I Work at an Asylum, We have a Secret Inmate in the Attic | Scary Stories from The Internet

[Music] must you have battle in your heart forever the bloody toil of combat old Contender will you not yield to the immortal Gods this nightmare cannot die being Eternal evil itself the horror pain and Chaos there is no fighting it no power can fight it all that avails is flight The Odyssey dear James I write to inform you that your persistent inquiries into the Byron house incident have finally warn away the last threads of reticence I may have developed regarding its open discussion I have warned you more than enough in my various replies over the

past few years but if you still desire to know the truth of what happened at that accursed house on that accursed night read on I urge you not to do so however some things are best left buried in the past or in this case buried beneath the charred rubble and crumbled stones of That Hideous edifice I do not write this letter easily even now the events surrounding that night create a panic that causes a cold dread to creep across my skin to even briefly recall what I saw on that night And the measures I took

to end it and causes my mind to unravel in Terror at what vague hores may still lurk beneath the bricks and mortar of of that terrible Place although my account is undoubtedly localized in its scope it hints at a much larger Gathering of nightmarish forces at work in the hidden shallowed corners of the earth and Beyond the lurking unknown that layers in the twisting vistas of the deepest Cosmic spheres and the lightless chasms of the unnamable Blackness of the outside I have long since burned all my diary entries detailing Byron house and my subsequent correspondence

with the occultists pseudo scientists and Fringe Scholars from across the globe All That Remains is the very letter you now hold in your hands because I have destroyed all written record of what happened at the house I am relying purely upon my memory to recount the shadowed details the horrid truth is that I have forgotten much of it and what remains feels like little more than the fevered hallucinations of an over sensitive and morbid imagination it may be for the best that I struggle to remember the exact facts of the matter a blessing for both

of Us in fact I will now detail for you the horrible chain of events that led me to soak the attic room of Byron house and gasoline and burn the building down to Cinders free of all its occupants save one you may recall that I always held an interest in the afflictions of the mind and The Morbid fascination with those poor souls with which such illness hold enthralled well in my younger years before I became a doctor and was still very much under subjugation of academic studies I took on the role of an orderly at

Byron house for me then the job was more than a way to pay my University fees but a way for me to get close to that Unseen World of lunacy and Madness Byron house had once been a home for the elderly but was closed for unknown circumstances only to be bought and opened privately by one Dr Samuel Monroe as a home for the mentally ill I knew the house long before I ever worked there everyone in Barton did I think in my childhood it served perfectly as the quintessential haunted house for me and my small

codoy of friends whereas they looked upon the building as a means of acquiring a cheap thrill calling the staff and residents names before Running away I looked upon it with a chilling but irresistible dread a even the maob held me in its grip of Fascination it wasn't wraiths Bound in Chains or moaning specters that captivated my imagination no Byron's Phantoms were Bound in the crippled gray flesh of those elderly inhabitants I would watch them shambling around its Gardens waiting perhaps even hoping for death to swoop down and take them I sat for hours motionless behind

a hedge and watched their frail brittle bodies wander around the wide Lawns seemingly unaware of the mor abund of their surroundings I made a vow to myself one day that I would never allow old age to take me I was determined that I would die relatively young and energetic better to go suddenly in those throws of Youth then slowly rot away within the walls of a tomb like Byron house time has passed however and I have failed to keep my vow many times I have considered taking my own life but something has always pulled me

back back from the precipice of saturan thoughts I started my job as a fresh-faced naive youth eager to learn all I could from some honest hands-on experience there were 12 inmates at the House each laboring under a complex cocktail of mental disturbances and psychosis the inmates were overseen and cared for by eight staff members of various rank at the very top there was Dr Monroe while at the bottom there were the orderlies like me the conditions of the inmates ranged drastically from his hysteria to monomania and psychopathy to feeble-mindedness and retardation my fellow workers were

likewise a mixed bag one that really stood out was Williams an ape of a man whose large frame was well suited to restraining rampaging inmates as well as beating them on occasion if the rumors about him were true another standout was Jane a well-mannered but somewhat jaded divorce approaching 50 Jane was part of the government's new nurse training program and she was always on hand to offer advice regarding administering medication but there was no warmth in her towards the inmates and I often wondered why she chose this kind of career for herself then there was

