Well.... She's Crazy

I think I might try out a little talking about myself before I go more into Elizabeth’s journal. It’s…. Tangentially related to her, at least.

Just because I’ve been only posting the entries doesn’t mean my own problems have vanished…. Still unemployed…. Still wasting my time at home….

I realized I couldn’t keep that up forever. A diet of peanut butter and ramen can only get one so far. I’d need to leave this shell and go out into the world eventually….

It was this journal that let me do it. Ever since I’d started to really pour over this, I’ve felt like there’s a little voice in the back of my head. Always telling me, “Elizabeth wouldn’t be so scared. She wouldn’t be so paralyzed by shyness that she couldn’t even go outside. You think you have problems? This is nothing compared to what Elizabeth was going through.”

After a while, it started to get to me…. Which led to me finally leaving the house, walking down the street to that McDonalds, and filling out an application. I even squeaked out a little small talk with the people working there before running back home. That was the first regular conversation I’ve had with another person since July…. It’s nothing like robbing a bank or throwing people out a window in a bar fight, but it’s still a step closer than where I was before. Now I just need to wait for a call for an interview, and hopefully soon I’ll actually be capable of financially supporting myself. I’d say wish me luck, but right now the only active reader here appears to be a self proclaimed mass murderer….

Of course, all of this was done before I got home, read the next few days in the journal, and realized that the woman I was trying to be like may have been insane…. I won’t say anything here, just going to post what I read and let you see.

11:00 AM-12:00 PM

I’ve begun to receive replies from Miskatonic. I hope that with time, I can turn this into a regular correspondence. They’re probably my best avenue for information hunting.

Spent most of the morning trying to think of how to tell Dorian what was following us without sounding like an idiot. Didn’t find much success in that endeavor, really. Eventually I gave up and just decided to wing it, like I usually do.

When I managed to get ahold of Dorian, I nearly had a panic attack as my mind went blank. Couldn’t think of what to say. I’m starting to believe that maybe I should just stick to fighting things, and leave the socializing to someone else….

Eventually I did succeed in telling him. And he didn’t believe me. Thought I was joking. Joking? I was trying to save your life, and you think I’m joking?

That got me mad. I was going to make him believe me, dammit. I grabbed his arm, and pulled him outside. It had been out there, watching us from the dirt street the whole time. Strange how no one noticed it. People, horses, carriages, all made detours to go around the thing, but not one man or beast turned an eye towards it.

As we got closer to it, Dorian began to struggle, and attempted to break free of my grip. Some unconscious survival instinct, which understood better than he what he was looking at. I kept pulling him along, creating a bit of a scene on that street.

His struggles stopped once we were close enough to really see the thing. It stood perfectly still, arms locked to its side, that eyeless head gazing directly at us…. Dorian whispered something about it not having a face to himself, too shocked to do anything else but stare.

As I was really planning on not dying there, we ran back inside. It didn’t follow us. Dorian now believes me, which I guess means I won the argument. Hooray.

Okay, so something without a face. She’s still being vague on the details, but I didn’t see that coming. Kept reading the rest of the day’s notes to find an explanation, but there wasn’t any. Typical.

While strange, I can’t call Elizabeth crazy based off this entry alone. It’s too vague, and I really don’t understand what’s going on. So I continued to read, until I got to the night entries.

2:00-3:00 AM

Finally time for me to get to work. Living a semi-normal life had been fun for a while. No more time for that, now it was back to the realm of monsters.

Los Valle has a small cemetery connected to its church. Nothing that interesting, unless you know what to look for. Signs of digging apart from the holes made for the graves, stories about bodies disappearing, children with feral faces and alien natures…. Ghouls. I’d seen the signs of them, but they hadn’t attacked anyone while I was in town, so I’d elected to leave them alone. But now things were starting to get all eldritch around here, which called for a change in plans.

Brought Dorian to the cemetery with me. He was nervous, and still not over what he’s seen during the day. But now that he was involved in this, I couldn’t leave him behind. Told him to bring his gun, but under absolutely no circumstances to fire it unless I said so. Couldn’t have him starting a fight because he was being jumpy.

We went out an hour after midnight; me leading with a lantern, and Dorian behind me, carrying a bag holding a dead coyote we’d hunted early in the day. Once we reached the center of the cemetery, Dorian placed the bag on the ground, between the tombstones, and we stepped back. I shouted something to let them know we were there. Stupid. Of course they knew we were there. All we could do then was stand there, and hope that the ghouls didn’t decide that fresh human would taste better than the snack we brought for them.

Suddenly three figures sprang from the darkness onto the bag. Creatures with rubbery skin, slouched poses, and canine muzzles. They tore apart the bag, and started to feast on the dead animal inside, slurping up blood and cracking bones apart. Dorian shouted something and drew his gun, but I stopped him before he could fire.

Less than a minute later, the coyote had been devoured, leaving the ground covered in broken bones and dark blood. Their meal finished, the ghouls turned towards us, red eyes hungrily staring us down, blood dripping from their mouths. It was fairly obvious that they were measuring up Dorian and me for a potential second course. That both of us were armed with guns may have been the only thing keeping them back.

One of them spoke, in their meeping, gibbering language. Didn’t understand a word of it. Wish I had a translator with me, like the last time. Communicating was going to be very difficult without one….

Carefully keeping my eyes on the ghouls in case they tried anything, I started to draw in the dirt. A stick man, with disproportionately long limbs. Then I carefully drew an x over the face. The ghouls recoiled from it in fear. They knew what it was I had drawn.

There were dozens of questions I wanted to ask them. Stupid language barrier. Had to focus on the most important one; which was going to be damn hard using dirt drawings.

Did my best at drawing a crack, tear, fissure, whatever you want to call it. Came out just looking like a jagged line. Needed something better. Something to illustrate the jagged white tear floating in the air that I’d seen before I wound up here…. Sudden inspiration hit me: I poured some of the lantern’s oil down the line, then lit it. Fire was the closest I could come to emulating that white light.

The ghouls stared at my little fire show for a while. Then one pointed northwards, across the desert and towards the mountains. It also said a few words in its language, but I don’t have a clue what any of it meant, so I’m just going to hope it was relevant to my question. Then again, it’d be hard to imagine how it wouldn’t; it’s not like they’d mistake my drawing for the other reality defying burning tear in the air related to the tall guy. Because there’s just so many of those lying around.

Questioning done, time to leave. The ghouls still looked unnerved by my drawings, but I wasn’t sure if it was enough to keep them from attacking us. We left as fast as we could, and ran until we got inside.

So I’ve got a lead. Small lead, but a lead. Next step, start preparing an expedition north to the mountains.

So…. We’ve got her talking about meeting monsters called ghouls in a cemetery late at night, tall faceless things, and glowing white tears in something. Either she’s making all of it up, or she really thinks it’s happening and is insane. I don’t know which of those I dislike more.

Or….

She’s telling the truth, and I’m not going to sleep tonight as I think about the implications of that….

…..

I’m starting to think I may read too many horror novels for my own good….

-Lisa