In The Eyes Of A Skull
Written by Nickolaus A. Pacione
Word Count: (4,148 Words)

Late-September, early October 1870 –– the telling of a harrowing discovery can be said but what they say of what they found was something too terrifying for words. The skeleton of a being that was not of this region though it was skeletal remains. The words itself cannot even relate to what they saw or related but the nightmares of what lives within a child’s tormented mind were in the sense true when they looked at them. The teeth were not of a human – almost animal like, its thirst was that of living blood.
One cannot begin to relate exactly the origin of this being but one can agree on this much – within Glen Ellyn, Illinois, no one had ever seen anything of this nature. Though the town is 20 years old at this time, Illinois was just allowed in the union and it was toward the end of the Civil War. The person who carried the skull to the region was an outsider from Texas, and kept the knife that killed the vampire with him. Though they all know him by name, they just don’t want to say it because the darkness it brings. The sightings of the skull were that of something which is left in an unwritten history that happened within the place.
Though a lady named Trisha Williams saw this skull when it was first brought to town –– she didn’t believe in the supernatural until she had the nightmares of a vampire being decapitated. The details of the vampire being dragged out to the sunlight and beheaded were the thing that brought her memory to the horror that was seen in her dreams, and seen from the skull standing before her in the room. She knew that was in the store was something she could not understand until she saw the skull for herself. When she saw the skull she kept having the dreams about the Nosferatu, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Horror in the mind when she looks at the skull, kept thinking –– the skull, that being was in my dreams before it was brought here. It was from the night she saw that skull she kept seeing the horror play out in her mind -– of how many that the vampire killed. The person who brought the skull to Illinois was a friend of Abram Van Helsing. After the vampire was killed in Europe he was carrying the skull around like it was some morbid trophy.
“Is there something I can help you with ‘mam?” Asked the shopkeeper, “I take it you just saw the head of a slain Nosferatu; it was the same vampire that Jon Harker killed with the Bowie Knife he brought with him to Castle Dracula.”
She said nothing, blinked twice in absolute horror. She knew nothing about who Jon Harker was but knew one thing – this was the skull of a vampire. She thought and asked, “Why did they bring the skull of a vampire to Illinois, and what does it have to be doing here shown as a macabre display?” Her look in the face was that of someone horrified– something with a monstrously; that it would be in that be the words telling of the horror that was from the castle in Europe with the parchment enclosed written by Dracula himself.
“You see, there is something about Glen Ellyn though and history of the supernatural –– this is just part of its history,” the shopkeeper responded, “the skull of a vampire even when dead still has power over people. The person who brought the skull in was a student of Abram Van Helsing. People have gone mad looking at the skull of the Nosferatu.”
Trisha had an uneasy look on her face when he was relating the background of the skull, it was almost like she wishing or praying to God that she never asked him about it. She was looking at him like he wasn’t right in the head though that was just him –– that he was half-joking in the manner he was relating the story and offered her a drink of whiskey. She accepted the drink because she needed something to help her sleep after he related the rest of the details of the story, the horrors that were there within her mind were something she couldn’t quite relate otherwise they would lock her up in the same place they placed Mary Todd Lincoln. She willfully took the drink and asked if she could borrow one of the rooms that he had to rent. He agreed to the offer of the loan because there was no way she was able to sleep in her own house that night after hearing that story he spoke of. It was mid afternoon when she went up to the room, he gave her the only room in the place with a bed big enough for two people. Usually when a married couple will come to town.
“You get this one all to yourself. Hope you are able to get some sleep.” He responded.
“I will, thank you for loaning this bed to me for the night – I wasn’t feeling well all week,” she responded as she got under the covers. Didn’t even disrobe just went into bed with what she had on during the day – slept in her corset. She laid there for a good two hours before falling asleep, the skull was the thing that was on her mind. On her back she drifted to sleep but had an uneasy feeling in her mind of what was going on around her. It was a matter of an hour before the whiskey played its role in helping her fall asleep. Though as she drifted to sleep – her mind was still uneasy about the Nosferatu skull that she seen. The dreams she had before the display of the skull were that of a nature –– horror that cannot be explained in words as she saw the thing scratch gaping wounds into someone and drank their blood. That was the thing that kept her awake at night even though the vampire was long dead – beheaded skull brought in as a morbid display so journalists can photograph the man who killed the vampire with the Bowie knife, and beheaded it with another. It was that which lived within her the past few hours, as she laid on the bed overlooking the rest of the trading post above the shop.