Dr Monroe a distant and Stern figure I got the impression that he in some way resented his position at the house and he was rarely seen outside of his office in addition to those three There were several new starters some students like me and some more local strong arms who were only good for lifting and caring uncooperative inmates I regret that I cannot remember any more names or faces despite the impact it has had upon my life my time at Byron house was mercifully brief now I said there were 12 inmates and at first that

is what I thought when I started my job I quickly learned through staff gossip and whispered hearsay however that a 13th inmate was being treated at the house a rare and special inmate whose condition was so extreme that it demanded con Specialized Care from Dr Monroe personally I eventually learned that this inmate's name was Jonathan Spencer he was ominously nicknamed 13 by the staff and he resided at the very top of the house in the attic space which had been specifically renovated to accommodate him unlike the other inmates who are permitted to occasionally visit their

families 13 never left the house he never even left his attic room and all the staff except for Dr Monroe were forbidden from going to the top floor of the house Jane once told me a story about a younger woman who Had come to work in the house several years ago as a porter she had been working the graveyard shift and Monroe was away on a rare occasion hosting a lecture at Manchester University leaving her on her own she had heard 13 banging around upstairs and despite being told to never visit the top floor she

decided to go up to the attic and make sure everything was okay upon investigating she had run screaming from the house into the night never to return after that time Monroe became even more paranoid about exposing Spencer to the rest of the staff and would often sleep over at the house in his office to ensure that a similar incident did not occur although she didn't like Monroe Jane was happy that the Grim Man spent most of his time at the house it meant that she didn't have to deal with 13 in any way as far

as she knew Spencer had always lived in the Attic even before she came to work there which had been a great deal longer than she cared to admit Williams didn't have much to say on the matter he seemed to think that 13's condition was more physical than mental that it was his body that was deformed rather than his Mind even though the man was large and not afraid of any other inmates he grew nervous when working the top floors of the house Monro was quick to inflict Williams upon unruly inmates but as much of a

Lackey as he was he was not permitted near the attic between myself and the other orderlies 13 was a source of constant gossip none of us had ever seen or heard from him and apart from that One Singular horrifying moment in time that I endured none of us would ever see him either my own curiosity regarding the attic and its occupant grew by the day but Monroe was protective fanatically so when it came to Spencer's care despite volunteering to help the doctor would just brush aside my inquisitiveness with an annoyed wave of his hand as

fate would have it I was permitted an entrance into that insane Dark World where few among mankind have dread and it happened sooner than I thought it would it was December and I had been working at the home for a little under 2 months when Jane came into the staff room one morning with a cup of coffee a pack of cigarettes and a look of pure vexation on her Ashen face I had never noticed that she smoked Before that day but she had been in the room no longer than a few seconds before she had

lit up a slender white stick and slumped down in the chair opposite me she didn't talk to me straight away or even look at me she just sat down almost as if in shock and drank from her coffee cup and took the occasional long pull from her cigarette I tried several times to ignore her and go back to reading an article that had caught my interest but my gaze was always drawn back to her wide unblinking eyes Okay i' said folding the paper and slapping it down on the chair next to me what is it

what's wrong I had developed a casual friendship with Jane despite her being my senior and we often talked in a direct non-nonsense manner she finished her cigarette and immediately lit another before answering my questions I was on shift last night I was working in the graveyard I'm having to cover for a staff absence oh uh who's Monroe he's got a virus and can't risk passing it on to any of the inmates especially she paused for a few seconds 13 she didn't say anything she just nodded slowly I didn't question anymore as I could tell that

whatever ordeal she had gone through The previous night she wasn't keen on elaborating further I sat for a few minutes and pondered this was my chance I thought I had been curious about 13 for a while and I had hoped to get involved in his care with Monroe away and off sick a window of opportunity had opened up before me so I said startling Jane out of her thoughts I take it you're having to work tonight too she grimly nodded with a sense of total defeat well I could work it instead I don't mind I

even asked Monroe a couple of times if I could assist with 13 you see I'm writing a paper for college at the moment and she cut me off and stood up out of a chair really you wouldn't mind really of course although Monroe probably asked you to cover as you're the most senior member of Staff I'm not sure if he would be pleased if he had found out we swapped shifts she thought for a moment before replying well I won't tell him if you don't I can pay you directly from my pay packet no need

to change the Roa I nodded in agree ment it's settled then you finish here early and I'll stay on to work the night shift I may need to quickly go home and grab some clothes but it won't take long I live quite Close the relief that washed across her face was at once Pleasant to see yet also concerning for I knew that should I go through with my offer a good night's sleep would not be on the cards she perked up considerably and continued to work for the rest of the day planning to leave a

