My dearest Catrina,
I hope that these words find you in due time and good health, for I know not much more than this one sole fact: my time in this plane of existence draws near its end.
To explain to you in reasonable detail the events that had transpired these last few days and nights, I know not the words or the imagery to convey properly what I leave on these pages, yet some driving force inside of me has compelled me to try anyway, for if anyone were to believe these words as more than just ramblings of a dying man, I do believe it to be you.
I know not what has created the hellish monstrosities that I have faced, nor do I know their true intent or purpose on this earth. All I do know is that what they want, what they need to survive, what they feed on, it is not something our simple minds can fathom.
I had left town to spend time at my cabin by the lake, in hopes that being near the water would clear my mind of what had occured between us. I know I had not been a good husband to you, I know I had left a painful mark on your memory of me, but I truly hope you do not hold any negative emotion towards me moving forward.
I had hoped that coming to the cabin would clear my mind, that maybe I could try to write again. Being here, smelling the pines and dew and feeling the water on my feet should have brought me some semblance of peace for even but a day, but no.
As soon as I had arrived here, I knew something had gone awry. I entered the cabin and instead of being greeted by the musty air, something else entirely filled my senses. I was attacked by a sense of urgent dread, something so powerful that as I walked past the threshold into the wooded, one room place, I had instantly collapsed to my knees in a feeling of panic and terror, as if some ferocious, unrelenting force had entangled itself within my very being and held me there, tearing at my soul like a wild bear. After what felt like an eternity, I arose and found my footing to the couch, and I lay there, eyes closed and head stinging profusely. I found myself unconscious suddenly, and I hadn’t awoken until nightfall. That dreadful feeling had subsided and I was most thankful for this, yet I still feared another attack could happen at any moment and I would be completely defenceless against it.
I stepped out into the grassy field in front of the cabin for a breath of air. The dark treeline would fill so many with fear, but not me.
Not even after the earlier events.
Being lost in nature, in the middle of nowhere and away from any other person, that is my happiness. And I know now that this feeling of peaceful solitude had been one of our greatest downfalls. I had always been looking for reasons to be away from you Catrina. I know this was wrong. I know I should have been including you in my endeavours, not keeping them separate from my life with you. If I could change the events that lead us to our destruction, I most surely would without thought.
I took in a few deep breaths, collecting myself and my thoughts. The silence of the trees began to fill my head, until I looked up and instantly began to feel confused.
It had to be the middle of the night by now, it was an abyss of black all around me.
Yet there were no stars.
The night sky was as black as the depth of the trees in front of me.
Where had they gone? I could make out no clouds, no overcast. Even so, I should have seen some form of light above me. And yet, as I looked up into the vast nothingness above me, I felt an unusually abrupt feeling that something was watching me with equal wonder and confusion. I know not if the feeling came from above or beyond me, but I couldn’t help shake the feeling that something had begun to sense my presence, and it wasn’t sure what to do with the knowledge of my existence here. Quickly, I turned and stepped back into the cabin to try and sleep.
Sleep had come quickly, but my dreams were hellacious and horrifyingly bloodcurdling. I dreamt of evil images. A visage of true terror, of inexplicable pain and agony amongst me and the masses of the townsfolk of which we’ve lived. It was as if this unforeseeable terror had lurked through the town overnight and had changed the people that we’ve lived with, the very folks in which we had called friends, into hell folk, demonic dopplegangers of our neighbors. They looked normal to me, they even sounded normal, but that feeling that these people were not the people I had known had lingered in my thoughts all night. It was as if the thing that had grabbed me when I had arrived had found its way into my mind, and slowly it had begun to modify and adjust my thoughts to fit its evil needs.
The dreams continued through the next few days, as nothing truly happened aside from this. They began to only worsen, the feeling of impending dread continuing to lurk just beyond my mind’s eye.
I awoke early one day, and I forced myself not to focus on my dreams, so I arose as quickly as my eyes had opened and prepared a day at the lake. I would bring my fishing rod, and my pen and papers. If I couldn’t catch a fish, then I would at least attempt to write. If I couldn’t write a story, then I would begin my plan to write a letter to you, Catrina.
The lake was eerily quiet when I had approached the wharf.
No ripples appeared atop the water, and no flies or mosquitoes seemed to approach me as I stood there. The silence was as powerful as the night before. I attempted a few casts of my rod, but inevitably after no signs of activity from the fish, I began to write. The letter I had written was a poor excuse of what you deserved to hear from me. I had only tried to justify my actions, I had tried to explain myself to you so you could possibly understand why I had done what I had done. I knew you deserved better of me than that, so I had tore up the pages and began again.
I didn’t notice until so much long after that the writings on the paper were not my own.
How long had I been at the lake? It was nearly nightfall now, and I had no idea of how so much time had passed without my notice. As I looked upon the paper, the words I read were foreign to me, and I could not begin to understand their meanings. It was a convoluted mess of letters that I had never seen together. They were hastily scribbled and scratched onto the paper. For whatever reason it may have been, looking at the pages I began to realise the words were repeated.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
The combination was everywhere on the sheets, and a terror unlike any I have ever felt began to comb over my body as I read the words aloud. A sudden darkness filled my mind, a knowledge of something I had not noticed before.
