Narragansett Bay

I can’t take it anymore, I really can’t. The voices, the creeping stench, the nightmares, the darkness; everything is taking a huge toll on my sanity and me. That’s all right; I think I have figured it out. In an obscure, almost cryptic sentence in my father’s journal, he talks about the Forgotten Lighthouse Keeper. From further research, that was an old story from Narragansett Bay. My hunch from earlier was right. Narragansett Bay, that has to be where the stone lies.

So, it looks like I am heading for New England. Maybe I should leave a message. No wait, no time for that. I’ll send a video when I am On My Way. Yes, that is what I have to do; I know that my evil little stone is in the Narragansett Bay just a stone’s throw from Providence.

This makes total sense to me now, it is all so clear, the Church of Starry Wisdom, the Shining Trapezohedron, the murders are all coming together. Yes, I know what you all are thinking: I should not go alone, but I have to. Only I can end this nightmare once and for all. I have to stop this, break this curse, the power of this stone and the effect it has on everything I touch.

I have to go, I have to finish what my uncle started, I just hope it's not too late, I can only hope that the haunter is not already there, waiting for his cult to sacrifice me to the Great Old Ones.

Insanity Grows

Milton Johnson, maybe he was the first, maybe I need to somehow shift the curse back to his family... And the note in his final drawings, almost match the words of my mother.

(This artwork depicts the vicious Cycle of Three. I don’t have much time left, for I fear it or they are near. I dare not draw the Haunter, because I cannot imagine the horror. To my loving wife and daughter I leave this gift. I have burned the portion that featured the last in the cycle. I did this to spare you the terror of the three lobed burning eye, Goodbye.)

Could it be? Could this be the break I have been searching for?  Wait!No! Agh! Agh!

It’s coming! It’s coming!

They won’t stop! They’ve been at it for so long that I’m not even sure they know how to stop. What?! What?! What is coming?! Yog-Sothoth, where are you? Forget “Who are you?” and “What are you?” Now I need “Where are you?” I need you. I need you here. I need your help.

Agh! Agh! 

My head is going to explode.

It’s coming! It’s coming!

What’s coming?!

I can feel my body losing itself. My hands are shaking, my knees are wobbling, and I can hardly speak except to scream occasionally. I can’t walk straight. I stumble and trip with every step. The best option for me right now is to crawl.

It’s coming! It’s coming!

Yog-Sothoth, help me! Please!

It’s coming! It’s coming!

That’s it! That’s really, really it! I’m done! I’m out!

Where should I go... Maybe Narragansett Bay? 

Cycle of Three

This is so strange, the ending of these journals are so vague. They keep referencing some entity, the three-lobed burning eye, and cycle of three, what does it all mean? I must be close to something, the voices are growing louder, and they won’t let up. Uncle, What the hell is it?

In uncle Robert’s last entry he states, “I see it coming here hell-wind, titan blur, black wings, Yog-Sothoth save me, the three-lobed burning eye.”

This was followed by Stefan-Kingston’s final entry, which reads, “It is horrifying. I can barely write this. I don’t know if it is staring at me from below the surface of the water, or if it is reflected in the water from behind me. I dare not turn to see…the three lobed burning eye.”

This all hit home with my father’s last journal entry, which reads, “My daughter will not see it, I will see it soon enough, but I will burn the evil to the ground before my daughter sees the three lobed burning eye.” Yog-Sothoth or Azathoth, who are you and why is my uncle praying to you? This is insanity; no creature has three-lobed burning eyes.

Stop! Please stop, these voices, they grow louder, It’s coming, It’s coming over and over. I swear it’s almost like they are chanting. What, no way, can’t be. Guess what? My lights are flickering and yes, the odor is worse than ever. I don’t know who or what you are Yog-Sothoth, but please, help me! I can’t take it anymore. Stop! Help me, I won’t look, I won’t see it!

I have to find the stone and I have to destroy it! Sanctified land, holy ground, yes, that has to work against this pure evil. Help me please help me!

My God, Their Faces!

Damn lights, they continue to flicker. I hate it! I hate this house, I hate these journals, hate this curse. What am I going to do? These visions, these smells, these nightmares that plague me; what are these wicked creatures? Where did they come from? Their skin, their faces, their burning eyes… My god, their faces! Give me strength lord to escape. 