“Kind man, a little morbid, but kind,” she said to herself as she slowly drifted to sleep. The skull was dwelling in her mind as a waking nightmare, as she pulled the blankets up to her neck and tried to close her eyes. When she did close her eyes she was able to feel the breathing of something cold on her but nothing was in the room. She woke for only a second but went back to sleep – it was still in the mid afternoon when she went to sleep. Earlier that day she was suffering from a bad cold so that was why she was offered the drink. Alcohol worked as a natural cough suppressant; but the side effect made her want to sleep –– though she could not blame the effects of the alcohol on her dreaming or what she was dreaming. Silence was something that was quite strong in the room as Trisha looked outside the window, from her bed she could hear the trains howling as a wolf to the moon.
Better try and get some sleep, she thought to herself. This cold had been killing my senses. I cannot stop coughing and thinking it could be a plague that is going around. Though these dreams might be something to do with the sickness within me these days – that I haven’t slept for days because of them. Though the man who runs the shop was kind enough to loan me this room, I was too weak to head back to my home on the other side of the county. She began to cough violently not knowing what was going on around her but she closed eyes once again after the spell of coughing was done, then began to realize she was breaking a fever but couldn’t tell the signs of what was going on around her. The strange notion was there that her illness revolved around the skull that was in the room below. She let loose a scream in pain because her body was cramping as she went to open a window then a thud because she hit the floor.
The keeper ran up the stairs. Had a frantic look to his face – he was quite young and running the shop to help support a young wife and son. 27 years old but young enough to see when something was wrong – he did go to medical school but couldn’t afford to keep everything going. He moved to Glen Ellyn because things got too costly in New England. He sometimes rented out rooms above the shop to get some extra money. His interest in vampires came when he was in correspondence with Jonathan Harker while he corresponded with Harker, at the same time he corresponded with Abram Van Helsing. That was how he got a hold of the Bowie Knife that killed Dracula, but the skull below was that of another vampire –- it was killed in Illinois within the winter of 1868.
They sent the skull to the college he was at and they boiled the flesh off the bones, then used a method of wax to reserve the skull of the beheaded vampire. His studies of the supernatural came from the Van Helsing correspondence. That his research of the Nosferatu came from the letters written by both Harker and Van Helsing. He thought about those letters as he went up the stairs to help Ms. Williams back into bed; kept a wash basin near by filled with warm water. Went home to his wife for a moment to bring her over to help Ms. Williams out since she was a certified nurse.
“Take easy ‘mam, let’s get you back into bed here -– you don’t look so good,” he said while picking her up, “If you need to stay here a few days you got the bed to recover in. My wife will be on her way to check you over, and my older brother is a doctor. I will send him a telegram, he is all the way in Milwaukee. Keep the window open for ventilation, and will try to keep you as comfortable as possible. Lay down and I will tuck you in – we will take good care of you. My brother went to Miskatonic University and worked out of Arkham Hospital there. He did not study Alchemy though but saw practices of Alchemy take place within the walls of the hospital.”
He gently lowered her to the bed and put the covers around her, tucking part of the blanket under her feet and made a hood around her head, then took a damp cloth with some cold water and rested it on her forehead, “you must rest. I know you are uneasy about staying in a place with a vampire’s skull but you must rest. You are in no condition to be up and about. Sorry if I had to put you into a cocoon but that was something I learned when I was watching my wife and brother work with patients who had hypothermia. Here is something that might help get your strength back. You sleep – I am going to sent a telegram to my brother in Wisconsin.” He had a cloth soaked with water, squeezed some of the water over her lips to keep hydrated –– her body was weak, almost if a vampire drained her blood but no bite marks to show of entry. She was sweating bullets as they had no tomorrow, enough sweat to fill a drinking glass. She was descending into stages of sleep where she was dreaming, but in the dreams she was having a nightmare that she was not able to wake from –– not at that time.
“I was wondering if it was that skull of a slain Nosferatu that invoked her to become this ill,” the shopkeeper thought himself. The Morse coder was at the desk next to the bed, he used it when he had other sick people pass through town.