little before 7:00 p.m. she was good enough to provide me with a list of chores would need for the night shift and I spent the rest of the day working my usual rounds I don't think the impact of what I had offered to do had truly sunk in and I remember feeling more excited than anything else as the daylight hours gave way to the Dark of the December evening the rest of the staff left one by one not too long after Jane had departed and it was only then that the situation dawned on me William

shot me a cruel look on his way out that made me uneasy and left me to ponder if he knew more about what was in store for me than he had let on during his various digs and jibes made at me during the day shift I'd never worked the graveyard shift before others had of course and they had said that despite his unsociable nature the presence of Dr Monroe was always a reassuring one at least having a normal Person in the house with you was comforting with the added bonus that as a trained doctor he

could handle any situation that might arise from the Myriad possibilities available but as the night crept on and the inmates were safely restrained in their rooms I began to feel an oppressive cloak of loneliness wrap heavily around my shoulders at 9:00 I prepared medication and a light supper for Spencer the details of which Jane had written down for me along with instructions on how to offer them to him the meal consisted of nothing more than a plate of scrambled eggs and some fresh orange juice with a straw the medication too was simple some pain relief

nutritional supplements and allergy treatments there was nothing in the medication that would suggest a psychosis or mood stabilizing treatment was required for him whatever 13's disorder was I thought it was clear that it wasn't a mental ailment but something physical that could not be cured only treated I wondered how much time the Unlucky resident must have left if indeed he was suffering from a physical disease as I ascended the stairs with my tray in hand I paused momentarily at The landing on the third floor and listen for any sound coming from the other inmates after

a few seconds I'm satisfied that there was no disturbance I continued this was the closest I had been to the attic since I started my job and the thought of venturing upwards filled me with Dread I cleared my mind however and shook my doubts away as I headed for the final set of steps that would bring me to The Lonesome attic room the stairs from the third floor LED straight up and then curved slightly as they ascended upward into the left they grew narrow the higher I climbed but the ceiling appeared to lower and grow

cramped giving me a distinct feeling of being boxed in I stopped as the bend curved around more tightly and finally revealed the entrance to 13's room I was maybe 10 steps away from the looming wooden door it had been painted white some time ago but large chalky flakes had fallen away revealing the original Oaken surface beneath just as Jane had described a small flap had been crudely cut out of the bottom and nailed back on and it was just wide enough to slide the tray under the door seemed almost ethereal as it stood alone and

silent at The top of the staircase it was something that I had only heard of in hushed Whispers but now it stood before me in all its ho reality I had moved no more than a single step toward the door when I heard an excited movement coming from the other side I say movement but to be precise the exact sequence of noises that followed gave the impression of awful liquescent gesticulations first there came a soft thud as if something had dropped from a small height the noise was softly muted as if whatever had landed had

been cushioned by thick folds I thought at the time that this was probably attributed to something like Spencer rolling out of his bed whilst wrapped in thick blankets but there was a certain hinted wetness about the sound that baffled me secondly and more repulsively a low dragging sound followed by a labored breathing could be heard it grew louder the longer I stood but appeared to take a long time to get to the door it was as if whatever mass and inhabiting the room was closing in on my location with a deliberate ghoulish lethargy horror took

hold of my heart but the rationale in me demanded I maintain clear thinking in a burst Of what I could only describe as mad curiosity I ascended the stairs and sat the tray down at the bottom of the door then I pushed my body down flat against the stairs so that my head was level with a half in gap between the floor and the bottom of the door what greeted me on the other side will haunt me until the end of my days for looking back back at me was a set of bulbous bloodshot eyes

I don't remember running back down the stairs but I do remember going into the ground floor bathroom and vomiting a silly reaction you might think but there was something about those eyes that Disturbed me to my very core it may have been the odd spacing between them or the way they had seemed to roll around sluggishly and loose in their sockets for some reason I couldn't banish the thought of a toad or frog from my mind as if my brain was struggling to conjure up the most obvious terrestrial comparison to the alien eyes that had

glared back at me I spent the rest of my night shift in the staff room drinking coffee and waiting for the December sun to rise when it finally did so I packed up my things and waited for Jane and the other morning staff to relieve Me of my duty I said nothing to Jane as she approached me and asked how the night had gone I think I managed a weak smile in a dismissive it was fine before heardly leaving the premises and making my way home as Fortune would have it my week on shift came

