September 25, 1984 - Miskatonic University, Arkham

71

Peter was right. The Necronomicon is a weird book. But it’s also fascinating. Some days I start reading in the morning, and when I look up I find that it’s sunset. There’s an entire world being described in this book, one I never thought could exist, beyond even the hidden world of the Fears.

Of course it would help if this damn book would just cooperate and let me read it like a regular book. There is something definitely supernatural about this thing. Some pages, you read them, blink, and the page has changed. Or a chapter will appear in the middle of the night, only to vanish by sunrise. And it seems to decide what language it will be written in each day at random. Even as I’m manipulating time to try and learn more languages as I go, I can’t keep up with all the changes. Especially since half the time the words aren’t even written in any human language I can identify.

So I’ve had to call in some help. Peter volunteered immediately. Such a good boy, so determined to please. Unfortunately, his eagerness can’t always be translated into productivity. Not his fault; there’s a lot of weird stuff in here that I doubt any living human has the knowledge needed to fully understand. And even with his dedication, he had to take a break from reading the book after a while. Kept complaining about “bad dreams.” I dunno, I haven’t experienced anything like that. Actually, ever since I started reading the Necronomicon, I’ve been experiencing quiet, nightmare free nights for the first time in ages.

To counter that, we’ve brought in two of Peter’s friends, so that someone can always be working with me while the others take a break from the book’s madness. One’s named Benjamin; he’s a bookish graduate student studying ancient languages, so he’s doing his best to translate stuff for us. Whenever he can, that is; there are days when it changes into something that none of us recognize, and the best we can do is wait for the next day and hope the chapter’s become a language we can work with. And that it’s still in the same place. Or still in the book.

The other friend is Sarah, the girl from the library. She hates me because she has a crush on Peter that only he cannot see. I’m trying to see if I can invite her along one night, but so far she’s rejected every hint I’ve dropped…. Anyways, she’s read the most eldritch lore from Orne Library out of anyone Peter knows, which makes her perfect for cross referencing information I find. And her eagerness to be working with someone on uncovering the Necronomicon outweighs whatever jealousy she holds against me, luckily enough.

Interesting thing about that cross referencing. It’s not as helpful as I’d hoped. I’m really not sure what’s going on with it, but it seems almost like the Necronomicon exists in a bubble. Within the Necronomicon, I read of a world of ancient sleeping gods, lost Cyclopean cities, worlds of impossible geographies, creatures beyond any imagining. But when I look at the other books of Orne Library, I find something else. I find the Fears. In the Necronomicon I read about Great Cthulhu, outside of the Necronomicon all I find is EAT. In the Necronomicon I find Azathoth, outside the Necronomicon I find the Archangel. Instead of Shub-Niggurath, I find the Wooden Girl. Instead of Yog-Sothoth, the Empty City. It’s almost as though someone cut out every reference to the creatures from the Necronomicon and inserted the Fears.

Need to do more research. I’m learning so much, but there’s still so much more to learn. At least I’ve got a near monopoly on these three’s time; it’s flu season in Miskatonic, so no one’s showing up to classes anyway.

What I have found isn’t comforting. If the Necronomicon is accurate, these old gods were practically the rulers of the universe. Grendel calling them “gods” wasn’t a misnomer: they’re powers were on the scale with gods. It would be an exaggeration to say that humans were insects compared to them. We were grains of dust in their eyes; so small they wouldn’t even notice our screams as they destroyed us with merely their presence.

And then something happened. Something that caused them to vanish from everything but the Necronomicon. And instead of them, we have the Fears. A new set of gods, which have taken a personal interest in tormenting humanity. Can’t say that’s much of an improvement. But at least none of the Fears seem to be planning on the destruction of our race at the moment.

Enough of this for now. Need to get back to studying. Need to figure out what happened to these old gods, and more importantly, how Grendel’s planning to bring them back.

I-330

September 15, 1984 - Miskatonic University, Arkham

61

I’ve been having a reeeeeaaaal good time the past few days.

After some… less than successful attempts at intelligence gathering, I decided to visit Miskatonic University. From what I’ve heard, their library has practically everything in it, so maybe I could find out what this revolution of the old gods Grendel talked about is.

So there I was in Orne Library. Felt like I hadn’t left the place in days. Went through book after book, and at times it looked like I was about to uncover an answer, only for it to become a dead end. Whenever an author started to seem like they were going somewhere about these old gods, they’d suddenly trial off onto a different subject.

Then, as I’m nose deep in another tome, I hear someone say, “I-330?” I hadn’t introduced myself to anyone since coming here, so the fact someone knew me was a surprise. Looked up from the book, and I saw a dark haired man standing by my table.

“It’s me! Peter! Peter Walsh!”

