Winter in Providence was always a special time of year for me, ever since I was young. I loved waking up to a blanket of white snow covering everything, sparkling in the morning sunlight. Everything seemed clean and fresh and new, like a fresh start. This winter is different, though – like everything is different now. It’s darker, the snow seems more grey than white, and the trees have taken on an ominous, sinister look – I keep expecting to see something or hear something that shouldn’t be there, something hiding just under the surface.
I got a package in the mail today from William – the book he’s been talking about. Well – in this case, ‘book’ might be too strong a word. It has covers and pages, and there are things written on the pages, so strictly speaking it is technically a book, yes, but it is old and really brittle I ‘m afraid to open it, never mind read it. It looks like someone tried to burn it, too, which is always a comfort. William said this was the book that Grandpa Joe used to break the link to Yog-Sothoth, back in the 1950s or 60s, though William doesn’t know any more than that.
The book seems to be called ‘Liber Sacramentis Extra Portam’ and it appears to be in Latin – well, I see some Latin and a bunch of symbols and some other stuff that makes no sense at all, but I can understand the Latin – well, I can Google translate some of the Latin. The title means something like ‘The book of sacraments beyond the gate’, and as soon as I saw the word ‘Gate’ I got excited. It doesn’t take much these days.
I’m still tracking down some items I need for the first spell, and then I’ll start figuring out this next part, looking through the book. Me and Google Translate and a big fat notebook… that will be thrilling, I really can’t wait.
There’s a song lyric that keeps popping into my head lately, sometimes multiple times a day. “Just because you’re paranoid don’t mean they’re not after you.” I recognize that this is especially relevant to my situation, where there is an always-present sense of paranoia and dread that the slightest creak of the floor or shadowy movement, innocuous open cabinet or clank of the heating system, is some sign of the supernatural. I can honestly say that when I close my eyes now and hear a sound that should be totally normal in my 100+ year old house, my mind can’t help but conjure up images of black winged terrors, ancient ghostly figures, and cosmic horrors hovering just outside the reality that we all know and understand. Continue reading
I was paid a surprise visit from one of my relatives today – it seems this blog has been making the rounds with certain family members as well as strangers. I promised I would not reveal exactly who visited, since the information they revealed is of the serious ‘skeletons in the closet’ type and I would not want to cause any family issues. Some may be able to guess who, but I can say that if you are thinking the ‘obvious choice’ you are wrong – it was not him.
This person revealed not only an old, dark family secret, but they also had photographic evidence; a picture, battered with age, that is simply incredible and, based on its apparent age and the context with which I received it, completely authentic.
The story started in the late 1940s and I’m assuming it has to do with my Great-Grandfather and my Grandpa Joseph and the legacy of Yog-Sothoth. My great-aunt Vivian went missing for a week – she disappeared right out of her bedroom on midsummer’s night, as the story goes. The police were called, they searched half the town – it was a pretty big deal, from what I was told. The funny thing is that I hadn’t even heard that story yet – I guess the family felt it wasn’t ‘appropriate conversation’ and nobody from my father’s or grandfather’s generation ever spoke of it. But apparently it was after her disappearance when things got really weird – things happened that few people know the truth of.
One morning, a week after she disappeared, Aunt Vivian woke up in her bed as if nothing had happened. She said she wasn’t aware that she had left her house, or that any more than a single night had elapsed since she went to sleep. She recounted a vivid, bizarre dream where she was pulled through a corner of her room and visited strange worlds. She said she remembered strange, unearthly sounds, and saw colors that weren’t part of any spectrum she recognized. She recalled strange figures that she couldn’t properly describe, as well – nothing that resembled human, though, from what my relative remembered of the story.
After that, Aunt Vivian wasn’t ‘quite right’ as they say in polite circles. She remembered her vivid ‘dreams’ and would speak of them – sometimes she would say strange things out of the blue, tell complete strangers details about strange creatures, or speak in unknowable languages. She was institutionalized for a while – that seems to run in the family – and at some point someone in the family believed that she was ‘demonically possessed’. That brings us to the above photograph.
Some time in 1953, Aunt Vivian had a particularly bad episode and a priest was brought in for a blessing – not even a full exorcism, according to my relative, just a ‘simple blessing’. Vivian reacted with hysterical laughter at first, and then started telling the priest that his god was ‘a mere fairy tale’ and that if he ever looked into the face of the TRUE gods of the cosmos, he would weep in glorious horror.
Vivian was laid on the bed and the family and priest all held hands and started praying over her and she started a hideous, discordant humming. As they prayed louder, she hummed louder, and it kept going for a while – my relative wasn’t sure how long. It was then, according to my relative, that Vivian floated – levitated – about a foot over the bed, humming that sickening sound. The family members present and the priest kind of freaked out, to say the least. My relative wasn’t sure who took this photo, and I promised not to say how my relative got their hands on it – it was supposedly destroyed.
After that incident, apparently Aunt Vivian never spoke of strange worlds or ancient, terrible gods again. Whether she forgot or she just knew better than to talk about it I have no idea, but she finally passed away in the late 1960s after an otherwise normal and unremarkable life. Nobody ever spoke of her ‘episodes’ – it was relegated to deep, dark family history.
A history I am now a part of.
We’re in the middle of a pretty major winter storm, the wind is really howling and driving the snow in swirling icy funnels, and we’re stuck in the house for the foreseeable future – at least until tomorrow afternoon by the current forecast. As much as the storm rages outside, though, there is also a tangible unease in the house, a negativity that has been creeping back in over the last few days, growing out of the darkest corners of the house. Continue reading
Winter weather in Providence can be weird. It can be bitter cold one day, then almost warm the next. Or bright and sunny in the morning and then torrential downpours in the afternoon – I hate that. Today was really foggy, because of the seasonal temperature fluctuations, and the grey swirling mists and slate grey sky seem to have a life of their own. I can’t help but see sinister figures in the swirls and shifts of the fog, my sleep-deprived and terror-wrought mind insisting that every shadowy blotch or roughly circular patch is some malevolent being come to drive me into madness. I actually dropped my coffee, right outside the Dunkin Donuts, because I saw a figure in the mist that I was certain was walking towards me. I’m definitely losing it. My mind, I mean.
I woke up a little before seven and headed downstairs to make coffee, and every drawer and cabinet in the entire downstairs was wide open. Obviously this wasn’t how we left them last night, so something happened during the night. I filmed a bit, to record the event, and as I was about to turn off the camera, well… something even stranger happened.
I am definitely not letting Wendy know about this one – she’s been freaked out enough lately…