to an end the very next day and I spent some free time in total seclusion at my apartment I slept a lot but did not feel refreshed I could not get those eyes out of my mind and they continued to haunt me for days afterwards with Relentless vivid dreams when I did return to work a few days later I confined myself to study my coursework in the staff room as much as I could no one bothered me as I sat in deep concentration over various books and papers despite the distraction I could not banish that

awful night from my mind Dr Monroe was still off with a virus so I assumed that the other staff had covered the night shifts during my week of respite nobody spoke of or reported any strange happenings or eventful encounters however despite my shock a morbid Fascination was creeping over me I felt I had seen something not only horrifying but also enlightening and my mind burned with a duality Of horror and curiosity my thoughts kept snapping back to those eyes what terrible Affliction could have caused such physical Madness of form if I could perhaps speak with

Spencer especially with Dr Monroe currently out of the picture maybe I could make the unfortunate patient the focus of my academic work at the very least I could find some rational and mundane reason that would explain what I had seen that night a few more days working my ordinary rounds and my mind was made up I approached Jane and stated clearly that walst Monroe was off ill I would like to personally take over her night shifts in the house this the same deal as before unsurprisingly she was eager to facilitate my request without protest my

neck shift began that very night and I pondered my renewed Focus as I prepared the medication and evening meal to take up to the attic again it was a simple setup some mashed potatoes and a Milky cup of tea with a straw I looked distastefully at the pan of steaming mush and wondered if 13 ever grew tired of the sloppy menu Dr Monroe had set down for him all the meals were clearly designed for someone with only the most rudimentary of Eating ability it was more like the kind of food you would feed to a

baby rather than a man it was all soft puddings mashed vegetables and liquid nourishment with a newly formed resolve I made my way back to the attic with my tray this time without pausing as I ascended that last set of stairs something did indeed greet me at the door it was not an object of Terror or disgust but rather an item that made me immediately question its validity as something that belonged to this exact time and place it was a small piece of plain paper a little crumpled and folded crudely several times and it was

sticking out from the Gap at the bottom of the door no sound came from within the room Beyond and I assumed that 13 must be sleeping I quietly slid my tray carefully through the flap as to avoid disturbing the occupant behind the door and collected the note and breakfast tray left behind by the morning staff before creeping quietly back down to the staff room I dared not read the note during the night just in case its contents caused a disturbance in my mind that would affect my ability to continue working I placed it into my

Satchel noticing a strange Glistening semi- wetness on its surface and tried to distract myself with some University work occasionally glancing over at the bag and resisting the temptation to read Spencer's note in the morning I did a quick Handover with the morning staff and sharply made my way back to my apartment normally I would go straight to bed and catch up on some sleep but instead I put on a large pot of coffee and prepared some toast taking my breakfast and note over to my study desk I opened the blinds to allow the struggling December

Morning Sun to break into the room and then sat down and slowly unfolded the paper now I would be lying if I was to say that the writing on the note was anything more than childish scrawling and at first I doubted there was anything of Worth to be gleaned from the spidery scribblings but after several minutes of study and copying words onto a fresh piece of paper I managed to decipher enough of the contents to read as I mentioned at the start of this account I have long since destroyed all written documentation of these events

but I can recall enough of the note to tell you what Spencer had written I apologize if I shocked you the other night or gave you a fright please don't feel guilty for finding my appearance shocking I've long since a grown accustomed to such reactions I can only assume the Dr Monroe for whatever reason is unavailable to look after my well-being and it is on that assumption that I have seized upon the chance to finally have contact with someone else I must apologize for my disgraceful and crude writing my condition makes matters of delicacy difficult

so please be patient I will not confuse you with the full knowledge of what is at work here nor my condition or cause of conf within this house I freely admit that I do not know exactly where I am or how much time has passed since I first came to be here but that isn't important anymore unless certain measures are taken care of I will not be long for this world and if that happens it can only mean Monroe has achieved his Grand aim understand this the man you know as Dr Samuel Monroe is not

whom he appears to be in our youth we were close friends the best of friends you could say and together we adventured and traveled among all the Forgotten corners and exotic places of the World the Orient the Congo and Arabia we explored the deepest jungles of the Indian subcontinent the ancient Sands of Egypt and the Forgotten ruins of the Americas my condition is somewhat linked to these travels but it is something far more Sinister than a mere tropical disease now I need to have two things from you if I may be so bold I realize