“Got a hold of my brother – he will be in town within the day to help you. My wife is on her way over to help me while he is making his trip down to Glen Ellyn. You will be in good hands,” the shopkeeper responded, “I am going back down to check on that skull. I will leave you to rest.” He had a calm sound to his voice –– she was going deeper into her sleep. This was when the dream became even more haunting because she felt the cold upon her face of the being that the skull belonged to. She appeared as Cleopatra as she was laying in the bed –– as Cleopatra was being prepared for a burial is how Trisha slept. The way the quit was wrapped around her and her feet elevated –– they might of asked if she was really suffering from the flu but shot and lost a great deal of blood or bit by a timberline rattler. The way she responded with her breathing it was as something was sitting upon her. Though her fever is getting higher as her sleep goes further into the dream. Her eyes were going faster beneath her eyelids as she drifted in and out of her dreaming sleep.
“Ophillia, what do you make of her illness –– you worked in and out of hospitals, I never saw someone this sick. I was wondering if you seen anything like this at Miskatonic when you did your residence,” he responded with a nervous look.
“Once – when a person read the manuscripts about the Black Pharaoh. I could not fully describe how sick they became but they had to leave him in the bed chamber for a few years. His mind never recovered from the illness though,” Ophillia answered back with a calm. She knew that she needed the medicines to help this woman –– there were some plants outside of Glen Ellyn near an old trail. She knew where to find the plants, and while she knew where they were –– she felt the violent coughing that Trisha was giving off in her sound sleep. Between her coughing she descends further into the dream.
“All we can do is pray. She will live, but this is a stage of her illness that takes her further into a nightmare she would not wake from because of how sick she is. Others had not lived through this stage of the dream,” Ophillia continued, “her fever is high but not fatal. We just have to keep her wrapped up and comfortable.”
Trisha felt herself walk out of her body, this must feel like when one is either dreaming or a ghost, she thought. She saw herself laying in the bed with the blankets forming a cocoon around her five foot frame. “I look like the Egyptian dead,” she quipped to herself, “I know I am not dead –– though the skull is still downstairs. I guess I could wander around as I am still asleep.” She was frightened about what happened to her but in her horror, there had been some curiosity toward her dreams -– that she watched her mummified body, asleep. She walked down the stairs to the skull of the Nosferatu –– with a bit of worry to her eyes, because she was not able to tell why it had lead her into a torment of sickness as the dream begins to play itself into detail. The skull was still lifeless but looked at her if it was still alive with power as it was still alive. Though it would remain as the eyes of the Black Pharaoh, with everything within the mind of hers as she sleeps –– her body; numb to the touch as she could feel the wet cloth trying to lower her fever.
Her body was shaking from the chills she was feeling on her physical body as she heard the shop keeper and his wife work with her as she slept. All while she looked at the skull she felt everyone around the outside looking up at the window where the skull was. That when she was asleep she saw the perspective – in the eyes of a skull looking outside toward the rest of a really young Glen Ellyn, Illinois. From them they see a dream as it plays out in the perspective – from them in the eyes of a skull. That in the window; she heard some chanting for the Prince of Darkness to awaken once again. But even in her dreaming state she could hear them over her sleeping body taking about notes that were written about the Black Pharaoh that were found at Miskatonic University. That being the place the doctor studied medicine.
The dream carried on for another three hours as her fever was getting even more intense. She could feel the heat from her head burning as she stood before the Black Pharaoh as he held the skull of the beheaded Nosferatu. As she looked back at him with the skull in hand, she knew that something was the reason why she was violently sick. Even in her dreaming state she felt quite faint and dizzy because of the fever that she was suffering from. Not even her boyfriend was familiar with how sick she was but knew that she was going to be staying at the shopkeeper’s spare bedroom for a little more than a week because a message sent in Morse Code. Though around her in the dream was silence, the outside as her body slept was the sound of communication between the shopkeeper and his brother. As she was staring down the eyes of the skull, she felt physical body coughing violently as her fever rose above 106 degrees. What is going on, why is my fever going above the fatality point? I am still breathing but not responsive – couldn’t cry for help if I wanted to. I am getting even more ill because of the eyes of the skull – it was seeing that blasted skull with the fangs. Bleached and preserved with wax, and this being staring back at me that I cannot describe. I know I am in good hands because the nurse and the shopkeeper are looking over my body as I lay sleeping. Why is it that I am able to see this being holding the skull of the beheaded vampire, am I going mad because of my fever or can’t I awaken from this nightmare. She was shammering in horror; she didn’t know exactly what was going on with her body as she watched the Black Pharaoh –– Nyarlathotep, holding the skull of the Nosferatu. He did not say a word to her but did nothing but look at her. She could not tell of the reasons why she was able to see him, the Black Pharaoh himself. While her dream play its stages, the shopkeeper got a Morse code message from his brother in Wisconsin. She could hear the waking world around her but she was not able to respond.
