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…

I’m Sorry, But These Voices…

Sorry I left so abruptly earlier, but these voices, they are driving me insane. Uncle, who, what, should I call? Azathoth, Yog-Sothoth, father, someone please help me; make these voices shut up. While I can’t understand everything they say between the screams and whispers, I can feel them pushing me to find something; destroy something. What should I do? Why is this stone so important?

Who will believe me? The cops? Yeah, that’s a funny one. Hello officer, some unseen cult is stalking me and they want to sacrifice me to their centuries old light fearing demon…I can see it now, a trip to the nut house for me.

It’s funny, uncle Robert, and the others, they all spoke of hearing voices in their journals, maybe I should embrace them instead of making them go away. They all tried to block them out and get rid of them, but maybe I should listen. I could be looking at this all wrong, maybe there is a message masked inside, could they be trying to help me?

Mom, is that you? I swear that is my mother’s voice. Focus, focus, yes, mother it is you! What, destroy what? The stone… What stone? Please help me, stop, it can’t be, mother died, she can’t be talking to me. Shut up! Let me think!

What, wait, don’t go… Where did that come from? What is that hideous smell?

Stop, Please Stop!

Everyday since I have started researching these journals (and my family’s curse), I have awoken to the visions of blood soaked streets, revolting beasts torturing me inside some type of blackened chamber illuminated by some type of ornate stone, and worst of all, scenes of my demise. I swear, this is a never-ending nightmare that I cannot forget: cannot escape. Those nightmares, and these voices that chastise my every move, are what is pushing me to complete my research. 

Now that I have had my coffee, where should I begin? Let me see, maybe here… From my research, I am not the only family member to hear these weird calls from the abyss; my uncles, my father, and likely my mother heard them as well. Where do they come from? Are they real? I hope not.

Dammit Stop! Please Stop! 

I don’t know what to do anymore. Any time I sit down, these sounds echo through my mind. Plus the more I dig into these books, the more I see these strange visions of some type of face: three eyes, three burning lobes, what the hell? My mind is weak and I cannot go on, I must stop this. I have to rest, these terrifying visions feel so real. I never want to be part of that nightmare again; I want to move on.

Nyarlathotep, Haunter, No Way…

Nyarlathotep, so the deity worshipped by the Cult of Starry Wisdom is Nyarlathotep. Of course, some of you may also know this vile demon as the Haunter of the Dark, made famous by occult historian H.P. Lovecraft in his classic tale. I know, I know, Lovecraft was a genius fiction writer. Yes, you could say that, but he was also a dedicated researcher of Sumerian lore, and much of his Cthulhu mythos has proven true. Incredible, I know, but absolutely true.

Father, I have to ask, if you knew about this powerful entity, why did you bring this upon mother? Why did you forsake her sanity? Oh well, I guess I will never know the answer to that one. All I do know is that this creature is what drove mother to her grave. According to all three journals, this entity can’t survive in the light, with even the smallest hint of light driving it back into the depths. This had to be the reason mother carried her flashlight and slept during the day. I know it sounds crazy, but it has to be true. At least, I hope that’s not the reason. No, it can’t be. Really, there is no way my mother was trying to protect me from some smart-ass otherworldly being who can’t take the slightest bit of light.

Maybe I am the one going insane. These journals must be works of fiction. Yes, that’s where mom got her money, she was an author, and this is part of an unfinished masterpiece. Has to be, I mean, how could it possibly have all knowledge, and if it did you think it would be able to figure out a way to survive in light. Plus, having all the knowledge in the universe would mean it knows the answer to the oldest question in the universe, the question that must never be answered, the question hidden in plain sight, Doctor Who?

Why am I even humoring this, there is no way something like this could exist? Could it? I am so confused right now and these journals are making me crazy. I swear, there is some type of shadow stalking me, and I can’t sleep. All I want to do is read, and find out more. Plus, that stone, why do I keep seeing that damn stone. I swear to you, if I start hearing voices, I am done. Outta here in a flash… Goodnight!

