I do not own anything relating to the Teen Titans.

Opening the Closet Door a Crack – Chapter 15

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From the Journal of Randolph Carter – Selected Passages

July 20, 2-

If I had realized how backward this town was, I'm not sure I would have come. This town is something out of the early twentieth century. There's no appreciable electricity. So I 'm forced to abandon my laptop and use a journal for my notes. After using my laptop all day, the battery needed recharging. When I checked into the Gilman House, I examined my room and saw there were NO outlets. Calling the desk clerk, I discovered there was minimal electricity from the gas generators in the basement, just enough for the overhead lights. It's fortunate that I'm able to plug my blackberry into my car to recharge so I can call Howard, otherwise I'd be completely out of touch with the world.

Still, trying to unlock the source of mankind's belief in devils and demons is worth a little inconvenience. So, I'm back to writing my notes in a book. Between that and the stench of fish in this town, what I do for knowledge.

July 21, 2-

This is a most curious town. I tried to speak with the desk clerk and he was monosyllabic. Ugly and deformed beyond belief. From my researches, I understand this town has been secluded, almost cut off from the rest of the world. It appears that the inbreeding of the residents is some of the worst I have ever heard of. The few I've met all seem to have a skin disease that makes their hair fall out, their skin turn scaly and their eyes exhibit an unusual protubence combined with a strange inability to blink. Given the incredibly small number of residents, it appears that these people have been inbreeding for generations, well over a hundred and fifty years. I wonder if combined with the physical degeneration a mental degeneration has accompanied it? It would be consistent with observed scientific evidence.

Eating here will be a problem. There are no restaurants here and only one grocery store. The store is staffed by people from outside the town who bus in everyday. Talking with them, it seems as if there is little business actually done, save only by the younger members of the community. There do not seem to be many old folk here. Looks like it's going to be prepackaged food for a while. I know one thing, NO FISH, this town reeks of it.

Regardless, my next step is to continue to investigate the history of this town and that most unusual cult. I'm going to try to get as much outside information regarding it as possible before I try to enter their headquarters.

July 24, 2-

Never have I run across such close mouthed people! Most folks are willing to talk about their town, their families, reminiscing about events great and small. NONE of these people talk in more than a monosyllable. I've been over to the town hall to ask to research various town events and they've turned me down from looking at anything. This is supposed to be a public office and I've been told several times that various offices are closed. It's the middle of the week, how could they be closed?

I've tried to interview what few residents I can find. I've looked throughout the ruins for SOME clue as to the cause of the deterioration in this town and the degeneration of the residents. NOTHING.

Generally, I try to get as much data together before I attempt to interview the people who are the main focus of my investigation, but in this case, I may have to enter the Esoteric Order of Dagon without the ammunition of background info. Don't like it. Don't particularly like this town. Unnerving, to say the least. Quietest place I've ever been. Haven't seen a dog, cat, squirrel, bird, nothing. Nobody even walks the streets. Place resembles a western ghost town more than a New England fishing village.

And If I never see or smell a fish again it will be too soon.

July 25, 2-

There's something seriously wrong in Innsmouth. I'm afraid I may have gotten myself in a situation. Been in them before, but not usually when I'm cut off from anything approaching civilization. Came back to the hotel today after exploring the various churches in town. Usually, you can get records and histories there. Turns out EVERY church in the town is abandoned. And has been for years, probably close to a century. Even when I went into the boarded up buildings, there was nothing left to examine. Just blank rooms. Even the Catholic church had been abandoned, and they never give up on a parish. After a long, fruitless day of visiting the abandoned churches looking for records, went back to the hotel and was told that my room had been changed. There was a problem.

What kind of problem could there be? There's no electricity and the water in located in the communal bathroom down the hall. Still, they moved me down the hall to another room. When I saw the room, I was definitely uneasy. There was no lock on my side of the door, but a lock on the OUTSIDE. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have gone downstairs to demand another room.

What's going on here?

July 26, 2-

Put off my call to Howard today. Too tired. Spent the entire day searching graveyards, there are three in this town. Found something unnerving. No one in this town has died in over 80 years. At least, no one is buried here with a date later than 1925. In fact, you can see starting around 1840, fewer and fewer burials are recorded until finally, everything peters out by the 20s. I know the population of the village began to drop around the mid 1800s, but statistically, there seems to be lack of dead people given the population of the time. Yet, the census for each period suggest that there are more people than evident graves. Even the last census suggested that there are somewhere between 100 and 200 residents. Yet no one has died in decades. Therefore, there must be a considerable population here. But there's no one on the streets.

