And past curfew. The streets of Innsmouth are dark, so dark that you struggle to find your way. You MUST get to the Esoteric Order of Dagon before the police come upon you out here!
This is the place. No. This WAS the place. It is now a misty, craggy dreamscape leading nowhere. With your heart in your throat, you turn, but back the way you came, a procession approaches. The men are moving in a positively simian manner, with long arms frequently touching the ground; while another figure - robed and tiaraed - seems to progress in an almost hopping fashion.
Now you understand what it was you witnessed at Devil Reef.