“He locked away the Necronomicon with a shudder of disgust, but the room still reeked with an unholy and unidentifiable stench. ‘As a foulness shall ye know them,’ he quoted. Yes - the odour was the same as that which had sickened him at the Whateley farmhouse less than three years before”

First off imagine be sprayed with yellow mustard from giant bottle, being treeted like giant cosmic weiner, then to be called ‘ugly’ or ‘hideous’ by wrinkly old humans I not even know personally, waving their arms about at self all threatening like, screaming at Dunwich Horror when Dunwich Horror not doing anything bad - just happily crusching trees all like “Crunch! Crunch!” minding own business… maybe eat a few humans but it’s okay really.

Then imagine be dissolved from world by meddlesome old people what won’t lend ancient books out and then think you are stinky, and what think brother are stinky which is LIE!

Well, It took long time be conjured back here just to defend myself from terrible old wrinkly man’s malicous comments at Dunwich Horror smell.

I wants to start with saying “Untrue!” at hideous wrinkly human thing what LIE about Dunwich Horror and Dunwich Horror family, want to ruin good name of Dunwich Horror!

Me could explain things about destruction of Earth and sucking it into nother dimension, but not worth dignifying that right now because of more important thing, like, say old man LIE!

Note:

1) Odour was at Whately farm house at SAME TIME Old Man was, then again in library at same time OLD MAN was in library. It does not take a brain genius to figure out this not happenstance or coindicince that SMELL WAS WHERE OLD MAN WAS, both times!

Old man wants to be seen as hero, but in reality, old man make hideous smell - not Dunwich Horror - then wrinkly old man blames hideous smell on Dunwich Horror, and then finds only spell to make Dunwich Horror leave before Dunich Horror tell about him lie to others.

Old Man not hero. Not hero at all! Not banish Dunwich Horror anymore!

Banish Old Man! Banish Old Stinky Man!

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(1921) H. P. Lovecraft

I have examined maps of the city with the greatest care, yet have never again found the Rue d’Auseil. These maps have not been modern maps alone, for I know that names change. I have, on the contrary, delved deeply into all the antiquities of the place, and have personally explored every region, of whatever name, which could possibly answer to the street I knew as the Rue d’Auseil. But despite all I have done, it remains an humiliating fact that I cannot find the house, the street, or even the locality, where, during the last months of my impoverished life as a student of metaphysics at the university, I heard the music of Erich Zann.

That my memory is broken, I do not wonder; for my health, physical and mental, was gravely disturbed throughout the period of my residence in the Rue d’Auseil, and I recall that I took none of my few acquaintances there. But that I cannot find the place again is both singular and perplexing; for it was within a half-hour’s walk of the university and was distinguished by peculiarities which could hardly be forgotten by any one who had been there. I have never met a person who has seen the Rue d’Auseil.

The Rue d’Auseil lay across a dark river bordered by precipitous brick blear-windowed warehouses and spanned by a ponderous bridge of dark stone. It was always shadowy along that river, as if the smoke of neighboring factories shut out the sun perpetually. The river was also odorous with evil stenches which I have never smelled elsewhere, and which may some day help me to find it, since I should recognize them at once. Beyond the bridge were narrow cobbled streets with rails; and then came the ascent, at first gradual, but incredibly steep as the Rue d’Auseil was reached. (more…)

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