Oh. Wow. Last time I saw him, he was middle aged. And being shot. “It’s been… a while!” From my perspective, at least. I had no idea how long it had been from his. “You’re looking good.” It’s true. He really, really was looking good.

“You should have told me you were coming to Miskatonic! How long have you been staying here?”

“Um… You know, there aren’t any windows by this part of the library, so I haven’t been able to keep track of how many times the sun’s gone down….”

From there we talked about my research, what I was looking for and the lack of real success. Peter snapped his fingers and said, “I think I might be able to help you with that. Follow me.”

He began to lead me to the back of the library, as I subtly tried to figure out the temporal shenanigans without letting on that any temporal shenanigans existed. From what I got, the last time he saw me was when he was a kid, and I stopped by Miskatonic to meet with his grandfather. Since I haven’t met his grandfather, and since he asked what happened to my eyepatch (he accepted “I got better” as an excuse,) I’m assuming that was a future me. We reached the door, hidden in an alcove between shelves. The door had the label, “Archive Offices Room 3” on it. Through the door, and into the dusty room. Old books covered the walls and floors in neatly stacked rows, with such density that it was nearly impossible to walk through. I guess the university here is a bit of a hoarder when it comes to books. A girl was asleep at her desk behind the organized mess. Peter coughed, and she stirred awake.

“Huh… Peter….” She practically jumped out of the chair. “Oh god did I fall asleep again?”

Peter chuckled, clearly familiar with the scenario. “Morning, Sarah. We just need the key to the inner archive room.”

“We?” She looked at me and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.

“I’m I-330.” That got the usual disbelieving expression. “I’m a friend.”

Was that a hint of jealousy I saw flash in her eyes? Whether it was or not, she was all smiles as she handed Peter a keyring. And… two flashlights?

Had to navigate the maze of books again to reach another door. Peter unlocked the door, and opened it to reveal a dark room beyond. So I guess that’s the reason for the flashlights, but… “Why aren’t there lights in there?”

“We’ve never been able to get the electrical wiring to work in this part of the library. Every few years someone in maintenance tries to fix them, and they’ll work for a few days, only for it all to suddenly short out again.”

Alright that isn’t suspicious in the slightest. Flashlights it was, then.

If the previous room had been an organized mess, this one was just a mess. Looked like someone had decided to play 52 card pickup with books, and had given up partway through. And nearly every step we took created a cloud of dust that resulted in coughing fits.

Except for the center of the room. There were no scattered books there. There was just a single book, laying atop a podium and held down by chains. The book’s cover was completely black, but when I pointed my flashlight at it and saw it, I felt a jolt run through my body. Like the weirdest déjà vu ever. It sounds completely insane, but I felt as though the book was calling for me.

Peter undid the lock on the chains and carefully pulled them away. Once they were gone, I brushed my hand across the cover. I had thought it was leather, but it didn’t feel like leather. It didn’t feel like anything. Even as I pressed my hand against the cover, I felt no sensation of touch.

Started to pick up the book, and Peter said, “No-” but stopped once I’d opened it up.

“What?”

“You’re… um… not supposed to be able to pick it up with your bare hands. Not without going completely insane, at least.”

Well that was an interesting fact that would have been helpful earlier. “Well I don’t feel any more insane than usual.”

“Yeah… maybe those warnings were wrong about it….” He reached forward, but pulled his hand back the moment the fingers touched the book. Smoke was rising from those fingers, and I could see burns where they had touched. “Jesus! How are you holding that?”

“Guess I’m just awesome. What is this book, anyway?”

“The Necronomicon. Written by Abdul Alhazred. The last copy of it in the world. It should contain everything you need to know, but… I don’t think anyone’s managed to read the whole thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s… a weird book. You’ll see what I mean as you get into it.”

Weird or not, this was what I needed. Now the only question was finding some place where I could stay at while I read this. Raised the issue with Peter, and he said, “Well, I know some friends who have spare rooms you may be able to use… and there’s several hotels in the city of Arkham, if you’ve got money for them….”

“What about where you’re living?”

“My apartment? I’ve only got one bed, but I could let you have that while I sleep on the couch-”

“One bed is fine.” Followed by a wink and a nudge.

If he’d had a drink, he would have spit it out. Instead he just started stammering and blushing furiously. I think there was a yes somewhere in those stammers. At least I hope there was, because as soon as I was able to get directions out of him, I practically dragged him back to his apartment and had my way with him. Sorry Peter. But college you is hot and I’ve been spending the last several days cut off from human interaction, cooped up in a library surrounded by books.

Which brings me to my present status quo. Study the Necronomicon while Peter’s at class, and lots of sex when he’s back. This is the sort of life I could get used to. Don’t know how long Petercan keep it up, but he’s got to decide: What’s more important, studying and sleep, or me? No, no need for him to answer that, I already answered it for him.