you are under no obligation to Aid me but know that if you do you will not only be doing me a service but also securing the future safety of all mankind firstly I need you to keep our correspondence a secret no one least of all Monroe must suspect we are in contact that man is wicked and will seek to do you harm should he discover you have been talking with me secondly I will need you to acquire some items that have been taken from me unfortunately I believe them to be in Monroe's possession I will

tell you more about these once I have received a reply from you only then can we move things forward I'm thankful to whatever Powers allowed our parents to cross and I look forward to hearing from you the note was fascinating I reread it several times as my coffee and toast lay forgotten amidst the dozens Of questions now burning through my mind I could not be certain that it was even meant for me but somehow I grew convinced it was the eloquence of the writing was in total contrast to the manner in which it was presented

but it clearly came from a vibrant and sharp mind as intelligent as the author may have been it was clear that Spencer was Disturbed in some way there was little doubt that the letter had cast a dark shadow over Dr Monroe's conduct just what sort of wickedness was Spencer implicating the doctor in true the man was unfriendly cold even and more than a little abrupt but would he really seek to cause me harm should he find out I was in contact with Spencer I simply could not give the idea Credence I was quite certain at

this point at least that the whole Affair regarding Spencer's dislike of Monroe was a delusion fantasy conjured up by Spencer in the isolation of his atct confinement after all was it not only nature for someone with a mental disturbance to project a demonic Persona upon those whom he saw as his Jailer fantasy or not I decided to follow the advice given to me and not alert Dr Monroe to my contact with Spencer if Only out of a desire to keep my job as opposed to any kind of fear of physical harm I wrote a reply

that morning and took it up to Spencer when I started my next night shift sufficed to say I had agreed to hear him out but only on the sole condition that he told me all he knew about his illness so that I could use that knowledge to benefit medical science of course what I was truly hoping for was a unique case to focus my academic studies and career around and I'm sure on some level Spencer suspected that before sliding my reply under the door I first attempted to make verbal contact I pressed my head close

to the door and simply said it's me I got your note no reply came I continued with how did you know I would get it can you hear me my last question was cut off by a low bubbling gurgling sound a liquid response that brought bile up to my throat I fled once more almost as keenly as the first night I saw those terrible eyes and confined myself once again to the staff room where a cold sweat prevented me from gaining any meaningful rest early the next morning I rushed upstairs before the morning staff came

in and to my relief there Was another note waiting for me this second letter was shorter than the first and as I was more accustom to his writing I was able to quickly read over it before the day shift arrived overwhelmed to hear that you will Aid me I am a little unsure if you are ready for all that I have to say but you must be for my sake and also for yours before that though I must address a few things last night I was unable to respond to your questions I did try but

as you no doubt heard my vocal skills have atrophied to the point of uselessness I appreciate your Keen interest in my condition I'm flattered that you would consider trying to offer treatment to recure but I'm afraid I am far beyond that perhaps a bath in the waters of Lake Harley and carosa or the medicine of the star scientists of distant Yugo might have fail me but mere terrestrial treatment is useless my Affliction is just that a punishment handed down by callous forces that occasionally take an interest in our race never to our benefit and always

to our misery no I am beyond help but I thank you for the gesture the items I mentioned in my last letter are as follows my diary that I kept up Until my imprisonment and a manuscript the latter is of the most importance its title is DIY mystery both should be in Monroe's home you must find a way to get both back to me here as quickly as you can the next few days dragged on I knew what Spencer wanted me to do but I was undecided if I was capable of committing a crime to

get him what he wanted clearly he was delusional there could be no doubt of that but I was still so Keen to learn more about him despite his words I was sure his condition could benefit from study and it was only the continued imprisonment by Dr Ro that stopped the medical community from offering him any kind of Aid I wasn't fully ready to burgle a man's home on the request of a Madman and besides Dr Monroe was still off work with a virus making a midnight trip to his home a risky Endeavor I had no

reason to call on him in a social capacity and I doubted he would even recognize me as a work colleague such were the man's ways I maintained a relaxed correspondence with Spencer avoiding a direct answer to his request and instead probing further into his and Dr Monroe's past eventually he grew impatient and our brief notes started to turn into Bitter circular arguments Spencer's illness appeared to worsen and he was growing nervous I was unwilling to rush headlong into a decision regarding recovering his notes and manuscripts and this provoked in him a string of notes filled

with venomous scoldings I admit that during this time I considered dropping the matter entirely and returning to my previous routine of University work and considered quitting Byron house altogether before deciding one way or the other however I took it upon myself to do some research without telling Spencer I didn't have a lot to go on but I made a trip into the nearby town of East witch and consulted the modest Library there I searched for anything that mentioned a lake Holly carcassa Yugo D vermis Mysteries and all the other nonsense words that had appeared in

