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!

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?