Lovecraftian Horror

     Walking down the dank gambreled streets of antediluvian Boston, I, Ichabod Samuels, an antiquarian, delighted in the macabre decay surrounding me. Noisome stenches emanated from alleys and debauched, batrachian visages leered as passersby turned to watch me as I strolled down / the lane. Dry leaves crackled beneath my bare toes as i loped along, keeping to shadows. I wiped a trail of viscous mucus away from my face and flakes of squamous / forehead tissue that had fallen off my rapidly disintegrating forehead. The vicious explosion of the horn from that selfsame anatomical location was interesting, yet horrid. There was nothing I could really do about it. So I continued on. My rapidly stiffening joints began to move of their own will, first / left, then right, then left. Where was I being taken? I decided to let my limbs do the walking, as it were, and enjoy the ride. For some reason, the sky started to turn pitch black--"Odd," I thought, "it's noon." Oh well, must be an eclipse...
     All of a sudden, the sound came like a thunderclap--a scream, a howl--was it my own soul crying in anguish? No ... it was the guy in front of me, crying his last as he died, his insides *outside* of him. /
     Ick, thought I. How sick. Is this *my fate*? Torn asunder by my own hands?
     Again in the blackness I could smell the blood as it oozed out of the body and pooled at my feet. My body seemed to relish this and kneeled down to / lap up the quickly congealing liquid at my feet ...
     I stood, still unsated. "I have no friends ..." I mused aloud. How could I?
     With the Stygian depths of eternity staring in my noisome soul (my life seemed filled with noisome things, beavers with cats' tails, people screaming and dying. / The ghastly transformation that I could feel boiling up in my own putrescent flesh filled me with an overwhelming revulsion, and yet a revulsion filled with the ineffable joy of learning and enlightenment.
     For as my very corpse melted away, my brain was fired to hotter and faster calculations. I knew the things that gibbered on the far side of the moon. I know the secret name of Khai of ancient Khem. The stars were coming right again! / I even knew how to transcend death in that last moment. I catapulted my soul into the body of a horrified passerby.
     My reactions could have been more perfect, but in time I will convince them of my sanity and I will be released from this gambrel roofed antediluvian foetid shambling wreck of a state hospital for the insane.