Spencer's note of Lake Holly and yuggoth there was nothing no text on geography History Science astronomy or any other subject known to man contained a reference to either of these words diveris Mysteries was a more successful area of study and I learned a great deal about this forbidden and cursed home it was written in the year 1542 By one Ludwig prin shortly before his death at the hands of the Inquisition various translations and copies had been made throughout history many with strange titles such as the Grim one more or the sakic rituals its original Latin

title however was ominous translating into something akin to the mysteries of the worm the book seemed to be one of several interconnected volumes each more hideous in subject matter and scope other works were mentioned in the text books such as col de ghouls things of the water and that final and most Dreadful work of black magic the Necronomicon each book spoke of strange places and strange times whole cycles of myth where the Earth had been ruled over by old ones and Elder things of the malevolent fungi from yuggoth of the faceless night gauns and the

black goat with a thousand young of great cthulu who lay dead but dreaming in lightless brine soaked Ria I freely admit that most of the works were mercifully beyond my understanding but still there was an awful sincerity to their descriptions I pushed such Thoughts From My Mind after all I was at that time a man of science not sorcery still they Lingered in my imagination and have continued to do so every day since after hours of searching I also came across a small paragraph in a recently written history book about witchcraft regarding the reign of

Queen Elizabeth I that mentioned a certain John D as a sorcerer and author of such works as monus hieroglyphica and notes on the mysteries of the worm I made a note of the book's author a doctor Haren glass and penned a letter to him the next day asking if he knew anything about a book called diis Mysteries but I never received a reply what kind of forbidden study had Spencer and Monroe been involved in I had always assumed the doctor to be a rational man but if Spencer would to be believed he was once a

keen scholar of the Supernatural and Explorer of strange Dark Places the day in the library had taxed my mind and I returned to my apartment for an early night's sleep my dreams however were far from restful I was plagued by a reoccurring nightmare of the first time I had seen Spencer's strange eyes chaotic vortices burned into my mind and I found myself floating through the vast void of space I knew not how I came to be in The Ether But I had a vague sense of possessing no body and of being carried on the back

of something so Sinister I dared not look the beating of huge Wings deafening my ears and although I had no idea where space I was I instinctly knew I was bound for lightless Yugo The Outpost of the dread Sentinel fungi then my nightmare scene shifted and I found myself standing at the edge of what I knew must be Lake Holly in kakasa dark purple Waters lapping around my ankles thick like syrup but with the stench of a thousand rotting corpses something huge and horrifying rotating slowly in the center of the lake a colossal Tower of

plastic flesh that to my poor possessed the mockery of a face upon its surface and eyes too the swollen bulging eyes of Spencer I awoke suddenly screaming and short of breath my sheets were damp with cooling sweat and my head throbbed in pain I took a week off work to recover but the nightmares continued to assault me on a nightly basis eventually December came to a close and Christmas came and went with little fuss I've never been one to overly celebrate the so-called Festival period and spent most of the time alone In my apartment or

in the local bar when I did finally return to Byron house I discovered that Dr Monroe had also returned to work and was looking a lot healthier having finally beaten the virus and he was back to his usual aloof self I was somewhat relieved as his presence made contact with Spencer impossible and beyond my control something even he would be forced to accept as it seemed he was as afraid of Monroe discovering our contact as I was I wasted little time by now I was obsessed with gaining more knowledge about dima's mystery and its contents

