"Rumbleeeeeee!!!"
Amid the low roar of thunder, torrential rain poured down, shrouding all of Innsmouth in a curtain of storm.
Within the downpour, several figures wrapped in tattered raincoats and cloaks moved slowly through the streets of Innsmouth, holding flashlights, long forks, and fishing nets.
In the brief flashes of lightning and the dim glow of their flashlights, one could see that the skin beneath their cloaks appeared slick and damp. Their necks were swollen and bulging, and organs resembling fish gills expanded and contracted there.
These were Innsmouth's cultists.
Tonight, they wandered the streets for one purpose—
Hunting.
To capture foolish outsiders wandering alone at night and offer them as sacrifices to Dagon.
Unfortunately, it seemed unlikely they would gain anything tonight.
The cultist at the front sighed. On a night like this, no idiot would come out looking to die. In fact, he was starting to feel tired himself.
With that thought, he turned to ask those behind him whether they should call it a night.
However…
Where were they?
The street behind him was empty.
He distinctly remembered the others walking right behind him. How had they vanished in the blink of an eye?
Had they all grown tired and slipped away early without even telling him?
"——————!!!"
Just as the cultist stood there in confusion, a shadow like a venomous snake shot out from a nearby alley behind him, wrapping around his neck.
Before he could react, he was yanked violently into the alley.
And there was no more movement.
The storm continued unabated.
Innsmouth remained as quiet as ever.
Until sunrise.
"What did you say?"
Seated behind his desk, a well-dressed middle-aged man frowned and glared at the subordinate trembling before him.
As the patriarch of the Flink family, he had hoped to begin his day in good spirits. That hope lasted only minutes before the bad news ruined everything.
According to his subordinate, several bodies had been found on Innsmouth's streets that morning.
They were members of the Flink family's slave-catching squad.
"Dead? All dead? Are you certain?"
"Y-Yes. Their bodies were found on the street this morning…"
"Damn it! What happened?! Seal off the news immediately! I'll go there myself—damn it, where are the bodies?"
"They've… already been sent to the police station…"
Before his subordinate could finish, the Flink patriarch stood up furiously and strode out of his study, ordering a car to take him to the station at once.
On the way, his expression was grave.
He couldn't understand who would dare do such a thing.
His first suspicion was one of the other three families sabotaging his offerings to Dagon.
But that didn't make sense.
There was no major ritual scheduled recently.
If not them, then who?
The question remained unanswered even when he arrived at the police station.
The police chief naturally recognized him. In fact, everyone in the station was their man. That was why every disappearance of outsiders ended in nothing.
The chief led him to the morgue and lifted the sheet covering the corpse.
"This was discovered this morning. Old Pete found them—you know he always goes out early to fish. He opened his door and saw these bodies sprawled across the street in front of his house. Never heard the old bastard scream louder—even louder than a woman. Nearly woke the entire neighborhood."
The sheet came off.
Even the Flink patriarch shuddered.
The corpse belonged to one of the slave-catching squad members. His eyes were wide open, mouth agape, expression twisted in terror—just like the sacrificial victims during rituals.
A long gash split his neck.
The patriarch frowned and looked to the police chief.
"That's the fatal wound," the chief replied.
Technically, smoking wasn't allowed in the morgue, but the chief didn't care. He lit a cigarette and pointed at the corpse's neck.
"Looks like something pierced his throat—like a hook. Then dragged him off like a pig carcass hung for slaughter. He died just like that. Poor bastard. No idea what he saw before he died, but I'd wager it was something beyond their imagination."
"…."
The Flink patriarch said nothing, listening in silence before raising an eyebrow.
"Who knows about this?"
"Mostly locals. The tourists are too busy with beaches and booze. But I suggest keeping an eye on those so-called backpackers. This place is wide open—they could be hiding somewhere like rats."
"I understand. Thank you."
Innsmouth had once been a thriving shipbuilding town. Now it was more like a village. Most residents lived in the eastern district. The rest of the town consisted of abandoned ruins and boarded-up houses.
Outsiders believed those buildings were empty.
They were wrong.
Innsmouth residents carried Deep One blood. As they aged, they became less human in appearance. Naturally, they couldn't let outsiders see that.
So once their transformation reached a certain stage, they would hide in those boarded-up houses until fully transformed—then return to the sea.
But when the four families began searching, they made a horrifying discovery.
All those awaiting transformation—
Were dead.
All of them.
Worse—
They couldn't even determine when they had been killed.
What was happening?
Who did this?!
At this point, the four families were truly panicking.
At first, they suspected each other. Internal rivalry was normal—even among cultists.
The Flink and Fulson families even argued over doctrine.
The Flinks claimed Innsmouth's bloodline began when a "holy maiden" of their family lay with a Great Being from the deep and conceived its child.
The Fulsons insisted that was blasphemy. According to them, the maiden had received the Great Being's blessing in a dream and bore the Deep One's offspring as a virgin.
They could argue endlessly over whether she had sex or not.
One side accused the other of distorting history.
The other accused the first of desecrating the divine and glorifying themselves.
Undermining each other was routine.
But once they discovered the half-transformed Deep Ones had been slaughtered—
They realized something was terribly wrong.
Those Deep Ones were meant to return to the sea and embrace the Great Being!
Sabotage was one thing.
This—
This was blasphemy.
Who did this?!
For the first time, the rulers of the four families felt a chill in their hearts.
They had always believed Innsmouth held no secrets from them. Generations had lived here. Everything was under their control. No outsider could arrive unnoticed.
And yet—
Someone had been killing right under their noses.
And they knew nothing.
"We must sit down and discuss this seriously."
At last, the Flink patriarch made his decision.
(End of Chapter)