This is my confession. I, Dexter Sullivan M.D., killed Dr. Edward Gordon, on the twentieth of August, 1890. Tonight. I truly regret that I was forced to do this to such a dear friend, which is why I shall explain, in detail, the events leading up to his unfortunate fate. And why there was no other option.

It was on a warm Boston morning that I first met him. I was attending a lecture of his, the topic of which was the possibility of worlds that are not our own, existing in spaces past the corners of our own small reality. His profound words opened my eyes to wondrous ideas of fantastic dimensions vastly different from ours. I yearned to know more about this theory, so after his speech, I went up to him and told him that I enjoyed the lecture. I spoke with him about the ideas he had, and we made plans to continue the discussion over dinner. I gave him my home address as well so that we could begin a correspondence over post.

We met for dinner a few days later, going to a nice restaurant where we ate fish and drank wine. We engaged in normal conversation for a while, discussing the weather and our families, but further into the meal, we delved into the depths of his theories. He told me that he had plans for a machine that would grant him insight into these different worlds he spoke to me about.

“I would greatly appreciate it,”he had said, “if you could aid me in the creation of this device. It is too complex for me alone to construct.” I agreed to help him, and we made plans once again, this time for me to visit his laboratory so that he could show me his blueprints. We finished our meal, and he paid. We shook hands, then returned to our homes, but on the walk back, I was struck by a queer occurrence.

A headache seared beneath my skull, so painful that I was brought to my knees, moaning in agony. When I blinked, my eyes opened to complete and utter darkness. All was empty, except for a telephone sitting before me, ringing. I crawled towards it, still stricken by that tormenting headache, and I picked up. I was met with whispers in a language utterly alien to me, making the headache even worse. A sharp pain emerged in my chest as well, feeling as if my heart was being burned with acid. Above me, a red light flickered, then glowed consistently. I felt like I was being watched. Then, it was over. Reality slowly crawled back into my vision, and the unbearable pain was reduced to a mere annoyance. I did not know the source of this attack, but I did know the reason it had occurred. Someone, or something, did not want me and my new friend to keep looking further into the secrets of our reality. And I knew, somehow, that this was not a simple hallucination, although it was not exactly real either.

I slowly walked the rest of the way home and arrived at my little house. I went in and lay in bed, falling asleep not long after my head collided with the pillow. In my dreams, I was met with a terrible sight. Before me was a floating almost-human head – the proportions were off – with wings on each side of it, and a terrible odor emanated from it. Its eyes were pure white, and its hair a straight red line in the middle of its head.

“Be not afraid,” it said, “I have come to warn thee of thy approaching doom.” My jaw fell down, and, similarly, I fell to my knees.

“Are you a demon, or… or an angel?” I asked the being.

“Neither, my name is Hermurkzaquar the messenger. I communicate the will of the gods to mortals, and, occasionally, I warn away those who draw close to attaining dangerous knowledge. Dr. Gordon and thee inch towards a horrendous discovery. I could not penetrate the mind of Dr. Gordon, but I could thine. So thou must dissuade him from completing his machine. For both of your sakes.” Then it disappeared.

I was left in pure darkness for the rest of the night. Once I awoke, I could only vaguely remember the warning that I had received – although I have been able to recall it in more recent days – and was left only feeling dread.

***

When I arrived at the laboratory of Dr. Gordon I knocked on the door to no avail. I turned the doorknob, and to my surprise, it was unlocked. I walked through and hung up my coat, then approached a desk with his blueprints. I examined the papers, barely comprehending the science behind them, when I heard footsteps ascending the stairs to the basement.

“Ah, I see you have let yourself in,” Gordon said, “What do you think of the plans, my friend?”

“I apologize, the door was unlocked. To be quite frank,” I hesitated, “I do not entirely comprehend them, the physics are beyond my education, and it seems as if there is some writing in a different language. Is that correct?”

“That is true, I have borrowed the knowledge of ancient thinkers and mystics, combining them with engineering to pierce through the holes of our existence.”

“Mystics? Why, I thought you were a man of science, not of magic?”

“Oh my friend, you are so closed-minded,” he laughed. “No matter, I shall fix that.” He walked over to the table and placed his hands upon it, looking closely at the blueprints. “Come down to the basement with me.”

We walked down the steps into the cold, dark basement, lit by only a dim lightbulb and a lantern. On another table rested his device, almost completed, and looking the same as in his plans. There was a lens similar to that of a telescope, and a hole to peer into it through, but attached to it was an empty canister which had several electrical wires attached to it. Some of those wires led to a box, inside of it was a light purple crystal. Above it were two sockets, designed to hold a small spherical object. I examined the device in wonder.