I-330

48 BC - Alexandria, Egypt

54

I SWEAR I KNOW WHAT I’M DOING

I HAVE THIS ALL UNDER CONTROL

IF ANYONE ASKS, I’M REALLY SORRY ABOUT THE LIBRARY OF ALEXANDRIA, I HAD NO IDEA THE FIRE WOULD GET THAT BIG.

I-330

July 19, 2012 - Brennenburg Castle, Poland

642

Rumor speaks of a castle hidden deep in the Prussian forests where once unwholesome rituals were performed to open a gateway between universes. None could tell me anything about the specifics of what had happened, apart from fragmented anecdotes hinting at the dark history of Brennenburg Castle.

I wasn’t expecting to find anything helpful there. After checking through multiple prestigious libraries, an abandoned castle and some scattered rumors weren’t exactly the most promising options. But my other options had run out, so to the castle I went.

Don’t know what happened to this place, but it must have been nasty. Parts of the castle looked like they’d been torn apart, bloodstained torture instruments were hidden in the dark corners of the dungeons, and there were a lot more skeletons than I was expecting. There was a library in the outer section of the library, but while the books it had were interesting, they contained nothing I didn’t already know. For the real knowledge, I needed to go deeper into the castle.

Didn’t help that the castle seemed to be designed like a maze. What kind of dumbass architect makes sections of a building only accessible by going through the sewers? And what was with gears for the elevator being hidden in the next room, or keys being placed in seemingly inaccessible spots? I found myself just smashing through walls instead of having to deal with the circular insane logic needed to navigate this castle.

I had an encounter with what might have been a remnant of the castle’s past while searching through some flooded hallways. Heard the sound of splashing coming toward me, as though something was chasing me. I could see the splashes it made in the water with its approach, but I couldn’t physically see it. However, I was able to see its presence in time. When it lunged for me, I grabbed it and tore it in half. Guess this shadow arm’s going to be useful after all.

Once I reached the innermost section of the castle, I found the knowledge I sought. A ritual had been performed here, not unlike the one done by Lupine. Those glowing orbs were the keys: they were ancient devices, older than humanity, which could open the gates between universes. With the right modifications to the ritual, it could be used to open a hole into the Quiet.

So the main issue for me is going to be getting those orbs. Might take more research to figure out where I should be looking. But I’ll get them, sure enough.

I-330

August 11, 1043 - Ireland

46

Stopping Grendel might be a little harder than I had initially expected.

To start off, there’s the issue of finding out where the hell he’s gone to. Given he has the whole of Earth’s history to hide in, I can’t really narrow things down much. I’d hoped that I could trace him based on the distortions he left in time, but the timelines are naturally so knotty and screwed up that finding a single distortion amongst them’s near impossible.

Did my best to find one, though. Ended up chasing a helluva lot of dead ends before I finally stumbled on something in 11^th century Ireland.

When I first arrived, I assumed this was another goose chase. There weren’t any signs of people living in the area, and the only distinguishing features seemed to be hills, grass, and trees. Not the sort of place I’d be expecting anything important to happen in. Saw some really dark storm clouds coming in fast, so I figured I’d only look around quickly before leaving.

Walked to the top of the hill, and saw a stone circle hidden amongst the trees. Kinda like a mini Stonehenge, only overgrown and with Grendel drawing symbols on the stones out of blood. He didn’t so much as glance away from his symbols when he started speaking. “Hello dear. How can I help you?”

“I’m here to stop you from…” Um. What was he doing? “Completing your… plans!” I finished lamely.

This time he did look toward me. “Oh. The young you. And to think, for a moment I was preparing myself for excitement.” He snapped his fingers, and smoke began to pour out of a sharp edge on a stone. Out of that smoke, a monster emerged: take a bat, cross it with a zombie dog, cover the whole thing with smoke, and you’ve got an idea of what it looked like. It leaped out of the stone toward me, jaws open to rows of sharp teeth. I rolled to the side and drew a pistol, but when I looked to where it should have been, there was nothing there.

Heard a growl, and jumped aside right as the monster lunged at me from a different direction. I tried aiming at it again, but it leapt at another stone, and vanished in a cloud of smoke when it hit.

Heard another attack from behind, and when I looked back, I saw two of the monsters leaping toward me. Without any time to move out of the way, I warped out of the way. Tried shooting both of them, but again they vanished in smoke.

“The Hounds of Tindalos.” Grendel said, as the two dog monsters appeared at his side. “Creatures that exist within the angles of time. They can enter the physical world through any angles.” He waved a hand, and a glowing orb appeared. With the orb, he began to walk toward the center of the stone circle, where a circle had been made in blood. “With them here, I doubt there’s much you can do to interfere with me.” A single bird drifted down from the sky, and landed between Grendel and the star. He stopped, and stared at the bird. “You, on the other hand….”

