The final diary entry of Professor Martin Peaceman - a short story

Tuesday, January 1st 1901, 12:05 am

I know now that I should never have come. I should not have accepted the invitation from my good friend Patrick Featherson to observe the strange comet from the observation tower of his brand new hotel. It was too good an opportunity to miss though and it had been years since Patrick and I had graduated from Oxford so I caught the train from London. At Bath many of the passengers  exited my carriage and for a moment I was alone. Enjoying the quiet and watching the quaint countryside flash by I was interrupted from my pleasant reverie by a balded gentleman in a three piece suit. I nodded greeting before returning to the scenery.
"Professor Peaceman..." the stranger began. It was not a greeting and in fact it shocked me that this unknown figure seemed to know whom I was. There was a certainty and an urgency both in how it was he pronounced my title and surname.
"Exit at Exeter..." he added.
I turned, chuckling at the unusual choice of phrase. My just as clever response was on the very tip of my tongue prepared for swift delivery. As I turned from the window I discovered however that the figure had already gone. The carriage was empty, it were as if the strange exchange might never have happened. Troubled, I returned to the ever changing panorama, but no longer did the English countryside bring me simple joy. My thoughts were clouded, troubled, my humors upset.

Exeter came and went. Immediately I regretted not heading the strange suggestion of the man in the suit as a family of eight crammed into my lonely space. Seemingly none knew how to respect the sanctity of silence. The travel to Bodmin Parkway was excruciating. Fifty or so questions sent my way I ignored until I could bare it no longer.
"Halley's Comet is not due to be seen with the naked eye until 1910! I doubt very much that the coming of a new year would cause such a phenomenon to change!" I announced haughtily. I did not mention the calculations I had made predicting our planet would traverse through the tail on this occasion. I thought it enough to settle the argument and bring again the carriage to peace that I could confirm the orange glow we had all been witnessing in our skies was not the famous celestial.
"Professor Peaceman..." stated a child amongst the party invading my carriage. "You missed your stop at Exeter..."
I looked hard then at the child and noted the small crescent moon tattooed under his left eye. Examining each family member in turn I saw the same mark repeated. Casting my mind back I realised that the balded man had a similar mark. My blood chilled. I excused myself and rushed from the cabin. Expecting to be followed I hurried through the train as it drew into the final station on the line. The family remained seated however, making no move to pursue me. Two others did exit onto the platform as the train slowed to a halt. I did my best to seek out a sign of the tattoo on each but saw naught to concern me. I took the rear seat of the omnibus to Tintagel and looked behind as the rocky ride began. The family remained on the platform, chatting with the man in the three piece. The boy watched me go, waving forlornly. Unsure of how to respond I gave a wave of my own.

I soon discovered that the two who had joined me on the bus were local, returning to their homes in a hurry as the vehicle finally reached its destination. I was to ask the driver for directions to my friend's hotel but it was not necessary. A hulking monstrosity sat upon the horizon, almost completed, emblazoned  in lights, a beacon summoning me forth.
"Martin! Welcome!" came a well remembered call. My friend Patrick had brought the open cab with a pair of spirited, white steeds to save me a quarter mile stroll.
We chatted like old friends who'd not had years apart and yet what we spoke of was the stuff that filled in that extended gap. I was impressed with the entrance hall of Patrick's grand establishment and the quality brandy with which we sipped as he conducted the tour.
"I've plans to name her The King Arthur's Camelot Castle Hotel... For the tourists of course..." Patrick explained, always seeking a pound. "You are my first guest, but I am expecting a dozen more later this evening..." he added, a version of an apology I suppose. In an attempt to lighten the mood my host and friend then steered us up a flight of ornate steps, a hundred at least and at the top of the flight presented his telescope.
"Please! Sit! Observe... Such a strange sight I needed you to witness it with me so I could confirm I was not dreaming..." Patrick insisted.
Without hesitation I did as was bade. I'd been watching this orb for a week now, since it had first made an appearance upon our spacescape. The smog of the city was unkind though compared with the clear and clean skies of lonely Tintagel. What I witnessed took my breath. A powerful ball of flame drawing quite close. I made a few quick calculations and whistled loudly.
"We might just meet this one head on Patrick..." I exclaimed. My previous views had suggested we were nowhere near the comet's path but the smog had made true vision difficult. Here I could be surer.
"I know..." breathed my friend in reply. "I have a room set up for you Martin, but you are also welcome to settle upon the pallet here... Keep a close eye of the skies..."

I took the pallet for my own and spent the remainder of the afternoon with one eye on the heavens. Another omnibus arrived after sunset and my friend again took the horses out to collect his new arrivals. I heard the hubbub below as the new arrivals settled. A fine meal of coc a vin was delivered by Patrick and for a few moments we chatted about my observations, the telescope clearer still in the purity of night.
"Where and when? Where and when?" Patrick asked, eagerly.
As best I could calculate I informed him it would be somewhere in the Celtic Sea within the following seventy-two hours.
As Patrick left I was unsure if I'd heard him mutter something, he seemed deflated.

The evening wore on and a Great Grandfather Clock in the entrance hall struck the witching hour as I tore my eye from the scope. My ears had caught the sound of singing. I rose, stretching my limbs as I headed down the steps to investigate. The song was in Latin, but the words I could not comprehend. The harmony grew louder as I drew closer to the entrance hall. Bursting in I discovered a dozen figures in mail all sat around a replica of Arthur's famous table. In the center of said table was my friend, dressed in a white gown, a large knife embedded in his back, crimson pooled about his prostrated form.
"Patrick!" I cried, aghast...
"Return Martin to the best seat in the house!!" Patrick called back at me with hysteric urgency. "Tonight we make history!!"
Not knowing what to do I fled as he suggested. A hunch drew my eye back to the telescope and I noted with horror that the comet's trajectory had shifted. It had increased its speed and would now land somewhat nearer, possibly upon the very hotel my friend had built. The sound below me seemed to be conjoined with the sight above. The chanting grew in volume as the flaming orb became everything the scope could view. As the glass rattled from the deep baritones I found I could see that the ball hurtling toward us was actually a creature, though nothing I'd ever witnessed on this Earth. Soon the telescope was no longer needed, the naked eye suffice to see every detail of the monster from the heavens who came to deliver our doom. My mind exploded as the beast discovered my mind and flooded it with phantasmal sights of things to come.

I pen these final words as the chanting ceases and that which I have witnessed in my mind is now coming true. I should never have come. And yet gladdened am I to have had a front row seat of not just my destruction but the true ending of us all...