“What exactly is it that you need my assistance with?”

“I can take care of the rest of the engineering,” Gordon said, “but I require the help of a medical doctor. I have not been able to procure some of the most important parts. This may seem unethical to you, but I need,” he faltered, “I need a human heart. And a pair of eyes.”

I stared at him in awe. I thought he must be mad to request such gruesome components from me, not knowing that the madness would come later.

“Are you insane? I should report you for even asking such a thing.”

“I am aware of the possible consequences and immorality of this. But,” his eyes were alight as he spoke, “just imagine how this small act could completely change our understanding of the nature of reality as a whole.” I thought about this for a moment, taking a seat and a deep breath.

If he was wrong, I would have committed a dastardly crime, but if he was right, well, who would even stop to think about how I procured the items? Reluctantly, I agreed.

***

I went to the morgue at night, when there were few people around to catch me in my horrible act. I found a corpse that had not been dead long, and removed the eyes with a spoon, then placed them into a bucket of ice. Then for the more difficult part. I sliced open the poor dead man’s chest, and smashed a couple of ribs with a hammer – I had no time to be gentle- to get to the heart. I gagged from the smell, cut it out and placed it into the bucket along with the eyes.

I made my way under the veil of night back to the laboratory. Frantically, I knocked on the door, and as soon as it cracked open, I slipped inside. We rushed down to the basement, and I carefully removed the eyes from the bucket and then placed them in the metal sockets. Dr Gordon procured a green liquid from a cooler and poured it into the canister on his device. He then took the heart from the bucket and carefully placed it into the liquid. The heart began to beat miraculously.

“My god,” I exclaimed, “that can’t be!” But Gordon assured me that it was part of the plan.

He then went to the center of the room, and pulled away a rug, revealing a complex circle with Hebrew and Akkadian writing as well as astrological symbols within it. “Surely this is not scientific,” I stated. Edward requested that I remain quiet. With my help, he moved the device to the middle of the circle and produced a compass which he turned to face west. He went to a cabinet and retrieved candles with symbols carved into them, placed them around the circle and lit them. He turned off the lightbulb and lantern. The room was even darker and the candles cast an ominous glow upon our faces.

Dr. Gordon knelt down and flicked a switch below the canister, and the heart began to beat even faster; the eyes moved around rapidly as if in the depths of a dream. He put his eye up to the lens, and a faint rumbling could be heard and felt, as well as a small breeze, despite us being in a basement. His leg twitched.

“What is that?” his mouth was hanging open, a string of drool spilling out, and I was left completely speechless. I heard the whispers, fainter to me than to him, but audible nonetheless. Then he screamed. I snapped into action, trying to pull Edward away from the machine, but he punched me in the stomach and went back to looking. I kicked over a candle in hopes of stopping his mad ritual, but all it did was cause the rug to burst into flames. Edward did not notice, he remained transfixed to the damned machine.

Fortunately, the ice from the bucket had melted, I quickly grabbed it and doused the flames. I put my hands on my knees and took a deep breath. Dr. Gordon had not moved from his spot. He was still gazing into abysses full of unknowable entities. I pulled him away, dodging his punches as I then kicked the machine over, cracking the glass and spilling the liquid holding the heart. The wires attached to the crystal fell off, and it rolled out of its box.

“No! What have you done?!” he roared, and crawled over to his machine which had become a mere pile of junk. He tried to piece it back together in vain.

“I saved you.”

***

We were so wrong. There are vast expanses of the cosmos beyond our little corner of the known universe. But wonderful and fantastic they are not. We did not exactly manage to find different universes or dimensions. Rather, we discovered things outside of our universe, things I have taken to calling ‘The Outsiders’, whose location is beyond the bounds of reality. Fortunately, neither myself nor Dr. Gordon saw these beings directly. I heeded the warning of my dream and did not look, while Gordon only glimpsed into their world, only heard whispers of them. I do not know what exactly caused his madness, but I do know that it was something about the Outsiders, something which he got closer to knowing than I.

It was this knowledge that destroyed Edward Gordon. He became obsessed with rebuilding the machine and finally seeing the Outsiders in their entirety. I did not see him for weeks, and spent many sleepless nights worrying about whether or not he would continue his research. One night, the month before I murdered him, I was engulfed in restless dreams of terror, and I awoke in fright. Worry had finally overcome me, and I walked out in the warm night to check on him. I arrived at his home to find his door wide open. I entered and found scribbling all over the walls in various ancient languages, a few of them unrecognisable. On the table were the blueprints for his dastardly machine. My heart sank, and I rushed out of the house.