“Do you hear the tapping? It is the message from my brother I was waiting for,” the shopkeeper said with great excitement. His wife, Ophillia, looked on as everything is getting better though the worst of the illness had still been playing out on Trisha. In Trisha’s mind, Trisha was praying for death to come upon her because the high fevor was the torment she never asked or prayed for.
“It’s my brother, Stephen, according to the message he is starting to make his way down but the trip is going to take some time because he has to take the train down. He’s got the medicine to help our guest,” the shopkeeper responded hugging his wife, “he saw this happen to one of the doctors when they were studying for their degree, one of them became violently sick after handling the skull of the Nosferatu. He responded as the vampire bit him but wasn’t bit. He will be bringing some Menthol with him, said boiling Menthol leaves would help her recover. Who ever saw the horrors within the eyes of the skull shall become violently sick and pray for death but live –– though in their sickness it would be unbearable.”
While they were receiving the messages, the dream played on while Trisha slept – she was in a tormented slumber induced by her fever. Someone help me, she thought to herself – her eyes were and not able to open because she didn’t have the strength to open them. My body is a coffin but I know I’m alive but it feels like I am dying. My health depends on a Miskatonic graduate –– God, please let him get here in time. I hear someone reading a Bible to me but I cannot respond. All because I had to see the skull of the beheaded vampire I am sick as this; damn my curiosity – damn it to hell. I just pray to God that the doctor gets here in time because I am not able to wake up –– too weak to open my eyes. I don’t know how long I have been asleep or how long I have been sick for. All I can say is that God – don’t let me die. I am still looking into the eyes of the Black Pharaoh –– it seems so frightening as he points his finger toward my sleeping body. Still holding the skull in hand. The skull – fangs dangling as they were still alive, and as the skull had no eyes in it, appeared to stare at me if they were still alive..
It was getting into the second day, the doctor arrived – Dr. Robert Franklin. It was close to the midnight hour when he arrived to the shop, “Jesse where is the woman? I am here with the medicine, hope this gets to her in time.”
“She’s upstairs – resting but really sick. We’ve been keeping her hydrated and comfortable until you arrived. She got violently sick after seeing the skull of the Nosferatu,” he explained with some relief, “What do you want me to do with the Menthol leaves?”
“Find some hot water or boil some hot water on the stove. Then soak these leaves in with the water; she will recover slowly in a few days. I have seen this happen before but it was a lot worst with the doctors at Miskatonic; they died from this but apparently with Ms. Williams –– wasn’t looking at the skull that long. Ophillia was watching over her pretty good then,” the doctor responded, “Jonathan Harker omitted the details of what happens to a Nosferatu having power even after death. I studied along side with Van Helsing, because he knew how to reverse the effects of a vampire bite.”
“She is upstairs – Ophillia was reading scripture to her so she would respond in some way or form. Her fever was getting pretty bad. Thankfully to God –– she was not dying though, responsive enough where she was moving her head when she slept. We had her wrapped up in bedding though because she was badly chilled to the touch. She tried to open a window but collapsed after walking away from the window,” the shopkeeper responded.
While the brothers spoke downstairs; Ophilla was dampening the lips of Trisha with the cloth soaked with water. “Hang in there, the doctor is down stairs.” Trisha responded slightly with a small moan, took the water as it was damped with a cloth to her lips. The doctor came up the stairs with the cooled water with the menthol leaves boiled into it, slowly he walked up without waking her. “Sis, give this to her. Soak it on a cloth and rest it upon her head – Ms. Williams will slowly recover it should clear up her passages. Her fever will break in a matter of hours. Something I learned in the university, during my days as a resident.”
It was eight hours later, Trisha began to awaken –– the scent in the room smelled somewhat like Menthol. She did not sit up but she knew that someone was watching over her, everyone around her were sound asleep. The days of vigil were paying a toll. She just stayed in bed – though still sick, but the details of her dream were still clear. The trigger was the skull –– that skull belonging to the slain Nosferatu.