I have always been a collector. As time goes on I have collected various items, my tastes becoming multifarious over the years. My infatuation at the time these events unfolded was in a series of fetishes or dolls from the Orient depicting various soldiers and the invading forces they fought against. I had found a supplier for these somewhat rare artifacts by the name of Dennis Beebe, a sort of ‘technological woodsman’ certainly best built to survive some apocalyptic world more sinister than ours. Mr. Beebe happened to be a librarian, which gave him access to research and means well beyond my own to obtaining these objects. It was a Sunday when I went to see him this particular time. As I approached his apartment, just west of Poroth Farm in New Jersey, I was filled with anticipation as he had told me over the phone that he had found an item of some importance to me.
When he answered the door we made idle talk before our transaction. I found myself incredibly distracted and hazy on entering his apartment and I was barely able to keep in mind what we were discussing. It was as if the air in that place was heavier, somehow, not outright fearful but building over time into a slow dread. My mind cleared completely, however, when Mr. Beebe showed me what he’d brought me there for.
“Mr. Beebe! How did you find this?”
He was holding a tiny doll, a replica of an ancient statue, depicting the famous Commander of the Cobra Order, sinister in his cowl with the hateful eyes of an inhuman god. It was magnificently detailed; royal blue uniform with the red emblem of the Order emblazoned on its chest. His legendary weapon of choice - The Dagger of Walter de la Poer - molded in its resin sheath. Mr. Beebe’s eyes were alight as he told me that this figure was not even the object he spoke about - this precious item was extra, to be mine for free. I felt some of that odd heaviness, the old dread, creep back in as he took me into a cluttered back room. As he moved the curtain aside, he told me that when he had found what he was about to show me, he knew that I would purchase it in an instant. After an odd moment of silence, he reached into a cupboard and removed a silk bundle, unwrapping it to reveal the mythic Dagger of de la Poer itself.
It was approximately 7 or 8 inches long, and serrated on a side with a curve at the sharp tip. It was remarkably unremarkable, fairly unadorned and appearing to possess more utility than aesthetic. As soon as he removed it from its cover I knew it to be the source of the strange uneasiness that permeated his apartment. I felt dizzy and faint as I took it in my hand and I wanted it and did not want it all at once. The moment I grasped it tightly in my fist, however, the dread faded and was replaced by a bold sort of power behind my eyes, a clarity the like I’d never known. I knew this object was genuine, and supposing that it was, the Dagger was certainly the most powerful object I’d ever held. According to the famous researcher, Dr. Bigham at Miskatonic University, this blade held power over evil and things not of this world. It completely defied observation, not in a literal sense, but the more I looked at it the less sense it seemed to make, as if some part of its construction was mathematically impossible though it seemed plain and unadorned. As I gazed in wonder, Mr. Beebe filled me in on how he’d obtained it: that a nomad by the name of Danielle Hunter had by unknown means come into possession of the dagger and, under its influence believing it to be a Masonic artifact was arrested while attempting to dispose of the item into a large body of water. Through a series of fortunate accidents, the blade made its way to Miskatonic University Library, New Jersey Branch, where Mr. Beebe worked on his research.
The blade cost me sixteen thousand dollars and a promise of a considerable favor to Mr. Beebe. Though I carried the blade with me that day, my sense of deep dread vanished the moment I left Mr. Beebe’s apartment, as though the knife had not been where it belonged, and now it was.
To be continued …