I was not alone here.
I was not alone since I stepped foot in my cabin. A presence had been beside me the entire time, its writhing and twisted form holding me since I had arrived. A pain tore through my body as I tried to stand up, knocking me onto my back and holding me there.
And this is where I finally saw it.
A black mass of tendrils and an even blacker ichor stood atop of me now, holding me to the wharf. It repeated the words to me. Over and over and over and over, everytime the words were said it sounded as if another voice joined in, like a choir of demons singing their praise unto me.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit.
The inky black liquid that was leaking from the creature poured into my mouth. It filled my lungs with a burning pain. It then poured over my eyes, my nose, my entire face until I could not breathe. I began to writhe in pain. I tried to fight away from this thing, but I couldn’t move even in the slightest.
My mind took me away from the wharf. I travelled back to the last night I had with you. I saw our fight, I saw how you told me you were leaving me. You were done with me being so distant from you, being so caught up in my own world to not see you beside me through everything I had faced recently.
I saw me beg you to stay, I saw me grab your wrists and beg you not to leave me. I saw you tell me to let go, that nothing would change your mind.
I saw my hands wrap around your throat.
I awoke again on the couch, this time in a cold sweat, my throat burning and dry. The image of that…thing on the wharf would not leave the forefront of my thoughts. How real of a dream it was.
I got myself a glass of water and stepped back out into the field of grass.
From where I stood, I looked out to the trees. Just beyond the line, I could see it.
The mound of dirt that would soon be covered in grass and lilies.
Your favourite flower.
I made sure to plant them above your body, I knew that would make you the happiest.
My dear Catrina, my time is coming to an end. If I am to be truthful, I know what I had saw that day on the wharf was real. I know it soon shall come back for me. It’s like a predator, and it has found its prey in me. It will return soon enough and take me to where it dwells and it will consume me. I know this to be true.
Hopefully I will see you again, my love.
Where am I? I awoke inside of this stone room in complete darkness aside from a lantern beside me on the floor. The room was barren aside from me and my only source of light, and my journal and pen. A doorway leads into a darkness unlike any I have ever witnessed, and I swear I can hear breathing from something just outside. Something inside my head is trying to convince me to investigate, but I am trying my hardest to fight off these thoughts. I will stay in this room for as long as I can, until the need for answers becomes unbearable.
It’s felt like at least three weeks that I have been in this room. Strangely, I feel no need for food or drink here. I know not where I am, but I assume it to be the afterlife. It certainly feels like some form of purgatory, like I am in the Devil’s waiting room. The breathing outside of my door has not subsided, it is still just beyond my vision, but I now plan to investigate it and see what it is, or even what it wants. I fear these answers will not be found, but I have nothing else to lose.
I entered the abyss and hadn’t found the source of the breathing thing, yet I found more rooms like the one I was in. Some had lanterns, others were as black as the hallway I had found myself in. I even found a set of stairs leading both upwards and down. Hoping for an exit, I went downward, but after traversing thirty flights, I feared that this idea was moot.
So I travelled down the hallway of this floor, feeling water on my feet. I could hear trickling too, as if the source of this water was somewhere near.
And it was!
I found a room just like mine, except for one grand, yet horrifying difference. A giant hole was in the wall in the back of the room. Water was leaking into the room from this hole, showing me that this floor was level with the ocean beyond the walls.
I looked outside and to my horror, I saw no land beyond here. I looked up and saw a blood red night sky. A giant mass was up there that I had no true understanding of its size. It looked as if it was a neverending form, resembling the creature at the wharf yet infinitely larger. It seemed to be consuming itself and creating itself all at the same time, masses of tendrils entering itself and exiting from different orifices. I would have believed it to be faceless, until it opened one giant eye and looked directly at me. Its eye was bigger than the sun itself, and its colour was of a hue I had never seen in my life.
It peered into my soul and it took my sanity as it stared!
I felt myself beginning to go mad as the thing looked upon me. I could see nothing aside from it. Nothing else mattered as I looked upon this mad God.
God.
I knew that’s what this creature was. A God. I know not how this came to me, nor did I truly care, for I knew this God was my judge and executioner. And I had found myself in it’s jailhouse. My hands had pushed me back into the building, away from the sight of the thing above, and I could feel my sanity coming back to me.
I stood in the corner of the room, out of sight of that thing, and collected myself.
I found another journal in this room as well. One of a man named Ezekiel. It would seem as though he too had found himself here. I would now make it my mission to find Ezekiel, and maybe collect some information on where this place is from him.
I know I am here by my own actions, this is my hell. I know this to be true. I will find my way out of this place however, I will not stop unt-
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit
J’uaklo’pomserok’ti Ne’loytra’plitahti Lis’ololp’a’e’qodplit