I could hear a dull roar approaching, coming from the rain clouds I had seen in the distance. At first I thought it was the sound of rain, but when I looked again, I realized they couldn’t be clouds. Clouds don’t affect time like that. It was the opposite of Grendel: where he drew the timelines toward him, this repulsed them, as though they were being pushed away. Soon they were close enough for me to see what it really was: not clouds, but thousands of birds, flying in unison. The Convocation.

Grendel started to run toward the star, but the Convocation attacked first, hundreds of birds swarming down from the sky and completely covering him. The Hounds looked as though they were preparing to jump to his aid. Using that opening, I warped in front of one and shot through its head at point blank. It died just like anything else.

The other Hound started to turn toward me, but the Convocation was on it in a moment, tearing it apart before it could attack or run. I thought, for a moment, that the fight was over then. Only for the birds attacking Grendel to be torn to shreds. Grendel lashed violently around, his hands ending in black claws and shadowy tentacles coming from his back, killing any bird that came near. He walked to the center of the circle and placed the orb down. The sky turned dark and the lines of blood began to glow. An unseen force threw the Convocation and I back, away from the stone circle. I felt a hole opening in space, not visible in the physical world, but still present, and growing outward from the orb.

“I’ll leave you two to handle this.” Grendel said, just before he retreated into the timelines. I charged at the center of the circle, only to be thrown back again. The Convocation flew toward the circle, and it slammed into that force. The strength of the Convocation’s swarm kept it from being thrown back, but it couldn’t fly forward. Then the birds started to drop dead, until there weren’t enough to maintain the strength and it was thrown aside.

The Convocation regrouped its swarm, and flew at the circle again. It kept trying to break through, only to be thrown back every time. Its efforts couldn’t be sustained forever, as every failure killed more of the birds in its swarm. From the original horde that had been so numerous as to resemble clouds, its numbers were dropping rapidly, from thousands to hundreds, and from then to only dozens.

When the Convocation launched its next attack, I felt the shifting of time from the two forces colliding. At the point where the Convocation and this force met… Yes! I leapt down the timelines, coming out in the center of the circle.

It was like standing in a hurricane. The forces tore at me, ripping gashes into my skin and threatening to flay the muscle from my bone. Struggling against the resistance, I aimed my pistol at the glowing orb, and fired. A chunk of the orb was broken off, and instantly, the force exploded outward, destroying the stone circle. But when the explosion subsided, everything had ceased. The orb and the lines of blood no longer glowed, the sky was bright once more, and I no longer felt the hole growing in space.

With that finally dealt with, I collapsed onto the ground. Probably would need to deal with all those bleeding cuts across my entire body, but for now, rest. There were only six Convocation birds left from the original horde. One landed near me, and, well… while I can’t say I’m comfortable with this thing, especially after it killed Lucy… I felt it deserved at least a grudging nod of approval. We’d stopped Grendel. From whatever it was he was doing.

….

....

….

I really should try to figure out what it is he’s doing before I blindly run into this sort of situation again, shouldn’t I.

I-330

April 20, 1928 - Berlin, Germany

12

… The party ended a lot sooner than I’d have liked.

I was doing a run through of my favorite clubs in Berlin. Everything going like it usually did, I’d stay at a club until sunrise, jump back to sunset and hit the next club down the street, not stopping until I’d run out of clubs. This night, I didn’t make it halfway through my usual circuit before certain events made me cancel my plans.

Threw open the doors to one of the clubs and stepped inside; but instead of the usual sight of people drinking, dancing, and having a gay old time, I saw a lot of blood. And bodies. Mutilated bodies strung up from the ceiling by their own intestines, with chunks of their flesh torn out. Only saw two living people in that club: one was the piano player, on stage and still nervously playing his music. The other was Grendel.

He had taken a seat for himself at one of the tables. A man’s body had been spread across the table, his chest torn open. Grendel was licking off the last bits of meat from one of the man’s ribs when I came in. Once he saw me, he tossed the rib aside, pulled a pistol from his coat and shot the piano player through the head.

“I’ve been waiting for you, darling.” He spun around on his chair and wiped some blood of his chin with the back of his hand. “Do you like what I’ve done with the place?”

I froze up when I saw him. His physical appearance looked the same as how I remembered from when I was Lisa, but the way his body interacted with the time around him…. All the timelines bent towards him, as if they were being attracted by some force, reaching to him and then going further, as though his body were a black hole from which time infinitely fell into, the flesh and skin I saw with my eyes only a small part of the greater beast hidden within….

“No witty reply? No angry declaration? Not even a flirty snark? My, I knew the younger you was inexperienced at this, but I hadn’t realized you’d be this green, dear.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Hm?”

“Why are you calling me that? Darling, and dear, and-and-” He stood up from the chair, and I felt dizzy trying to follow the shifts in time that slight movement made.