I didn't for one second believe that anything I had seen in my dreams or read in various books on necromancy and Witchcraft to be true but rather I saw it as a means of further understanding more about Spencer my desire to write a paper on him had been renewed by my sudden plunge into his Supernatural interest and I felt confident I could write a groundbreaking work on Supernatural monomania and hand it confidently to my tutor I had finally decided to go ahead with Spencer's wish and steal back his diary and manuscript not to hand over

to him of course but for my own personal study once I was done I could simply sell the book and make a bit of cash in the process by all accounts it would be worth a fortune to the right buyer I knew my time at Byron house was coming to an end first semester exams were looming and I would need to quit my job in order to focus on my studies in a few weeks I would be away from Monroe and Spencer and back into the sanity of regular Student Life greedy for knowledge I therefore

decided that breaking the law was worth the risk and set about planning my theft I started to follow Monroe home on my days off despite recovering from his illness he seldom stayed the night over at Byron house no doubt he was still recovering on some level and wished to sleep in his own bed this would make things difficult of course but I was confident his stubbornness would cause him to quickly lapse back into his old habits I would wait for him just out of sight and then carefully Shadow the man until I became familiar with

his routine fortunately he did as I suspected he would and started spending more time at Byron house eventually I chose a night to break into his home it was a freezing January night when I made My way over to Monroe's large detached house on Town Court Lane the night was clear and painfully chilly and the moon and stars were shining down brightly from the void above momentarily bringing back memories of my recent nightmares I won't make too much of an ordeal about my burglary and I'm certainly not proud of it despite being a total amateur

I managed to scale the large brick wall at the back of the residence and using my jacket wrapped around my hand punched my way through the small glass plate fitted into the kitchen door wasting no time I pulled out my flashlight and systematically searched the downstairs room it wasn't long before I Came Upon A study there was a strong musk permeating the whole room which I attributed to the stuffed animals and ancient Toms that littered the walls hundreds of large heavy books were held up by sagging shelves that almost seemed to Creek and moan under

the weight I searched the largest of the bookshelves trying my best to find the tone I needed the books were in no order and heaped upon each other in a half-hazard fashion among the mundane volumes on History anthropology and geography there sat Several dark and Sinister texts that I had seen mentioned in my time at the East witch Library un outre col and vun comp DEET col de gouls and the dreaded selo fragments most of these forbidden texts appeared to be modern translations but at least one of them was frighteningly authentic and ancient it didn't

take me long to find de vermis Mysteries I slid the crumbling manuscript out of the Shelf carefully the remaining books gently toppled into the vacant space it left behind I doubted if Monroe would even notice a particular volume missing in all this chaos but I quickly rearranged the shelf so no noticeable gaps were present I noticed another Slimmer black bound volume tied to the back of the manuscript and a quick check confirmed it to be Spencer's diary I silently praised Monroe's sense of propriety despite his disorderly collection he must have known how important Spencer's diary

and notes on the manuscript were unable to contain my curiosity I opened d merous Mysteries and glanced over the spidery text inside unfortunately the manuscript was far too complex to decipher with its archaic Latin and so I concentrated instead on the more Accessible but no less mysterious Journal I was confident that Monroe would not return home and the house had no close neighbors so by the light of my flashlight I sat at the study's large desk and read the journal detailed the various travels that Monroe and Spencer had undertaken as young men and it appeared

that the latter had been true to his word in his note describing these Adventures the diary spoke of an ancient cult that the two had come into contact with during their sojourn in Central Asia a place or perhaps even a Time known only as Lang it also spoke of a Secret order of undying monks who guarded a fabulous treasure that lay in the center of a great Stone Monastery this treasure a large golden idol of a winged Hound was a powerful artifact capable of opening the way for the old ones locked beyond our reality they

guarded this treasure from all would be Thieves such as the Fearsome Choo a race of semi-human cannibals as well as the dreaded spiders of Lang sentient arachnids with their own designs for mankind the old ones appeared to be Monroe's main motivation concerning the cult in particular he appeared to Be opposed to them in some way Spencer seemed much more interested in the Cults mysterious Powers as I read on I learned more about their dealings with the monks and the secrets of immortality that they could induct Outsiders into it seemed that Spencer did indeed get his

wish and meet the deathless leaders of the group but that meeting had gone sour and in retaliation he decided to steal the golden idol and make his Escape Monroe was reluctant to go with him but being Guilty By Association was forced to flee for his life during the trip back to England the two had been in constant disagreement as to the Idol's fate Monroe wanted to be rid of the thing but Spencer refused saying that the black Secrets contained within would allow them to live forever as Gods upon the Earth at some point the two-

parted ways Monroe with the idol and Spencer with nothing he grew deeply paranoid and furious with Monroe's departure and became convinced that either the cult or Monro had placed a curse on him and spoke first of the symptoms that no doubt manifested into his current condition I tried my best to locate the idol which was drawn On a diary page with great detail but my efforts were fruitless I suspected that Monroe may still possess it but that it must be hidden somewhere in his house or even his office at Byron regardless it was time for

