Read Online The Hand of the Devil by Dean Vincent Carter - Free Book Online

destructive.
    The book in my hands was an anatomical textbook called Body Ratio by the Reverend C. N. Tantica. There were countless pages from another book which must have been somewhat smaller, judging by the difference in page size, inserted at regular intervals. I opened the book to one of the marked pages and found a drawing that depicted a human liver. Checking a few of the other bookmarked pages, I found further diagrams of various organs. Mather had clearly studied the book in detail at some point, probably during his days as a medical student. It seemed to be well looked-after, being practically dust-free, unlike many of the other titles.
    Turning from the bookcase, I noticed another of Mather’s framed silhouettes hanging to the left of the window. I don’t know why I hadn’t spotted it before, because it was striking. It must have been concealed in shadow the previous night, but now, in daylight, was hard to miss. Judging by the long feeding tube that extended from its head, it was a mosquito and was about the size of a small bird. Written beneath the finely crafted image in clear, elegant handwriting were the words:
    Ganges Red
    (Actual Size)
    ‘Big, isn’t she?’ Mather said from the doorway.
    I jumped in surprise. ‘Yes, it certainly is.’ I found it hard to tear my attention away from the picture. ‘It’s not actually that big though, is it?’
    ‘Oh yes, indeed. And if you’ll follow me, I’ll prove it.’ He turned and walked off down the corridor. With some trepidation, but also a hope that I might finally get to see something of interest, I followed.
    Mather’s bedroom was larger than I had expected, with wooden panels extending from ceiling to floor, all beautifully sanded and stained. Even the floor was bare wood and coloured to match the walls. Arranged neatly around the panels were more of the delicate and elaborate insect silhouettes. There were two more mosquitoes, another butterfly, a hornet, what looked like a praying mantis and something else that I didn’t recognize. To the right of his small bed, under the room’s only window, was a handsome roll-top desk. In general, Mather’s room was tidy, almost minimalist in arrangement.
    He walked over to the right wall and took hold of a long, thin horizontal panel that split the wood in two. The whole right side of the panel slid across, revealing a large compartment behind the wall. The space was occupied by a single glass tank. The lid was metal, perhaps brass, and etched with delicate, swirling patterns, as were the strips that ran down each corner – fitted, perhaps, for extra strength. The glass panels had yellowed so I guessed the tank had been in use for some time. I realized then that up until that point I’d assumed the insect to be dead. It seemed, however, that this was not the case, and the fact that Mather kept the creature in his bedroom left me somewhat perturbed.
    ‘Fear not,’ Mather said, gently tapping the front of the glass box. ‘She sleeps during the day, so it’s sometimes necessary to give her some encouragement.’ He waited for a couple of seconds, but nothing happened.
    I studied the leaves, grass and twigs that filled almost a third of the container, hoping to spot some movement. Remaining unruffled by the no-show of his exhibit, Mather drummed his fingers lightly on the glass, then stepped back, a look of satisfaction on his face. I then heard a whining sound coming from within the glass prison. I was still prepared for disappointment. However, to my combined surprise and horror, a mosquito far bigger than it had any right to be detached itself from the underside of the lid where it had been hiding, and dropped, turning itself over in midair to hover before our faces.

IV: PRESENTATION
    A remarkable thing occurred during my introduction to the Ganges Red. I was assaulted by a brief yet piercing headache unlike any I’d experienced before. It was as though, for a moment, an inaudible scream resounded in my