"Brian Lumley - Titus Crow 1 - The Burrowers Beneath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lumley Brian)

Wald-Schrecken. And there are lesser, absolutely genuine forms, too, plenty of
them, come down the ages unaltered by evolution to the present day.
'Now, such as these, real and unreal, are what you might call "survivals", de
Marigny, and yet Coelacanthus, "Nessie", and all the others are geologic
infants in comparison with the things I envisage!'
Here Crow made a pause, getting up to wearily cross the book- and
paper-littered floor to pour me another drink, before returning to his desk
and continuing his narrative:
'I became aware of these survivals, initially at least, through the medium of
dreams; and now I consider that those dreams of mine have been given
substance. I've known for a good many years that I'm a highly psychic man; you
are of course aware of this as you yourself have similar, though lesser,
powers.' (This, from Titus Crow, a statement of high praise!) 'It's only
recently, however, that I've come to recognize the fact that these walking
"senses" of mine are still at work - more efficiently, in fact - when I'm
asleep. Now, de Marigny, unlike that long-vanished friend of your late
father's, Randolph Carter, I have never been a great dreamer; and usually
my dreams, irregular as they are, are very vague, fragmentary, and the result
of late meals and even later hours. Some, though, have been . . . different!
'Well, although this recognition of the extension of my psychic powers even
into dreams has come late, I do have a good memory, and fortunately - or
perhaps unfortunately, depending how it works out - my memory is supplemented
by the fact that as long as I can remember I have faithfully recorded all the
dreams I've known of any unusual or vivid content; don't ask me why! Recording
things is a trait of occultists, I'm told. But whatever the reason I seem to
have written down almost everything of any importance that ever happened to
me. And dreams have always fascinated me.' He waved his hand, indicating the
clutter on the floor.
'Beneath some of those maps there, you'll find books by Freud, Schrach, Jung,
and half a dozen others. Now, the thing that has lately impressed me is this:
that all my more outre dreams, over a period of some thirty years or more,
have occurred simultaneous in time with more serious and far-reaching
happenings in the waking world!
'Let me give you some examples.' He sorted out an old, slim diary from a dozen
or so at one end of his desktop, opening it to a well-turned page.
'In November and December, 1935, I had a recurrent nightmare centring about
any number of hideous things. There were winged, faceless bat-things that
carried me nightly over fantastic needle-tipped peaks on unending trips
towards some strange dimension which I never quite reached. There were weird,
ethereal chantings which I've since recognized in the Cthaat Aquadingen and
which I believe to be part of the Necronomicon; terribly deadly stuff, de
Marigny! There was a hellish place beyond an alien jungle, a great scabrous
circle of rotting earth, in the centre of which a ... a Thing turned endlessly
in a bilious
green cloak, a cloak alive with a monstrous life all its own. There was
madness, utter insanity in the very air! I still haven't deciphered many of
the coded sections in the Cthaat Aquadingen - and by God I don't intend to! -
but those chants I heard in my dreams are delineated there, and heaven knows
what they might have been designed to call up!'
'And in the waking world?' I felt bound to ask it, even remembering that I was