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.
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?
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!