“Why, haven’t I earned the right to do so? After all we’ve been through together?”

“We haven’t been through anything together! The only times I’ve seen you was when I was Lisa, and that hardly counts as having a history together! I still have no idea who the hell you are!”

“Darling, darling!” He placed both hands over his heart and pouted. “You’re breaking my heart, acting as though you’ve forgotten me. Was I just another passing fancy? Another of your conquests to toss aside once you’d had your fill? I thought we were something special darling. All those adventures we had together, running from the Slender Man, robbing that bank, that kiss we shared as the Archangel burned down the city….”

…. No. No no no fucking hell no. “Who are you?”

He smiled, and his face… morphed. Bone structure shifted, eye skin and hair color changed, until I was looking at the face of Dorian Gardner. The next words he spoke were all in Dorian’s voice. “Help me Elizabeth! Help me!”

“Doria-!” I stopped shouting when he began to laugh, his face and voice shifting back to Grendel’s.

“Now you remember me!”

“The hell happened to you?”

“Why, the very same thing that happened to you, honey. I just didn’t have the good fortune to be pulled out of the Quiet before Daddy was finished working on me. You really should thank me for that, you know. It took quite a lot of work to make sure Lupine didn’t fuck the whole ritual up.”

“But… why-”

He just kept grinning. “Why what? Why slaughter, torture, and maim my way through life?” He shrugged. “Why not? It’s not as though any of them would have survived much longer anyway. Is it really that terrible when a mayfly dies a few seconds early?”

There was no way I could conceal my disgust at that. “You’re not Dorian.”

Laughter. Every chuckle sounded like claws raking back and forth on a blackboard in my head. “Of course not. And no matter how much you pretend, you aren’t Elizabeth. We are the children of a god, beings beyond the weak grasp of the humans used in our creation.” He shrugged. “But that’s not the reason I came to visit you. No, I merely wished to welcome you to this universe. And also….”

He crossed the distance between us in a moment, and I was staring directly at his chest, into the heart of time’s abyss, a blackness that went on forever….

“To tell you that the revolution is coming.”

“Th-the what?”

“The day when I will lead the gods of old in uprising against the empire of the Fears, and burn this reality they control to cinders in the glorious fire of rebellion. Tell me, my love, do you know the reason why you can’t travel to this universe’s future?”

“W-well-”

He leaned his face in so it was level with mine. “It’s because there is none.” Then he was gone.

….. Well fuck me. Looks like it’s serious adventure time again. Dorian… Grendel…. It’s my fault you fell into the Quiet in the first place. Which means it’s putting you down is going to be my responsibility. You screwed up by coming to talk to me, Grendel. Now that I know you’re up to something, there’s no way I can let you continue. Whatever it is you’re planning for this revolution, I’ll stop it. Just watch me.

I-330

April 15, 1928 - Berlin, Germany

7

Fuck yeah, Time Travel!

I’ve been going all up and down these timelines, and let me tell you, it is fucking AWESOME. Only downside is that I can’t seem to visit the future; whenever I go too far ahead, it feels like I’m running into a wall. But that’s not a problem: the past has enough stuff to keep me entertained for the rest of my life!

My favorite time period? The Roaring Twenties! God I love this era. You know how Paris gets a reputation as the go to party place for the 20s? Yeah, forget Paris. Paris is boring. Berlin is where you wanna go for a good time. The clubs here are crazy in all the best ways possible.

There’s a few particular clubs that I’ve been hitting up frequently. Lots of young twenty some university students, coming together for some hedonism and Bohemian living. Love it. Plus they give me free admittance so long as I help get rid of any NSDAP assholes who come around looking for trouble.

I can’t imagine what I did before I could time travel. Oh that’s right, I sat at home all day and moped. Well, no more of that! I’m fucking free! No more family, no more house, hell, I don’t even need to worry about chronology anymore! This, this is the life!

Well, 21^st century, it’s been nice stopping by so I could post this, but I’m going to be heading back to the 20s. Ya know, the time period where all the fun people are.

I-330

March 9, 1923 - Egypt

603

It’s done.

The location where we moved the dig site was likely the most boring looking patch of land for miles around. There was sand. And some rocks. Not even interesting looking rocks. These rocks were the most boring rocks in the entire country. Were it not for our guide and the feelings drawing me to the spot, we’d have passed over it without stopping.

We had to deal with a lot of labor issues after we set up and began clearing the sand away. The deeper we dug, the more workers we had pack up their things and desert in the night. We had to keep raising their wages to make some of them stay, and even then, toward the end so many had run off that the professors were needed to join in with the grunt work as well. Productivity also wasn’t help by the fact that whenever I went over to check on the progress of the dig, several of the workers would slow down the pace so they could stare at me. A snarl would get them back on task, but as soon as I turned my back, they’d be staring again.

