Sometimes I truly wonder, with all that I have witnessed, with all the things that I know lurk beneath the gentle exteriors of the world we think we live in, if I am truly mad, or if it is everyone else who suffers and it is only I and those like me who are free?
I am fast on the path to delving once again into the unknowable. I have a black Morchem candle and I’ve recently procured Miralin Oil, a foul substance with a vileness difficult to describe. I have also located an iron fetish, though at some cost, and should have access to it soon. I have been studying the incantation for banishing the hungim and I believe it is truth – I can feel the power vibrating from the words as I study them. These are old words, to be sure. I hope they will do what I need them to, with a minimum of negative consequence.
An then there is the mundane world, the ‘normal’ that so many see. I followed the whim of the autumn breezes yesterday, through the East Side, along paths long-worn by society, but I could feel their deeper origins. The streets and paths may have been carved by man, but I see the truth of them, see how they were built upon the older walking paths, and before them the animal pathways… but before those? What forces caused the animals to follow these paths or to avoid others? These are ancient forces, primal energies that our ancestors understood. They built shrines and altars to them and lit fires in the night to keep the shadows away.
I was walking down one of these modern pathways when I heard a sound all to familiar to me, that buzzing, discordant piping. I froze and looked around the street, knowing that something was there. I saw it, the ‘thing’; it was hovering, a darker slice of shadow moving slowly on the other side of the street. It was only a few feet from a smartly dressed woman talking on her mobile phone and a teen carrying a guitar case. I watched the shade, it’s shape shifting in bizarre ways as it moved, and I felt a deep terror for those people near it. It took me a few minutes to realize that this fear was something different – I feared for them because they were so clearly oblivious to the thing so near to them, the dark malevolence that hovered beside them. How could they not feel it? How could they not be aware of the thing so near them? How could they not see the cracks in the world where mundane reality falls away, showing the darkness beneath?
I wanted to scream out, I wanted to call out to them and tell them about the thing that was there beside them, to tell them that the world is not what they believe and that the Providence that they know is just a thin veneer over a much older place inhabited by things they dare not imagine. I wanted to run up to them and shake them and tell them to open their eyes, to be aware, to understand…. I’ve learned my lesson though. I know better than to do such things any more.