Uncle, what have you brought down upon our family? Why did you free this curse? I can’t take it anymore; some type of demonic hoard is overtaking my life. I must escape this nightmare, but how? I know, I have to find the stone, where is that damn stone?

The city, it has to be in Providence, trapped by the rotting stench of decay. Hmmm, I don’t know, where in Providence? The water, yes the water, Narragansett Bay? That does sit by the city, but I just don’t know. Father, uncle, mother…give me a sign!

If I lose power, I am done

I am sorry that I have been a touch incoherent lately. It is obvious, that something is not right with me, and I am turning into my mother. I am petrified of the dark; I am petrified of the voices, the visions. From the journals, if this Haunter cannot exist in the light, then it would need darkness; I mean that’s why it’s called the Haunter of the Dark, right? Its strange, the more my fear of the dark grows, the more that my lights keep flickering around sunset. If I lose power, I am done.

I have to hurry with this post; I have to get the last bit of information down before I lose my power. I have discovered that on the night uncle Robert died, not only was there the odor, but there was also a strange power outage throughout town. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it? Yet, I can see now that this thing, this demon from the depths, one of the Great Old Ones needs the darkness to rise and spread his wrath upon the Earth.

Incredibly, it seems that all of my relatives have been summoned to their demise in the dark. Uncle Stefan-Kingston died the night before his body was found, my mother died at night, and even my father died at night. Am I set to die at night? Is the haunter coming for me? Please, no, I refuse to go out that way. I will survive and avenge my family’s deaths.

I am torn though on what to believe, this is so crazy. The further I dig into my father’s journal, the more I don’t understand. All I know is that he loved me. He loved me so much it killed him.

According to his journal, he experienced everything that I am now and started to search for the stone, but never found it. He chronicled hearing voices and waking up in strange places. Although he heard the stories, read the journals, and knew what was coming; he pushed on. That is why he sent his pregnant wife out of town and continued with his plan to burn down the church before reuniting with his family later.

Unfortunately, he never made it, as his car was found on the side of the road. The look of complete terror rested on his face and yes, his car was saturated with a foul stench. There it goes again, the lights… Dammit, where is my flashlight? Maybe I should go buy a lantern, maybe that would be easier to find.

Dante’s Journal… Coincidence?

The odor has defeated me; it is too powerful to stand. It is the stench of something that does not belong in this world. When the odor is near, the Haunter of the Dark is not far behind… Journal of Dante Blake

This is almost exactly how I feel, although I am still unsure whom or what this Haunter is. I must be going crazy. The voices, this odor, they have to be in my head, they have to be. Incredibly, I am pretty sure that this strange smell is the same one I encountered just before I found my mother’s body. Personally, I thought it was just how dead bodies smelled, but now I think it was something more insidious, something evil.

At least I didn’t summon anything when I recited that passage from the journal. Hey, wait, why do my lights keep flickering, I paid the bill last week? Figures, where is my flashlight?

This Smell, It's, It's Overwhelming

God, make that smell go away. What is it, oh, death, it has to be death. I know that uncle Robert chronicled encounters with some type of putrid, rot infested stench. Of course, he didn’t go into great detail on the scent and where it came from. Could this be it? Could this be that scent? Incredibly, uncle Robert was not the only one to mention this otherworldly aroma; both Stefan and Dante referenced some type of odor in their journals as well.

One of the interesting particulars that I discovered were the eyewitness reports of Stefan, days before his death and they all point to the fact that he was never seen without his handkerchief. I wonder, was this because of the odor? Was he being tortured by this invisible decay, and the remnants of the maggot riddled bile that has saturated the air? One could only imagine, I can. This smell is overwhelming, in many ways, worse than the voices.

Uncle, mother, father, what can I do to make this nightmare go away? I am tired of wearing this damn mask. How can I survive? There is a passage in Uncle Robert’s journal, I don’t understand it, it appears to be in Latin, or some other language, but it does sit near the section that mentions the rancid redolence. Maybe I should read it aloud, that’s what they always do in movies, isn’t it?

Vocate ad Vetus Ones

ut resurgat

Da nobis absolutio

nos tibi cthulhu

What’s that sound, wind? Where did that come from? Please, no, stop, no…