The Stones Dark Past

Uncle, what did you do? Did you accidently summon Nyarlathotep, the faithful servant of Azathoth, who rose to power during the reign of the evil pharaoh Nephren-Ka? In my research into this mysterious stone, that is the only thing that would make sense when comparing the information to your somewhat incoherent ramblings in your journals. Yes, you had to have awakened the Crawling Chaos, but how?

According to the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, The Great Old Ones brought forth the Shining Trapezohedron from the darkness of Yuggoth, where to summon the Dark God from the depths of the talisman in the hour of their great need. Did you stumble upon the Daemonum Codex Illustrationis, the stone? Was that what was in the steeple in the church? Did that cause the vile stench to overtake your reality?

From my research, that is the only thing that would make sense to me. Yet, I know, it can’t be real. No scientist has even answered my call for help. I mean, where is Yuggoth? Who is Nyarlathotep? Why is it so hard to find any information on these subjects? It is like talking about Nibiru, and the Sumerian texts that clearly point to the existence of another planetary system within our solar system.

Of course, there was that strangely cloaked figure down the street that was clearly interested in the subject when we struck up a conversation at the coffee shop. Sure, he was babbling something about the Nephilim at first, but as soon as I mentioned the Trapezohedron, he shut up. He seemed fascinated by the story, especially when I explained my relationship to you. It almost seemed as if he knew you, or at least, had heard of you. He said he was from some Brotherhood of Wisdom. Have you heard of them?

What is this Shining Trapezohedron? From what I have found, it is a crystal tool used by ancient civilizations to open the Gates of Hell, is that what you did? Did you set forth the ancient’s wrath upon the Earth? Honestly, that is the only thing that could explain the strange occurrences that are plaguing society today. What did you do, uncle, and how can I fix it? Where can I find this relic, this stone? If it has such power, it must be destroyed, it already cost our family enough. I must find it and destroy it! I must free society from the wrath that you brought forth.

Starry Wisdom, Cults, Sacrifice

Uncle, I know someone is following me; I know it. So many strange things have been happening lately, I have no idea where to begin. It started when I started to dig into the Church of Starry Wisdom and their fanatic followers, the Cult of Starry Wisdom. I know, I know, funny name: the Cult of Starry Wisdom. You know, One Direction has nothing on them (who knew, a 1920s boy band). According to the journal, they were responsible for housing the object you spoke of in your journals, uncle; they would call forth some type of ancient deity in search of his wisdom.

It is strange, but in Stefan’s journal, he alluded to this cult being responsible for the deaths of 46 young people (probably more). How is that possible, there is no record of the deaths in any newspaper or local archive? Uncle, are you sure? He went on to accuse them of using these children as sacrifices to their deity. Ironically, Stefan had suspicions that they were the ones who helped him preserve the church, but he was so infatuated with the preservation of this landmark, he just didn’t care. Maybe they were the ones who started him on his quest to search the waterways. Hmmm, what were you looking for Stefan, what was so damn important that you too fell victim to this curse?

Even my father mentioned this strange group, but his claims were even more outrageous. Kidnapped? Really dad, how could they have kidnapped a young police officer without setting off some type of alarm? Seriously, this was too insane to believe. Of course, he went onto discuss being trapped in some church, surrounded by some type of mysterious chanting. Personally, I love chanting; Gregorian's cover of Sounds of Silence is amazing!

No wait, where was I? Oh yes, he only escaped by using his badge to cut his ropes once the cult threw him into the bay. Once he freed himself, he tripped over some type of metallic box, holding some type of strange stone. Of course, he failed to find it when he searched for it. The stone had vanished. Where did it go? Maybe, just maybe it was swept away by the currents. Maps, I need to find some maps of the waterways; it definitely has to be there somewhere.

Deities, a Church, and the Curse

Uncle Robert, what is this Church of Starry Wisdom you write about in your journal? I have searched the Internet, and can’t find anything on it. There were some legends written in an old book of folklore that talked about a decrepit abandoned church that made the townspeople cringe. Is this the church? Is this what you stumbled upon? From the book, it was an old gothic style church that overtook the night sky like an apparition from beyond.

