Old Whateley

Hope couldn't sleep. Night Hawk had gathered around the the Whateley family's house, covering the trees, with a few scattered on the ground, and even landing on the roof of Hope's room.

They seem to want to chirp all night long; their sounds are noisy and unpleasant, yet they also possess a certain indescribable rhythm, like some kind of countdown.

This left Hope's thoughts sluggish and prevented him from calming down.

He heard the sound of hooves approaching from afar. Besides Wilbur, there was another person. Their horses neighed uneasily, with a mixture of fear and awe, just like Jenny that night.

Once the horses calmed down, the engine roared across the land again, a tremendous sound accompanied by the cry of the Night Hawk.

Hope had heard the sound of Elizabeth's car before, and felt like a baby in its presence.

He couldn't resist pulling back the curtains to look outside, and a van with huge tires drove right past his window.

There were two people sitting inside; the person in the driver's seat was rather short, while the other person seemed excessively tall.

They were all wearing black robes, the style of which seemed somewhat familiar to Hope, and the face of the dead Robert flashed through his mind.

The sound of horses' hooves rang out again; this time, they were leaving.

But the man on horseback seemed to notice Hope lying by the bed. He dismounted and led the horse toward Hope's room.

He went to check Hope's door, which was locked, so he went to Hope's bedside.

"Is it Hope?" he asked.

The wind is picking up.

The sound of the wind and the Night Hawk' cries mingled together, and with the glass windows blocking the view, the man's voice reached Hope's ears very faintly.

The Night Hawk's call slowed Hope's thoughts, and after a few seconds, Hope nodded.

"I am Horton," the man said.

"He's a doctor. You used to know me, but not anymore. I've heard about your amnesia and have always wanted to talk to you, but I've never had the chance."

"So, Dr. Horton, what would you like to talk about?" Hope asked.

Dr. Horton shook his head:

"Let's have another chance later. Forget about it today; you have other things to do. I don't know why they locked you up here, but Wilbur will come to get you in a bit."

Dr. Horton said nothing more, and Hope's mind wasn't sharp enough for him to say anything either.

The sound of horses' hooves faded into the distance, and a few minutes later the noise of an engine rose again, only to fade away as well.

These rare guests of the Whateley House arrived in haste and left just as quickly.

Dr. Horton was right; Hope heard Wilbur unlock his door.

The Goat Head walked up to Hope:

"You're still awake? That's wonderful. Let's go, see Grandfather one last time."

Hope first met his "grandfather" on the day of his death, and he felt that his "grandfather" was like a skeleton.

"You've come, Hope..." Grandfather said weakly, "Come closer, come to me, and you, Wilbur, you come too, all of you come to me."

Hope didn't react in time; Wilbur pulled him over, and the two stood together in front of Old Whateley's bed, looking at the old man.

Agility: 0.85, Constitution: 1.21, Vision: 0.74, Mana: 4.42

Is it already on its deathbed...? Hope wondered.

Old Whateley looked at them too, his cloudy eyes glancing at Hope and then at Wilbur, and said:

"You two... you must get along well... you're brothers..."

Hope remained stuck in a mental block, while Wilbur nodded.

"And your mother, you must treat her well..." Old Whateley continued.

Wilbur nodded again, and this time Hope finally realized what he meant and nodded along with him.

Old Whateley laughed, his grin raspy and high-pitched, sounding somewhat like Night Hawk outside the window.

"And I," he said.

"And I, will leave this place with my deceased brother... He was a genius... He died for the great cause of the the Whateley family..."

Looking at Old Whateley, Hope suddenly realized that he might have gone mad, or like those other elderly people on their deathbeds, now uttering nothing but delirium.

"My brother only left me a Steel Pen..." Old Whateley continued.

"In the end, that blond Robert took it, and Robert was killed by that thing. The Steel Pen is gone too..."

Old Whateley stared at Hope when he said this, and then remained silent for a long time afterward.

Steel Pen...

That silver Steel Pen with gold patterns... Robert said it was a gift from Old Whateley...

Hope looked into Old Whateley's eyes and gleaned something from those cloudy eyes.

Old Whateley knew the Steel Pen was with him... and might even know exactly what happened that day... but he told Wilbur nothing...

"Wilbur, go open the window," Old Whateley said.

The wind blew into the room, making the Night Hawk's short cry even louder.

Because of these cries, Hope frowned slightly. In the corner of Hope's line of sight, the dark figure stood quietly.

"What do you see, Wilbur?" Old Whateley asked.

"A flock of Night Hawk," Wilbur replied.

"And... is there one... that's particularly big...?"

Hope's heart skipped a beat.

A particularly large... Night Hawk.

Wilbur shook his head. "They're all just normal Night Hawk."

Old Whateley visibly breathed a sigh of relief; Hope could hear him exhale.

"Close the window," he said.

Old Whateley stopped looking at them and stared at the ceiling:

"When my brother died, his soul was carried away by a Night Hawk. That day, I had a premonition that the Night Hawk would return... I even sensed it just now... Thank goodness I was wrong... Thank goodness I was wrong..."

Old Whateley's younger brother, Wilbur and Number One Hope's great-uncle...

His soul was snatched away by a Night Hawk...

A giant Night Hawk...

Hope looked at the dark figure in the corner of his vision. There was no Steel Pen there, and the figure did not move at all, as still as a silhouette.

The Steel Pen was an heirloom from that great-uncle...

Is that really how it is...?

The Great Night Hawk grew to such a massive size after devouring Old Whateley's brother.

That dark figure... is the soul of Old Whateley's brother.

Old Whateley probably knew the Steel Pen was with Hope, but he didn't seem to know that the Great Night Hawk had been killed by Hope.

Old Whateley closed his eyes again.

His heavy breathing eased somewhat, and he choked out a few more words:

"Grow bigger, Wilbur, until that thing grows even bigger. When it does, remember to open the gates for the King of Kings with that long hymn. You can find it on page 751 of the complete Necronomicon."

The Necronomicon...

Hope remembered the huge book with the leather cover in Wilbur's hands that night the campfire was lit.

Old Whateley paused for a moment, and the large flock of Night Hawk outside changed the rhythm of their calls, while at the same time, strange sounds emanating from the mountains could be faintly heard in the distance.

Then, Old Whateley said a few more words:

"Don't let it grow too fast. Before you have the ability to summon the King of Kings, don't let it escape your control... The Great Old Ones await your return..."

He couldn't finish speaking; his heavy breathing interrupted him.