It is with great trepidation that I begin to relate to you the events which occurred in the small New England town of Dunwich.
I have long been an admirer of the works of H.P. Lovecraft, and with a weeks vacation to spare I found the perfect opportunity to explote. It was with a sense of awe and reverence that I first set foot in this quiet, sleepy hamlet. Yet, it soon became apparent that something was amiss. The air was thick with a palpable sense of unease, and the few locals I encountered seemed to regard me with a wary suspicion. Despite this however, I recall my visit with great fondness - truly an atmosphere one must experience themselves to appreciate.
It was on my third day in Dunwich that I first heard the rumors of the strange occurrences that had plagued the town for centuries. Tales of witchcraft, pagan rituals, and unspeakable horrors whispered in hushed tones by the townsfolk. As a student of the occult, I could not resist the allure of such tales.
Thus, it was with great excitement that I set out one moonless night to explore the ruins of an ancient church that lay deep in the woods beyond the town’s outskirts. The locals had warned me against venturing out after dark, but I was fearless in my pursuit of knowledge and eager to unravel the mysteries of this strange place.
As I made my way deeper into the woods, I became aware of a strange sense of foreboding that settled upon me. The trees seemed to loom menacingly overhead, their branches twisted and gnarled like the fingers of some malevolent creature, as if to be grabbing at my legs.
I stumbled and fell to my knees before freeing my foot from a particularly stubborn root that had encircled my ankle. The air was thick with a cloying, sickly sweet scent, and I could hear the faint sounds of chanting in the distance.
I soon came upon the ruins of the church, its crumbling stone walls covered in moss and ivy. The entrance was sealed shut with an ancient wooden door engraved with strange symbols, but I was undeterred. Using a conveniently laid plank nearby, I set to work prying the door open. With a sickly crunch, the door gave way. A foul odour struck me as I stumbled forward into the chapel.
It was then that I first saw them. A group of shadowy figures, cloaked in robes of deepest black, emerged from around me, from within the church as well as the forest behind. There was no escaping them.
Their faces were obscured by the hoods of their robes, but I could feel their eyes upon me, watching my every move with an eerie intensity.
Before I could react, they were upon me. Their cold, clammy hands seizing me and dragging me into the depths of the ruined church. I struggled and fought against them, but it was to no avail. I was powerless in their grasp, a mere plaything for their dark and twisted desires.
What followed was a blur of madness and horror, a maelstrom of sights and sounds that defied all reason and comprehension. The air was thick with the stench of rot and decay, and the walls seemed to pulse with a sickly, malignant energy.
I saw things that no mortal eyes should ever witness, unspeakable horrors beyond the realm of human understanding. Demonic entities, writhing and twisting in the shadows, their malevolent laughter ringing in my ears. Twisted, malformed creatures, half-human and half-beast, prowling through the darkness with slavering jaws and razor-sharp claws.
And in the midst of it all, the chanting. The ceaseless changing. A maddening, rhythmic chant that echoed through the ruined church like the beating of some infernal heart. The language was unknown to me, yet I could feel its power coursing through my veins, like a poison infecting my very soul.
Days or perhaps even weeks passed in this nightmarish realm, time itself seeming to lose all meaning. I could feel my mind slipping away, my sanity unraveling like a frayed piece of cloth. And yet, through it all, a strange sense of fascination and curiosity held me in its thrall. I could not tear myself away from the horrors that surrounded me.
I awoke with a start in a strange bed, surrounded by metallic implements - the bright flourescent lights a stark contrast to my last memories. The local physician jumped with a start as I came to. I had apparently been found in the woods just beyond town. Some passersby saw me trip on entering the woods and be rendered unconscious from a knock to the head. Only a three days at Dunwich and I was to spend the remainder of my trip in the clinic on bed rest.
Time crawled as I lay in the clinic, under constant observation from the medical staff - the absence of any means of keeping time out of reach. My phone had broken in the fall, and there were no clocks, televisions or radios in my room. Only the slow setting of the sun indicated the passage time at all - though a pleasant tune always seemed to emminate from somewhere within the town as night fell - lulling me to sleep.
Although I counted several days passing, I was assured on my third day that I was cleared to leave. When confronted that it was impossible only three days had passed, the doctor laughed, brushing this aside with an assurance that I had hit my head quite hard.
Without waiting a moment, I quickly returned to the woods in broad daylight - taking extra care to step past the roots that were my undoing on the first passage.
The path remained imprinted in my mind, each twist and turn learding me to the church. However, on arriving, all that indicated a building had ever stood there at all was an occasional brick found in the now vacant clearing.
With great disappointment, I returned to my hotel, and decided to enjoy my final day in Dunwich - the week passing all too fast with three of my seven days spent hospitalized. I noticed my initial observations of the town were inaccurate - the townsfolk simply passed me by without a second glance. The sense of unease having been replaced with a pleasant calm.
Before I knew it, my vacation had come to an end. It was with the deepest sorrow I saw the town of Dunwich fade from my rear view mirror. Humming a rhythmic tune, I crested the hill - vowing to return at my next chance.
In the meantime, I feel compelled to tell everyone I can to experience Dunwich at their earliest convenience.
I trust this letter finds you well.
S.K.