Necronomicon: Book of Dead Page #2

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Get out!

Be gone!

Leave!

God save your soul!

Who are you? What do you want?

I don't wanna see anyone. Go away!

In this time of need...

you are...

not alone.

Wait...

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Wait!

"Towards the Remedy of Untimely Loss"

That is not dead

which can eternal lie.

And with strange aeons

even death may die.

In his lair Cthulhu waits dreaming.

That which is not dead

can eternal lie.

And with strange aeons

even death may die.

In his lair Cthulhu waits dreaming.

That is not dead

which can eternal lie.

And with strange aeons...

even death may die.

In his lair Cthulhu waits dreaming.

Daddy...

Yon!

My son.

Jethro?

Emma!

You've come back!

How you could leave us down there?

Jethro?

Please help, mommy.

My son!

- I'm cold.

- Come here, my son.

Help me, papa.

I don't know who will

read these words.

You should only know that there

is no magic cure for guilt.

Except forgiveness.

At last I can rest peacefully...

knowing that my beloved...

guards the book.

Oh! Damnit!

Damn!

My...

beloved...

guards...

the book.

My beloved...

cursed the book.

That is not dead

which can eternal lie.

And with strange aeons

even death may die.

In his lair Cthulhu...

waits...

dreaming.

Who's there?

Eddie...

May I come in,

Eddie?

- It's not possible.

- Please.

Say I can come in.

Come in, Clara.

I have so many things to tell you.

The accident...

It was all my fault...

My fault.

I should have been looking

where I was driving.

I'm so sorry, Clara.

Please forgive me.

I'm so sorry, Clara.

Clara, listen to me.

Clara.

I'm tired of blowing bubbles, Eddie.

Don't push me away!

Come back to us, Eddie!

Will he truly be brainless

enough to try?

Of course, he's human.

In the midst of this

cruel heat wave...

the inhabitants of Boston

curse their unbearable lot...

while one man alone remains cool.

Cool but imprisoned by his own...

desperate devices.

Amy Osterman, right?

May I help you?

Sure you can help me. But I think

this more about helping yourself.

I don't understand.

Yeah, well, I didn't understand

either how 11 bodies...

could turn up over the last 40

years in this neighborhood...

all with the same M.O.

and go on unsolved.

- Are you a police man?

- Sh*t...

Do I look like a cop?

Porkel. Dale Porkel. I'm a reporter

for the Boston Journal.

Mother, we have a guest for tea.

What are you storing in here, meat?

I have a rare disease, Mr. Porkel.

I'm acutely sensitive to

heat and sunlight.

Great. I hope it's not contagious.

Hardly.

So listen, Miss Osterman,

I did some digging, and...

the deed on this place is executed

under Dr. Richard Madden's name.

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