I’m really emotional today – this find is probably the hardest yet, even harder than my grandfather’s commitment papers. I found a letter – well, parts of a letter – from my great-grandfather Wilfred to my grandfather Joseph. I’m pretty sure it’s the last communication they every shared. It’s incredibly sobering, in the middle of all these bizarre happenings, to get a solemn reminder that I’m delving into my very real family history, and that my Grandpa Joe lost his father when he was so young – not even twenty, I think. I know my great-grandfather died young – this sheds a terrifying new light on that long-known family history. This letter – what there is of it – just hit me like a ton of bricks.
I’m not sure if there have been more escalations at home. I wasn’t home most of the weekend, truth be told. I used every excuse I could to keep us out of the house, and Wendy gladly accommodated my whims – going out for breakfast, shopping, movies… I believe whatever is going on, she is definitely experiencing something… something she’s not ready or able to deal with.
There is a genuine feeling of ‘otherworldlyness’ in the house that I can definitely feel when I return after being gone for a while, but soon after I get back it just seems to fade away – or I get used to it, which is even scarier.
Sleep has been off and on; the dreams don’t seem as intense lately, but somehow they’re more disturbing now, more personal, with horrible details creeping in that are impossible to describe clearly or rationally. My search for answers keeps getting sidetracked, I keep finding really vague references to things that go nowhere, hitting complete dead ends. I spent time researching the Thule society, because when you search for ‘occult’ and ‘Germany’ that seems to be top of the list, but it was obvious that the pieces didn’t really fit. It’s frustrating – there are so many references to occult societies like Golden Dawn and Theosophical society, but I can’t find any references to the ‘Liber Ivonis’ or old swords or anything like that. I did find a bizarre and half-unintelligible reference to the ‘Powder of Ibn Ghazi’, which was referenced in one of grandfathers’ letters. As best as I could understand, it is apparently a ‘powerful mystical powder that reveals the unseen’ and is capable of ‘necromantic materialization’, whatever the hell that means. Continue reading
I slept pretty well last night, no crazy dreams, I even got to sleep in, which was nice. Wendy is out, so I’m home alone (of course). I was watching TV in the living room – this is broad daylight, late morning, with the autumn sun streaming in – when the kitchen cabinets just opened on their own. I mean, I watched them open, all by themselves. Slowly, both the left and right cabinet doors opened at the same time. There was even a low creak from the hinges. I WATCHED it happen. These are heavy oak cabinets, and they do NOT just ‘open on their own. I grabbed my video camera to document it, because that’s just my reaction now, apparently. Here’s what I got:
I slept last night. Slept a deep, uninterrupted sleep I haven’t had in, I don’t know, weeks? It seems even longer. For the last weeks or months I do go to bed every night, and I do sleep, but most often I only sleep an hour here, two hours there, so a full eight and a half hours? I feel amazing. I felt amazing, anyway.
I don’t recall any dreams last night. Wait, that’s not true – I dreamed I was whitewater rafting, I can remember that. Nothing weird, though – none of THOSE dreams. I woke up to slate grey clouds and Wendy sleeping next to me, and I’ll admit, I could have cried I was so happy, I felt so refreshed. I had breakfast, was able to taste my coffee, I didn’t feel like a zombie as I was getting ready for work. That might not sound like much, but after weeks of this insanity, it’s hard to put into words how great it felt. For a short, painfully short time, I forgot about this damned ‘family legacy’. Obviously that couldn’t last.
I still haven’t slept much since the last dreams, sometimes it’s hard to even close my eyes. The sleeping pill was such a bad idea. The things I saw, that terrible void, I’m seeing more glimpses, remembering smells, sensations… I remembered something tonight, it came to me like a sickening flash.
I remembered the smell first, that horrible smell of fetid, rotting meat, and then I saw the gate, that nightmare portal with it’s mad, swirling worlds beyond it. I recalled a new detail, though, a new part of the picture that I saw in my dreams but didn’t immediately recall. I’ve tried to draw it as closely as I could recall. As soon as I remembered it, I knew it was an important piece of the puzzle.
I have heard the screaming and chanting sounds that fill the air in that nightmare dreamscape, but other than the soldier I’ve never seen another person. This time, in my deep, sleeping pill induced dreams, I saw four shadowy figures around the gate, kneeling before it in some kind of bizarre twisted worship. They revered it, and they were chanting. I still can’t understand what they are saying, but it’s somehow familiar.
The reason I believe this dream fragment is important is because there are four figures, just like there were four men in Germany during World War I – my great-grandfather, Roberts, Arthur, and Andrew. Something happened back there in Germany, and I know that’s the key to all of this, I just have to keep searching for what that is, to understand what happened.
I know it’s probably the lack of sleep, but I’ve started to imagine things, fusing together pieces of real life and I dream, and I’m starting believe that these men found something there in Germany, something old and, supernatural. Something evil. A ghost or demon or something worse, I don’t know. Something insane. That’s what it all is. Insane.
First – I’ve barely slept since… the dreams, the sleeping pill. I’m not sure, I might have given myself insomnia, if that’s even possible. I keep seeing glimpses, too – like forgotten fragments of memory trying to worm their way back into my consciousness. I won’t let them. I can’t let them. I don’t want to know.
I found another letter in the steamer trunk – this one was to my Grandpa Joe. It’s dated November, 1959, and it’s hard to read – it’s handwritten and the writing is tiny, from a small feminine hand.
The letter is from Adelle Roberts, apparently the daughter of Kevin Roberts, my great-grandfather’s army buddy. From what I can read, it sounds like my grandfather asked for – and received – that bizarre sword that Roberts brought back from Germany, so now at least I understand how it came to be in his possession, and subsequently, mine. Continue reading