked, not recognizing the language that was used. "Ouch-!"
Soon, he realized the sudden sting on his finger was caused by none other than his buddy who cut through the glove with Inase's own knife. His blood seeped through the material like a fresh supply of widely accessible ink.
"No, it's something else," Hosen replied while he smeared his partner's blood over the ancient letters, overwriting it with a thorough hand, "but it doesn't matter. The neutralization process is always the same. Anyone can do it as long as they understand the stroke patterns of any language."
The truth was, he had never seen this one before, so he had to guess quite a lot. However, with how many others he had researched, it was much easier to find the patterns within the range of any linguistic studies.
Thus, deducing the direction of each stroke of the letter and then replicating them in reverse wasn't as hard for his vast knowledge, but it still required great focus.
Inase could easily disrupt it, complaining about why the scientist couldn't use his blood instead, but he didn't mind it too much—getting rid of an eldritch rift that caused harm was more crucial than a finger prick.
Though, Hosen could have warned him beforehand.
Still, he stood on the side with crossed arms, quietly observing the man do his magic, until, not even twenty minutes later…
"I'm done."
Hosen's tense shoulders had relaxed, to which Inase could finally scoff.
This level of tension only proved how meticulous he was about eradicating every trace of otherworldly influence—sometimes even too meticulous to the point of hyperfixating on it.
So cautious, Inase rolled his eyes.
"We need to close every connection between eldritch dreams and people." Even though the blonde said nothing, the scientist could already tell what he was thinking, "So that no madness would spread."
"Yeah, I know."
He didn't need to repeat it every time. Inase knew perfectly well what had brought the apocalypse to their world, and that was exactly why these two were tasked with its salvation.
"So, we're done here?"
That meant, they could go back, right?
"Hm…" Hosen wasn't so sure about that just yet. "Let's check further in."
His intuition told him that something waited ahead.
"You can stay here if you want."
But he, himself, would go deeper because something wasn't right. Hosen felt goosebumps rise all over his body, even if his companion didn't feel anything.
Call it a hunch, or a sixth sense, but he couldn't just leave his curiosity unsatiated—he had to quench that thirst.
"Ah—hey!"
Before Inase could stop him, the other already ventured to the cave's depths. Navigating through the maze of stalactites, stalagmites, and columns, his throat stung when the cold air entered his lungs.
Further in, his steps echoed against the jagged walls. While squeezing through narrow gaps, he finally arrived at a chamber where he was left stunned upon discovering what lay ahead.
"..."
No sound broke the long-lasting silence, besides another set of steps approaching from behind.
"...I guess we found the missing people."
Inase couldn't leave the guy alone in the darkness, could he?
His feet chased after the other's until he, too, saw what was ahead—a room full of dead bodies...
Some were already rotten, lying there for over two weeks.
Whilst the odor wasn't as foul—thanks to the salt rinsing them now and then—these people were all killed through the same symptoms that Hosen had discovered on Mark's corpse. With eyelids wide open, unable to be closed—although their blood was seemingly washed out by the sea, so he couldn't be a hundred percent sure.
"The little angel won't see her dad again."
Though Inase tried to hide it, his voice wavered with regret for a brief moment, still hoping that what he saw wasn't true—that the man who had been missing for just a few days wouldn't be found in here.
Yet, as he gazed ahead, it became clear when his eyes fixed on the tragic sight of a pale figure—once lively and flushed with drink, joyfully recounting stories of his cherished daughter—now reduced to a lifeless corpse among others.
Drunkard Dick lay dead under their feet.
Inase's nose crinkled in distaste, which soon turned into a scornful scowl. Not at the victims but at the perpetrator who did this, or even, at himself for not being able to prevent it.
This scene just proved that if they didn't catch the issue on time, then the fate of the world would end up the same—spiraling into utter destruction.
"Aren't they who we were looking for?" The blonde stated matter of factly, trying to keep his composure. "All dead."
"Obviously, that is to be expected."
However, Hosen showed no emotional attachment to these people. His answers were rather curt, not wasting time on meaningless sorrow for people he didn't know the faces of.
"We are dealing with an unknown cause that is connected with some mystical forces. The moment they disappeared, I assumed they'd end up this way."
One glance was enough for him to gather all the information he needed. His scientific mind wouldn't have counted on anything more than finding the missing people's remains.
And predicting the worst outcomes was integrated into their job the moment they shouldered this task.
There was nothing more to do here except relay their findings to Detective Watson, who would handle this matter from that point forward.
"Where are you going—"
The rowdy one called out when he sought to honor the dead with a moment of silence, but it ended rather quickly as Hosen abruptly spun on his heel—he began making his way through the cave toward the exit.
"There's no point in us being here much longer."
They had more things to take care of than staying in this cold cave, so he left.
Hosen's steps quickened the moment he got closer to the end, but... they came to an abrupt stop at the very mouth of the exit.
The corner of his eyes noticed an oddity—something that shouldn't have existed here at all.
Naturally, they wouldn't have seen it when they first entered this cave. After all, who ever thought, figuratively speaking, about looking back at a doorframe when walking into a room?
Inase stayed close behind, only to groan in surprise when he bumped into the scientist's back.
"What now?"
But the guy didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on the wall.
So, the other's gaze followed where Hosen's had stopped, and a speechless gasp escaped his lips…
"What in the….?"
Many carvings of coordinates were carefully engraved into the stone by a sharp object.
Their edges were weathered by time, washed out by the ruthless waves when high tides came through. It was a well-thought-out series of numbers; each set was paired with a year, forming an intentional pattern.
First, a year, then coordinates—the sequence continued.
2050, 40.7485 -73.9857
1867, 63.6336 -19.5862
936, 51.1787 -1.8261
2012, 18.4482 -95.0447
1959, 61.7528 59.4577
1820, 43.6980 7.2803
1692, 42.5202 -70.8955
Both of them had a hunch these markings were left there on purpose, in hopes that someone would find it and follow its instructions.
Somehow, they knew it couldn't be found just by accident.
The date system was far too modern to be just the ramblings of a madman.
It felt personal, as though only they would notice more than what others would dismiss as meaningless scribbles—it was a message. Someone was leaving behind these traces…
"Saya…"
Inase whispered to himself in a trance, breaking the silence.
"What?"
"No, it's nothing."
He dispersed it rather quickly by shaking his head afterward.
It doesn't look like her handwriting anyway.
Regardless, Hosen approached to examine the message on the wall in detail.
Among the numerous inscriptions, which he carefully transcribed into his notebook for future analysis, one stood out—a location that was remarkably close by.
The date stated the year 1934, and the precise coordinates (quickly calculated in his head) pointed to a location they were both very familiar with,
1934, 42.5194 -70.8310
The mansion on the skerry.
Additional carvings beside it read further: CENTER HALL, 24m, 20°NW
"I figure we are going to pay our painter another visit tomorrow."
He concluded in a serious tone.
NOW
It was like the wall was conversing with them in real time.
"Or, looking at these instructions, we could slip in at night."
Inase smirked, finding a perfect opportunity to continue his crude insinuation from earlier (that his partner had visited the painter at night before), much to Hosen's irritation, who currently glared at the blonde without saying a word of objection.
"Then it's decided."
(1)*From: "The Call of Cthulhu" by H.P. Lovecraft, 1928