Finally, we found the tomb. One of the diggers hit something solid, and as we moved sand away, we unearthed smooth black stone.

“It doesn’t look like any rock which can be found in this area….” One of the professors said, before placing his hand on it. He instantly pulled the hand away, holding it in pain.

Richard laughed. “Careful there! Black stone, in the middle of the desert at the height of the day? It’s probably scorching to touch!”

The professor shook his head. “No, it’s… cool. Freezing cold.”

He was right. Touching that stone felt like touching ice.

We spend the rest of the day and the next uncovering it. It was a small pyramid, made entirely of that black stone. On what I’m assuming was the front, was a door twice the size of anyone at our camp, covered in symbols. Tried figuring out what they meant, but each time I looked at the door, the symbols seemed to change, shifting shape between every blink.

The workers who had been closest to the door when the last of the sand was moved away suddenly dropped their tools, screamed in terror, and ran off into the desert before anyone could stop them.

“Superstitious savages!” The mustached professor said while we sent others to retrieve the runaways. “It’s just a door.” He walked toward it, but when he was five feet away from the entrance, collapsed to the ground, frothing at the mouth, and had to be dragged away.

“Everyone stay the hell back!” I shouted, which all seemed eager to comply with. I walked toward the door, and as I got close, I felt a pressure pushing down on my head. Buzzing in my ears, twinges of pain running up and down my body, everything in me screaming that something was WRONG, and I had to get as far away from this place as I could. Kept walking forward. The intensity increased, with flashes going through my mind, not long enough for me to know what they were flashes of, only for my mind to feel the horrible, primal terror coming from them. Ignored it, kept walking forward, until I was standing right in front of the door. I placed my hand on the door, and with a rumble that shook the whole building, the door slid away.

“Wait!” Richard was walking forward. “You’re not planning to go in there alone, are you?” He stopped before he could reach me, clutching his head and convulsing, until he too was dragged away from the door, and calmed down.

“Yes. I am. Don’t worry; I’ll be fine.” I looked into the pitch darkness that was behind the door, and then back to Richard. “It’s probably for the best that you don’t tell anyone what you found here.” Then I stepped across the threshold, and the door slid shut behind me.

The darkness only lasted a moment before it was replaced by a dim, sickly green glow that came from gemstones embedded on the ceiling. Images had been carved into the walls, most showing humans in various states of torture or being devoured by indescribable monsters.

A huge set of stairs leading further in was before me, so I started walking down them. Can’t say how far down they went, except that it was really, really fucking far down. More images were carved onto the stairway’s walls, becoming increasingly elaborate in their depiction of the grotesque violence the deeper I got. At the bottom, it opened into a cavernous room. Black pillars, lit by the green jewels along their sides, went up toward a ceiling too high for me to see. More gems, glowing with every color imaginable, outlined a path leading to the center of the room where, raised atop a golden platform, was a solid black throne. And across that throne, cleaving it into two, was a crack made of nothing.

The feeling of being called was stronger in this room than anywhere else. When I moved, my body was not acting on my volition, but obeying this outside impulse. I walked up to the throne, and pulled back my left sleeve, showing the stump where my arm had been. I reached toward the crack with the stump, and when I reached the point where my arm, were it still there, would have passed through the crack, I felt a tingle run through my entire body.

Then shadows poured out of the crack and lunged at me. I screamed in surprise and tried jumping away, but they wrapped around my stump. And I saw… things. Everything. More than I could imagine flooded through my brain, knowledge beyond anything else, too much knowledge, more than my mind could take….

I saw a pharaoh, sitting on the black throne, majestic beyond all human reason. But then I wasn’t seeing the pharaoh, I was the pharaoh. Emissary of the gods, master of all that walked on Earth and through Dreams. My legions of worshippers bowed before me, the humans and the Great Old Ones alike, all in awe of the mandate I carried. Through my halls my Master’s music played, the pipes and the drums which were the heartbeat of the universe. My glory should have been eternal, my power lasting without end.

Then the faceless monster appeared, the monster which sought to supplant the gods, and I could feel my palace’s pillars crumble, my worshippers flee, my Master’s music was drowned in silence until all that remained was that terrible face without a face, consuming my every thought, pursuing me no matter where I fled, always hunting, never relenting, always there….

I forced my mind back to reality, thrusting the images away. The shadows were wrapped around my arm, trying to spread further. They’d already grown beyond the stump, and were starting to cover my elbow. I grabbed at them with my hand, trying to hold them back, mentally fighting off all the knowledge that was trying to flow into my head, pushing it away, locking it someplace deep in my mind.

I fought for control, until, gradually, the shadows slowed their movements, and settled into the shape of an arm. From my left elbow down, my arm was made of those shadows. The strain of the struggle had taken too much out of me, and I fell unconscious in that tomb.