I don’t know, maybe this was it; maybe this was the church that drove you insane. According to the journal, my uncle could not purge the church from his mind; he had to go in. Not long after that, he was found dead in his apartment. The only thing of any importance that was left behind was his journal.

Uncle Robert isn’t the only one in the family to mention a church. In his journal, Stefan-Kingston Blake also speaks of his journey into a church. Much like Robert, Stefan had an eye for history. According to his words, the town wanted to demolish this church, but he saw that as a tragedy and fought to declare it a historical landmark. Incredibly, the local historical society agreed, and declared this church as a place of historical significance as it was used as a place of worship to a non-Christian deity. Non-Christian deity, could this be Azathoth? Or one of the Great Old Ones mentioned by Uncle Robert? Could this be the same church? 

Stefan continued that soon after this decision, he became a pariah in the town. He wrote of going to sleep in his bed and strangely waking up inside the church; feeling motivated to restore it. Of course, no one in town would help, and absolutely no one would offer the funds to do so. Crazy, it sounds as if he is living here today, as those same sentiments permeate through society. No one cares about anything anymore, and with this economy, yeah right!

From that point on, Stefan talks about his quest to search nearby waterways for some type of artifact. For over three years, he became obsessed with this search; and ironically, was found dead on the banks of the river. The crazed look emblazed upon his face and his journal by his side. Crazy, fear of the dark, a stone, or some artifact; do you see the similarities yet? I do.

From that journal, I discovered an interesting newspaper article that mentioned my father. Dad, what happened, why couldn’t I have known you? Why weren’t you there for mom? Sorry, but according to this article, my father was arrested for arson after he burnt a church to the ground. Was this the same church? Was this sanctuary the same Church of Starry Wisdom that my uncles talked about in their journals? In this article, the townspeople watched as he rammed his car through the gate at the entrance to the church. They saw him run up the hill to the church carrying a large can of gasoline. From the map, he was successful, there is a local restaurant sitting in that location today.

Other than that article, there is no real mention of the church in dad’s journal, although there are some strange references to religion and some type of demonic force based here on Earth. In fact, his last journal entry reads, “My daughter will not see it, I will see to that soon enough. I will burn the evil to the ground before my daughter sees the three lobed burning eye if it is the last thing I do.”

What was truly strange about these journals and the similar entries is the way they intersect. Honestly, there is something strange with them, stranger than I could have ever imagined when I started to dive into them. I fear; I have opened a door that I cannot close. Have you ever had the feeling that you were being watched? I feel that way right now. Something is not right.

It is crazy, but I have felt this way since I began my research into the family curse. At first, I thought it was nothing. That was until I noticed a car following me.  Was it just some jerk checking me out? Possibly, but, if that’s the case, why is he still around? Is he still around? I thought, I saw him again the next day and the day after that, but poof, he was gone. Coincidence, possibly, maybe I am just going insane like my ancestors before me. Stay tuned for more!

Outside, I hate going outside…

I'm sure you've deciphered that what little time I spend outside is usually plagued by the thoughts of what's to happen when I return to the journals. Days out, as infrequently as they come, are filled with the uneasy gaze of parents standing outside, watching their children decorate for Halloween.

I can mold plenty of figurines that'll scare the community judging committee into another realm come all hallows eve, if I chose to. Although, my guess would be that I'm ruining the whole neighborhoods theme; dark, gloomy house, dark, gloomy house, dark, gloomy house, house lit like the gates of heaven, and dark, gloomy house. I don't blame them though; they don’t know what I know.

As you know, my mother was a troubled soul (on her inside). But, but when she went out, she'd often put on a persona of jubilation to compensate for the fright in her heart. That is typical for someone in fear of losing everything, especially with the threat of losing his or her child to the government system. That would drive anyone mad.

Sorry, I was rambling again. So today, I took my weekly trip to the market for the usual purchases: batteries, macaroni, cheese, and energy drinks. I also threw in a battery-operated LED light (for the dark crevices the incandescent lights don't shine through). As I headed back to the house, I could feel the sense of unease rise and with every step, the dread continued to build.

