Arkham

The government, alarmed at such signs of wholesale regional decadence, sent several officers and medical experts to investigate, conducting a survey which New England newspaper readers may still recall.

It was the publicity attending this investigation which set reporters on the track of the Waitleys, and caused the Boston Globe and Arkham Advertiser to print flamboyant Sunday stories of young Wilbur's precociousness, old Waitley's black magic, the shelves of strange books, the sealed second story of the ancient farmhouse, and the weirdness of the whole region and its hill noises.

Wilbur was four and a half then, and looked like a lad of fifteen.

His lip and cheek were fuzzy with a coarse dark down, and his voice had begun to break.

End of Part 1 V.

THE DUNWICH HORROR The following winter brought an event no less strange than Wilbur's first trip outside the Dunwich region.

Correspondence with the Widener Library at Harvard, the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, the British Museum, the University of Buenos Aires, and the Library of Miskatonic University at Arkham, had failed to get him the loan of a book he desperately wanted.

So at length he set out in person, shabby, dirty, bearded, and uncouth of dialect, to consult the copy at Miskatonic, which was the nearest to him geographically.

If my life is of any value to you, please look into this matter for me.

I am in desperate need of an artifact which I believe may be found in a museum at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts.

The object is a small grayish-green stone shaped like a five-pointed star.

I had hoped to find one at the dig, but I fear the work there is not going fast enough, and that they will get their supernatural aid before I find the star stone.

Amazing.

We then arrive at the Miskatonic Medical School in Arkham, Massachusetts.

So Miskatonic University and Arkham are both H.G. Lovecraft.

So Arkham is like a H.G. Lovecraft location where he like references and sets things.

And then Miskatonic University is like, if you ever need an expert who has like a copy of

the

...

but yeah, yeah, what you're thinking of in terms of a, a place is, uh, Arkham is the, the where, where all the usual-

Yes, of course

...

Cthulhu stuff-

'Cause of Arkham Horror

... exactly.

Yes, of course.

It is true that I have sent six bullets through the head of my best friend, and yet I hope to show by this statement that I am not his murderer.

At first I shall be called a madman, madder than the man I shot in his cell at the Arkham Sanitarium.

Later some of my readers will weigh each statement, correlated with the known facts, and ask themselves how I could have believed otherwise than as I did after facing the evidence of that horror.

That thing on the doorstep.

At any rate, his juvenile learning was prodigious and bizarre, and his facile writings, such as to captivate me despite my greater age.

About that time I had learnings toward art of a somewhat grotesque cast, and I found in this younger child a rare kindred spirit.

What lay behind our joint love of shadows and marvels was no doubt the ancient, moldering, and subtly fearsome town in which we lived, which cursed, legend-haunted Arkham, whose huddled, sagging gambrel roofs and crumbling Georgian balustrades brewed out the centuries beside the darkly muttering Miskatonic.

As time went by, I turned to architecture and gave up my design of illustrating a book of Edward's demoniac poems, yet our comradeship suffered no lessening.

The government, alarmed at such signs of wholesale regional decadence, sent several officers and medical experts to investigate, conducting a survey which New England newspaper readers may still recall.

It was the publicity attending this investigation which set reporters on the track of the Waitleys, and caused the Boston Globe and Arkham Advertiser to print flamboyant Sunday stories of young Wilbur's precociousness, old Waitley's black magic, the shelves of strange books, the sealed second story of the ancient farmhouse, and the weirdness of the whole region and its hill noises.

Wilbur was four and a half then, and looked like a lad of fifteen.

His lip and cheek were fuzzy with a coarse dark down, and his voice had begun to break.

End of Part 1 V.

The following winter brought an event no less strange than Wilbur's first trip outside the Dunwich region.

correspondence with the Widener Library at Harvard, the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris, the British Museum, the University of Buenos Aires, and the Library of Miskatonic University at Arkham, had failed to get him the loan of a book he desperately wanted.

So at length he set out in person, shabby, dirty, bearded, and uncouth of dialect, to consult the copy at Miskatonic, which was the nearest to him geographically.