Don’t know how much longer it was, but I woke up to the feeling of a liquid dripping on my face. Got up and looked around; everything looked the same, but I could feel something wrong with the place…. Another drop hit my face, and I brushed at it with my fingers to see what it was. Blood.

Looked up, and saw black plant roots spreading down a pillar I’d fallen by. Thin rivulets of blood were dripping from the roots, collecting in puddles at the pillar’s foot. Heard a rustling sound from behind the throne, and when I looked over there, I saw black branches reaching out from the shadows, growing toward me.

Ran like hell out of there. Why did the stairs feel longer going up? Didn’t bother looking back as I ran up them. Looking back tends to be a really, really bad idea.

Well… didn’t look back until I felt something new appearing behind me. Stopped and turned around, and I saw… power cords? Lying on the stairs behind me were several cords and cables. Inside an ancient Egyptian tomb…. The cords suddenly began to move, violently lashing at me. I raised my arms to defend myself, and they tore right through my shadow arm. Before I could react to the injury, the shadows reformed, healing the arm in moments.

There was a huge distortion in spacetime, and I found myself not looking down into the tomb, but at… someplace else. I saw metal, circuits, and smog, with the sound of hammers ringing to industrial rhythm behind it. And above it all was a tower of immense height, growing ever higher, impossibly immeasurably high, reaching into space….

Something was coming out of the tower, heading toward me. Took that as a sign to start running again. Up the stairs, fast as I could…not fast enough. I felt it gaining on me. Looked back, and I saw… I don’t know how to describe it. It was a beast of blood and steel, clockwork and bone, existing simultaneously in this universe but also trapped in the world of the tower…. And whatever it was, it was faster than me. Time to stand and fight. Spun around and swung a left hook at the thing. Shadow connected with metal, and I could feel reality screaming under the weight of the collision. The steel gave way, and the beast shattered. Ha! Take that, whatever you were!

Except that wasn’t the end. The beast was gone, and I no longer saw the tower. Instead, I could see down the stairway, where the Slender Man was slowly walking toward me, the bleeding black roots spreading behind it. As it passed under them, the glowing jewels would flicker and lose their light. It took another step closer, and I heard the ghosts of a thousand screams echoing through the tomb.

Back to running. Finally reached the top of the stairs, and ran to the door. The door that was sealed shut. Shit. How’d I get it open in the first place? I had put my hand on it, and then it slid away….

Well that wasn’t working this time. I could hear the sound of roots breaking through the stone floor, and feel the blood pooling at my feet… time for drastic measures.

Praying it would work, I swung my left fist at the door. And that fist smashed through the stone, bringing the door down.

Jumped right through the opening I’d made, out of the Tomb. No sign of the archeology camp out there… how long was I unconscious there? Looked behind me, and it didn’t seem like anything was following me out. Good. Now I just needed to-

Time changed. It wasn’t a distortion; I’ve felt those before. They’re just moments where the timelines get even more knotty and weird than usual. This was different. The timelines are usually arranged in an almost artistic chaos, constantly shifting and turning. Here… they straightened. The timelines all locked into straight lines, the only curves precise right angles, all of them falling into an exact pattern. It was… the most painful experience I have ever had.

Then the tower which I had seen before appeared once again. But this time, it wasn’t some distant vision. It was in front of me, in the real world, rising above the tomb. God, it… I don’t even fucking know. All the wrongness in time was centered around it. Glancing at it for even a moment made me vomit. A regular human may have been able to look at that tower, but I… fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

The Slender Man was standing at the base of the tower, its head cocked to the side as if the bastard was curiously regarding me. Then, something happened with the tower, and it… disassembled the Tomb. Don’t ask me how. I saw the Tomb ripped apart, brick by brick, and added to the tower’s structure. Once the Tomb had been completely assimilated, the Slender Man and the tower vanished, and time returned to normal.

I have no idea what happened back there. But I do know that this arm… this thing that’s attached itself to me… there’s power coursing through it. Power I’m not sure I understand. But if I can do the same things with this as what Future Bitch did with hers, then… then maybe I do have a chance to save Lisa.

Its appearance is monstrous. But I’m fine with that. This arm is a symbol of my resolve. If I need to become a monster, then I will do so gladly.

I’ve gotten myself a new suit, and a new trench coat. (Sorry David, but your costuming department’s going to need to make you another replacement.) Loaded up on ammunition. Restocked my safehouses.

Let’s do this.

I-330

February 15, 1923 - Valley of the Kings, Egypt

580

Jumping to the 21^st century to give an update on my progress. Soon as I get this online, I’m heading back to the 1920s.

This would be my second time in Egypt. Though I’m not sure the first time counts, as I didn’t really have time to do much sightseeing. Trying to prevent the imminent apocalypse really distracts you something awful.

