I have once again resumed my cherished ritual of reading a tale each day during October from that master of eldritch dread, H. P. Lovecraft. Today’s tale, “From Beyond”, holds a particular resonance with me for two profound reasons. First, I regard From Beyond as Lovecraft’s initial foray into the realm of true cosmic horror—a genre of incomprehensible forces and nameless, lurking beings. Second, it stirs memories of a conversation with a dear, long-lost friend who once posed an unsettling question: “Have you ever pondered the possibility that beings exist, sharing our world, yet utterly beyond the limits of our perception?” To this, I answered in the affirmative, adding that Lovecraft had captured such a vision a century past.
Now, allow me to recount today’s tale of dread, “From Beyond.”
You see them? You see them? You see the things that float and flop about you and through you every moment of your life? You see the creatures that form what men call the pure air and the blue sky? Have I not succeeded in breaking down the barrier; have I not shewn you worlds that no other living men have seen?
In this grim narrative, our nameless narrator is drawn into a horrific experiment by the brilliant yet deranged scientist, Crawford Tillinghast. The invention of a machine that awakens the pineal gland thrusts them into a terrifying dimension, teeming with grotesque, unseen creatures. Tillinghast, in his madness, reveals the servants were slain by these beings, and that the creatures can now perceive them. In sheer panic, the narrator destroys the device, leaving Tillinghast dead from apoplexy, and the police baffled at the disappearance of the servants’ bodies.