I traveled to the police station to inform them of what was going on, not, of course, telling them of my earlier involvement, only of Gordon’s plans. They sent officers to the hospital to make sure no organs were stolen from the morgue, but I knew that he would not be at the morgue. After what he had seen, he would throw all caution to the wind; in order to see better, he would seek fresh body parts.

I went straight to his laboratory and found that the windows, although covered, were illuminated. I banged loudly on the front door, knowing that if he was already in the process he would not hear, let alone care. I waited for a moment, and the door opened a crack.

“Go away,” he hissed, then shut the door and I heard his footsteps stomp down the basement stairs.

I grabbed a rock nearby and launched it through the window, as it was my only option for entering. I knocked away the remaining glass and climbed in, slicing my hands in my haste. As blood dripped from my wound, I slowed down and descended the stairs as silently as I could.

I heard those terrible whispers once again and felt the tremors. My blood went cold, and every instinct in my body screamed at me to turn back, but I went on. My head pounded in pain, and I gained back a vague memory of my dream from before, but I went on. I finally peeked around the corner and saw Dr. Gordon peering once more into a nightmare. I shambled over to him, trying and failing to pull him away. I aimed a kick at his device, trying to knock it over, but he had bolted it to the floor. I spied a loose pipe and pulled it off to smash the machine, but when I turned around, he was right there, staring at and beyond me with vacant eyes. His hand shot up to my neck and grasped tight.

I struggled with my free left hand, trying to pry him away, but he had unnatural strength. The world began to go dark, and I dropped the pipe. With weak arms, I reached out for it, but I only brushed it with my fingers. I stretched my arm out as far as I could, and got a slight grasp, but that was enough, and I grasped it tight. I bashed it into Gordon’s head. He fell, and I was free.

Above, the police followed my trail of blood to the basement and discovered the horrible scene below. I was on the ground taking deep raspy breaths, and in front of me was the unconscious Dr. Edward Gordon. The police informed me that they found a mutilated corpse, not in the morgue, but in the house next door. He had murdered an innocent man and was sent away to an asylum.

***

On the morning of August 20th, he escaped. I do not yet know how, as of course, he can no longer tell me, and by the time the police arrive to talk to me, I will no longer be here. It is my assumption that he got out, then hid until it was dark enough to come to my home undetected. I awoke to the sound of a window smashing, and I immediately grabbed the revolver, hidden near my bed, assuming it to be some normal intruder. I went up to the door and stood with my back to the wall, waiting for a moment, before I cracked open the door, peeking out to see where the intruder was. He was in the kitchen with his back to me. I opened the door as slowly and quietly as I could, then went out and aimed my gun at him.

“Who are you and what are you doing in my house?” He turned, a crazed look in his eyes.

Enough blood stained his shirt that I feared that he had killed someone in his escape. I barely recognized my former friend at first glance, but soon came to realize his identity. “What have you done?” I asked. He answered by holding up a knife he had taken from my kitchen.

“Put down the knife,” I said, fearing for my life. “I do not want to shoot you Edward,” I pulled back the hammer on my revolver, “but I will if I must.”

He ducked, surprising me, and I fired at the empty air. He came up and stabbed me in the leg, and due to the terrible pain, I dropped the gun. Snatching it, Gordon bolted into my bedroom, and as he slammed the door I could hear him faintly giggle.

A bullet blasted through the wall, nearly hitting my arm. I let out a yelp as a second grazed my leg, a third missed my head and a fourth passed my shoulder. Then, one more hit my back, not hitting any vital organs – or else I would not be writing this. I heard a couple of clicks then his cry of frustration. I took the opportunity to safely get into the room, and I burst through the door, then punched Edward all my strength. He dropped the gun, I took it from the ground, drove it into the side of his head. He was knocked unconscious, like before, but this time, I would not let him be taken away. I grabbed his knife which he had used to stab me in the leg, and, with all the strength I could muster, pierced it through his chest. Blood spewed forth from the wounds, pooling on the floorboards. I sat for a while, I don’t know how long, trying to comprehend these events. And then, eventually, I began writing this account.

What truly ignites fear in my heart, is that perhaps Gordon, my friend, was not insane. Rather, as I have come to worry, he may have been more sane than any of us. He saw the truth of the universe: he saw reality for what it really is, and he had acted on that truth. I have felt the call of this knowledge ever since I took his life. It beckons me. That is why I must take his eyes and heart, and venture to his laboratory where the device remains intact. I will do whatever it takes to know that which must not be known. I will finish what Dr. Edward Gordon started. I will witness the wretched creatures that pushed him to this fate. And I will join him in the comfort and peace of what men might deem ‘insanity’.

Featured Image Credit: Dreams of Darkness