Even ignoring the lack of explosions, hordes of monsters, and flower themed gods that can cut you with their mind that took up most of the scenery on my last visit, something about the place felt… different. Weird. I did a lot of research before arriving about Richard Walsh’s dig, mostly so I could go right to it when I got to the time period, but now I’m not sure I needed to. The minute I set foot in the city of Luxor, I knew where I had to go. Something was calling me there, something I felt inside myself. Doing anything but following that call was out of the question.

From Luxor, I traveled to the Theban Necropolis. Richard’s dig site was located in the Valley of the Kings; with the discovery of King Tut’s tomb being recent at this time, Miskatonic University was scrambling to try and get in on the uncovering lost tombs action. Because if there’s one thing Miskatonic University loves, it’s discovering ridiculously old and powerful artifacts. Seriously, that place is like a magnet for world ending tools from eons in the past.

Didn’t take long to find their camp once I entered the Valley. Hired local help was doing digging stuff or something near it, I wasn’t paying attention. My path took me straight to the large white tent where the university staff was looking over dug up pottery, or whatever it is archeology people do for fun.

Saw Richard sitting by a map of the area, surrounded by others from Miskatonic. They all seemed far more interested in whatever story he was telling than the contents of said map. It took a few moments for me to get used to seeing him looking so young; had I not seen pictures of him at this age, it might have taken me a while to recognize him.

Richard stood up when he saw me enter. “Hello there, ma’am.” If he’d had a hat, I expect he’d have tipped it. “It’s not often we get visitors out here. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“You’re searching for the Tomb of the Gods mentioned in Abdul Alhazred’s Necronomicon?”

The directness of the question appeared to surprise him, and his response was a stuttered yes.

I walked over to the map, took out a knife, and stabbed it down (I generally find it’s smart to make a good first impression when visiting times prior to Second Wave Feminism.) “You’re twenty miles too far north.”

Wait what was that I just said the reports I read on the expedition never said anything about the actual location of the tomb where did I get that number from.

“Excuse me?” Okay good I’m not the only one confused.

“Alhazred described the Tomb being located within a valley, but it’s not the Valley of the Kings. The tomb you’re looking for predates the Theban Necropolis by a significant margin. This necropolis was built near the location of the original tomb, but not in the original valley.” I have no idea where these words were coming from. I don’t remember thinking them. Hell, I don’t know how I knew any of what I was telling him. It all just came out of my mouth without any input on my part.

He glanced at the map. “But there are no valleys where you’re saying we should go!”

“Not currently. The geography’s changed significantly since the fall of the Tomb. The man you hired as a guide should know the actual location.” What guide? What the hell was I talking about?

“But our guide was the one who led us here!”

“He lied.”

The rest of the university staff seemed to be getting a bit pissed at being ignored, and one of them stepped forward. His attempt at anger was only made comedic by the ridiculous moustache he was sporting. “Now see here miss, who do you think you are, just coming in here and acting like you’re in charge?”

“My name’s I-330. Perhaps you’ve seen me on your university’s donor list.” There we go, that got a reaction. “Given the number of zeroes there were in the last check I gave to Miskatonic, I would say yes. I am in charge. Now call your guide in, I need to talk to him.”

The man with the moustache rushed out of the tent, likely hoping to avoid further embarrassment. Glanced over at Richard, who’s frustration had left him very quickly. He was looking at me with a smile and one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity. “You know,” he said, “I’ve come across the name I-330 several times before, and not just in our school’s financial records. You’ve appeared in quite a number of historical records.”

“Yeah, well I travel around a lot.”

“Apparently so. I must say, you look remarkably well for a woman over two hundred years old.”

“I moisturize.”

He laughed at that, and held out his hand. “Richard Walsh. It’s a pleasure to meet you face to face.”

We shook hands right as the mustached guy was coming in, leading an Egyptian man. “What do you need from me, sirs?” The Egyptian said.

I looked at him, and I said… actually I have no idea what I said. Whatever language I was speaking in, I don’t recognize. It wasn’t Arabic; I know Arabic, and this sounded nothing like that. It sounded nothing like any language I’d heard before. The only place I remember hearing anything like it is in my dreams….

The guide turned pale when he heard me speak. He seemed to be the only one in the tent who understood what I was saying, as everyone else just looked confused. Soon as I’d finished, he ran over to the map, and made a very theatrical gasp. “Mr. Walsh!” His nervousness was causing his English to become heavily accented. “I have made a terrible error! The Tomb is much further south of where we are! I apologize most strongly! I shall tell the workers to prepare to move immediately!” He rushed out of the tent, glancing back once to look at me.

“How… how did you do that?” Richard said.

“Would you believe me if I said I have no idea?”

“No.”

“Well then your honesty is appreciated. Come on, you guys need to get packed up. I’d prefer if we got to the Tomb sooner rather than later.”

I-330