Even more disturbing. If no one has died in decades, there should be a considerable number of older folks. But there's no community center, no general store where the old timers hang out. Nothing.

Not that I've seen a lot of people around, but those that I have seen seem relatively young. No elderly folk.

Where IS everyone?

July 27, 2- (Morning)

Tired. Did not sleep well. Heard things. Strange footsteps, almost a flapping sound going up and down the corridor. Thought once or twice someone stopped outside my door. Pretty sure someone bolted the door. Smell of fish was almost overpowering.

Town must be upsetting me more than I thought. Can't tell whether this was real or dream. It will be worth it if I can get SOME information out of these people.

Tried everything I can think of to prepare for the Esoteric Order of Dagon. Hate going to interview my main subject without preparation, but no choice now. None of these damn people are cooperating.

God, I'm tired.

July 27, 2- (Afternoon)

Scared. In over my head. Tried to talk to the order members. Bizarre. Almost all of the members wore strange cloaks with hoods covering their heads. Walked funny, lurching, off balance. When I entered the building (old Masonic temple, I recognized the structure), there was no one there. Entered the main room, looked like an undersea temple. Remarkable coloring and atmosphere maintained. Actually, the artist who did this deserves considerable credit for creating a seascape of constantly shifting waves and undersea scenery. Extended to both the ceiling and floor as well. Most cults do not put that much attention into detail.

Makes sense, consistent with the concept of a water god, everything from the room color to the décor suggested the deep. Focus on knives and blades consistent with devil worship. Back wall was covered in sharp implements. Reminiscent of Inca and Aztec sacrifices. Not precisely, though. As if they were attempting to mimic the ancient cultures.

On the alter I saw the most hideous statue conceivable. Cross between a man and a squid, although that doesn't do it justice. Small, only about a foot high. Despite its repulsiveness, an excellent piece of ancient South Sea sculpture. At least that's what it resembles. Seems like all of the images in this room are derivative of older cultures.

Perhaps, these older cultures are derivative of this one? Something to consider.

Wanted to take a picture of that hideous idol for reference, think I've seen it somewhere before, but room too dark, even for my flash. Odd though, longer I looked at it, more I almost thought I heard voices. Lack of sleep I suppose.

Heard some of that strange flapping sound from my dreams, turned and saw three hooded cult members. One had a tremendous golden tiara over his hood. Curved cone shape, gold mixed with some silver metal I couldn't identify. Shape was odd, reminiscent of some of the Polynesian cults I investigated a couple of years ago. My first real clue regarding the origin of this order. Seem to be related to South Sea demon worship. Consistent with the stone idol and the deep sea motif.

Tried to talk to them, did not get much response. Asked me to leave. Voices were guttural, croaking, almost frog-like. Like everyone else in this town, monosyllabic. Tried to tell them I was researching ancient religions, but the leader, as I supposed he was, just pointed to the door and told me to leave.

Made my way back to the Gilman house. Going up to my room, saw that my things had been searched. Tried to call the state police, didn't trust the town constable. When I realized it wasn't in my pocket, I figured that I was so tired that I must have left it in the room. Searched the room thoroughly, no phone.

Wasn't going to wait any longer, went downstairs past the desk clerk and outside. If I had to skip out on my bill, I'll mail them a check. Went around to the back of the hotel where I parked my car. It was gone as well. Went back around to the front of the hotel to consider my situation. Only remember one road out of town and I wasn't sure my car would make it into town the first time. I'm not good with directions and my GPS disappeared with the car.

No getting around it, I'm trapped in this town. Can't even go to the desk clerk and ask him to call the police or a taxi. He's probably in on it. Whole town seems to be part of this cult.

Getting late, too late to try to walk out of town. Nearest town is several miles away and I'm not in the best shape. Should have listened to my doctor couple of years ago after that minor heart attack and started walking. Figured that there would be time and that my work would get me plenty of exercise. In hindsight, not one of my better decisions. Can't walk that far before dark and given the poor condition of the road (and the menace of the townfolk) don't want to be exposed in the night to whatever. Better wait until morning.

Meanwhile, I've attempted to barricade myself in my room by moving the bureau in front of the door just in case.