Soon, I was back here in here and alone again with my journals. Oh uncle, will it all truly end when the Trapezohedron is returned? Will it?

Uncle Please Help!

“Azathoth have mercy!—the lightning no longer flashes—horrible—I can see everything with a monstrous sense that is not sight—light is dark and dark is light . . . those people on the hill . . . guard . . . candles and charms . . . their priests. . . .” Diary of Robert Blake (H.P. Lovecraft).

Oh Uncle Robert, what were you talking about? What is this stone, the Shining Trapezohedron, what does this all mean? I wish mother had told me who you were. I know deep inside that there is more to this story than any of us know. From my little bit of research, I believe you were murdered because of something you discovered. But, what was it?

Of course, if you could hear me talking right now, you are probably asking me why I am so concerned about you, and your death. After all, you did die (were murdered) decades ago. You see uncle; something strange has started to happen lately after I began to dive into your journals. This may sound crazy, but something is here. Something or someone has entered my life and is haunting my every move. No, I have not seen them, but I can feel them. They are here.

Who, what is it? The further I read on; you too had strange encounters before tragedy descended upon you. The darkness in the light, I see it too. According to the ancient texts I have found online, The Great Old Ones, our ancestors, they were revered for generations before those unwilling to embrace their true history shunned them. Is that true? Did you find a connection to Yuggoth, if so, where can I find it? Oh uncle, please, give me a sign. What is this stone I see? Why is it consuming me? Is it this Trapezohedron? I am so confused! If you can hear me, please help me.

1935

Cycle of three… Insanity. From the look of it, everything started around 1935; at least that is what I have found in the first journal. Was he losing his mind? Is our family just that crazy? Am I next? Sure, it looks that way, carrying this flashlight all the time. Yep, I am carrying on the tradition as one of those crazy paranoid neighbors who never turned off the lights (if you see what I see, you wouldn’t either).

Uncle, what is happening, what are these whispers? Why am I hearing voices? Is there more? Will there be demons, and odors, or some type of creature from the depths? I can’t take it much longer, and to think, I just started researching your journal. I don’t know, I’m just scared for my life. 

I swear though, that if I can find a way to stop this nightmare, I will. The clues are here, in these journals. The question is, can I put them together? I believe I can, no, I know I can. Uncle, please, give me the strength to find the secrets, to succeed where our family has failed so many times before. I have to go for now, these whispers are growing louder and I can’t take it.

And So It Begins...

I am not sure where I should begin, so, I decided to start this blog to keep track of my discoveries as I go through these journals and dissect what has happened to my family. Honestly, I am overwhelmed at this point; everything is so confusing. Looking back now, many things are starting to become clear, and those are driving me to go deeper.

I often remember my childhood (as hectic as it was), when my mother told me that her fear of the dark stemmed from a story about a family curse she heard when she was my age. I never put much thought into that until now as I wade through these journals; at least the parts that I can decipher on my own. From what I can tell, my ancestor Robert Blake’s journal seems to chronicle the beginning of the Blake family curse and the toll it took on our family.

His journal is full of the odd and strange, and details his obsession with a secret hidden inside an old church in Providence. From some of the incoherent ramblings, great uncle Robert entered the sanctuary and discovered some type of relic that started him on the path to his demise. In fact, that church and that object have connected all three journals, and the mysterious consequence that has led to the authors’ death.

Unfortunately, I have not found anything concrete in my readings and many mysteries remain, especially about the strange cycle my mother warned me about. Cycle of three, mom, what were you talking about? What is this? Am I destined to be cursed as well? Who knows?

One strange fact that did catch my attention was the authors’ deaths and the way they all suffered from the same type of affliction that overtook my mother. Incredibly, my father and ancestors all had the same exact expression on their faces as my mother did when they died.  How can that be? How is it possible, the events occurred generations apart? I don’t know… All I do know is there is something strange happening to my family, and if I don’t figure it out, it may happen to me as well. I guess that means I have some more digging to do. 

Make sure you continue to follow my blog, as it keeps you abreast of what I have found. Who knows, maybe you will save my life at some point.