Never felt so alone in my life. Will never eat fish again.

July 29 (?), 2-

Finally got my journal back. Last two days have been a nightmare. I'm guessing two days as I've completely lost track of time. No light, no idea of what happened or how long. Don't know why I'm still writing this down, probably never be read. Calms me. Swear, if I get out of this one, will take up stamp collecting like Howard. He's been wanting someone to talk about it for years.

Even my writing is babbling. Where to begin?

Rereading. Left off at barricading myself in my room. So much has happened, don't know if I even remember it all. Wasn't able to sleep, at least thought I wasn't. Seemed to drift off during the night. Heard more flapping and movement in the hall while I dozed.

Sometime in the dark, people broke into my room. Couldn't see them, no lights. That strange flapping sound against the floor was everywhere. No idea how many of them there were. Fish smell EVERYWHERE. Surrounded my bed. I had not undressed in case I needed to make a quick getaway. Seems my exhaustion took care of that.

Someone put a hand in front of my mouth, cold, clammy, scaly. My skin crawled at its touch. Felt like some frog had been placed in my mouth. Thought I would throw up. Don't remember anything after that, although back of my head is sore. Think I was hit from behind and knocked out.

Woke up in this room. Think I'm back in the headquarters of the Esoteric Order of Dagon. Room's décor is just like that. All blue and green and waves. Nauseous for a while. Hope I don't have a concussion. There's a bed in the corner, a table and an old fashioned chamber pot. Disgusting.

Went and tried the door, locked. Afraid at that point, I lost my head, started pounding on the door shouting to be let out. After a few moments, I got dizzy and had to sit down. God, hope I don't have a concussion, could be brain damage or coma if I sleep much more. Could also simply be because of shock and exhaustion.

Hours later, I assume, heard the flapping at the door and the door was unbolted. Just occurred to me, strange but nowhere in town are actual locks, only bolts. Anyway, three hooded figures entered, all seem to be members of the Order. Brought food (no fish, thank God, just some packaged stuff from the grocery store). Didn't speak to me at all. Tried to ask them what they wanted, why am I here. No response.

Ate and went back to sleep. When I woke up again, the door was being unbolted again. This time, five order members, including the leader in the tiara came in the door. No one said anything, but they had my clothes, my books and my notes. Tried to question them, no answers. NEVER ANY ANSWERS FROM THESE PEOPLE!

Got to stay calm, rational. Know I'm a prisoner for the moment. Hope there's nothing more, sinister, since they brought me my things.

What do they want with me?

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Before anyone asks where are the titans, sorry, but these next several chapters are important to the story. Mr. Lovecraft had a method for moving his story along (and giving important information) through the use of journals and letters. Consequently, the next few chapters will focus on revealing a bit more of the town of Innsmouth (I said the titans were finished with Innsmouth, I didn't say we were.)

Hopefully, you won't be too disappointed, or bored. Believe me, our friends will reappear when the time comes.

Meanwhile, I've seen a nice increase in the number of hits, up to 1600+ for my full story (yes, Force, I know you get that for one chapter, but I'm not as good as you are). My deepest thanks to those who read, continue to read and reread this lengthening tale. I know this is a short chapter, but it ends in a convenient place, so you'll have to be patient.

On to the reviews,

ForceIsStrongWithThisOne – Actually, according the strict letter of the law, they caught someone breaking and entering and in the act of burglary (BB had the journal under his arm). This after they were told to vacate. Even so, perhaps the Order went a little too far. By the way, I had the topless hug planned out in the prior chapter. I wonder if anyone remembered that BB had taken off his shirt. Thought it would be 'funny' given the narrow escape he had.

Kenzie-Cat – BB's ok (for now), hope these next chapters meet up to your expectations.

Soulseekerthe13th – You know, I DIDN'T know that RC was Lovecraft's alter ego. It makes sense. He's the only recurring character in all of his work (that I can remember). Hope you're enjoying this retrospective on Lovecraft's style. Thanks for writing.

Novus Ordo Seclorum – As you may be able to tell from this chapter, it is the lingering effects of the Necronomicon, compounded with that abominable statue of Cthulhu, that has triggered this relapse. As for piecing together the story from Carter's journal, we've only just scratched the surface. The journal's revelations are far more…enlightening, in our next chapter.

Until next time my friends, sleep well.