me to leave I didn't sleep well after reading Spencer's diary the nightmares grew more Vivid and intense I felt as if I was being plunged into gloomy arabus my tormented Soul nightly insulted by every Blasphemous Revelation that the diary had revealed the morning I was due to attend my last shift at Byron house I sat and pondered over an untouched cup of coffee I had read much in the past few weeks and although I was certain that the whole matter of magic and old gods and yug Goth was purely fanciful I couldn't detach a dreadful

sense of realness from the topics I had read if everything written down in that diary was true then it would appear that Monroe had put a stop to Spencer's plans of immortality and lost him up in the attic to cease whatever Menace he may have been to mankind due to my nightmares however I was quickly growing tired with the whole Affair it was taxing my mind to the breaking point and my studies had suffered because Of it I reasoned that if some insane inmate wanted his book back who was I to deny him better to

be rid of the things and banish all thoughts of Elder gods and old ones from my mind and get back to my studies forget about the whole thing and my involvement in it secretly I had thought thought about putting the books back in Monroe's house but it had been clear that he knew about the burglary due to the smash window I left behind he seemed to be spending more time at home now and I heard a rumor that he acquired a rather large German Shepherd to guard his house having possession of the books would clearly

mark my guilt on the off chance he suspected me the local police would not have to search my tiny apartment to find them I could have discarded them but but that felt irresponsible given their contents plus my fingerprints would be all over them selling them was an option and my original plan but I pondered upon what kind of person would be interested in obtaining the book and to what purpose plus they could still trace it back to me you may think I was being paranoid but at the time I didn't want to risk the chance

no matter how unlikely that I Could be linked to criminal activity I snuck the manuscript and Spencer's diary into one of my folders and went to work at the earliest opportunity when the the other staff were busy and there was a lull in activity I marched up to the attic and after a moment's hesitation I placed both the diary and the dious mysteries in front of the door and knocked once before briskly leaving I worked sporadically at Byron house from then on I had planned to quit but a few extra shifts came my way and

I was in no position to turn down the money I found a way to juggle the work with my studies and I took day shifts only slowly the nightmares stopped and I was able to get adequate rest I looked forward to passing my exams and starting a new semester at University and it felt as if normality was returning to my life however I noticed a strange change in Monroe as the days went by he was showing signs of severe stress and appeared to be growing weaker As Time passed the virus that had plagued him a

few weeks ago appeared to be back and I even saw him cough up a small measure of blood into his handkerchief his entire demeanor took on a somber appearance Great black rings formed around his eyes and deep wrinkles appeared to be manifesting upon his brow not only did he come across as a man ravaged by Illness but also a man worried out of his mind he was less abrasive than usual and even attempted to make some light conversation with the other staff in an almost resigned and defeated way eventually he got so ill that he

once again had to leave work only this time he never came back we received the news a few days later that do had died of heart failure nothing unusual given his age and recent stress but it still unnerved me greatly his death plagued my mind for if what I dared suspect was true then I had somehow played a part in his death and so had Spencer with that damn manuscript now James we are coming to the end of my story it has taken a while to get to this point and I admit that I may

have stretched out the affair longer than I intended if I have it was only because I dread writing that which must be written down it is the only way you will understand as I did at the start of this account I now urge you to consider not involving yourself any further in this matter Put the occult and Witchcraft far from the back of your mind there are things mankind should not cannot know black magic is truly the devil's work James if you are so inclined you can do your own research on the history of Byron

house if you do so you will learn that one February evening around 60 years ago the house was burned down to its foundations with only one casualty you may also learn that not long after Dr Monroe's house was broken into a large portion of his private book collection was burned to ashes on his back lawn no one was ever caught for these crimes there were suspects of course disgruntled ex-employees former inmates perhaps even a naive and young orderly studying Psychiatry at the University of Manchester but the police failed to ever nailed down a perpetrator much

time has passed and I'm not as sharp as I once was nevertheless I will recount the terar as fully as I can and then maybe you will give up this investigation of yours once a month the staff and inmates at Byron house took a trip into the countryside as a reward for good behavior so that everyone could benefit from some good old-fashioned fresh air Spencer was exempt From these trips of course due to his physical limitations and would have normally stayed behind with Dr Monroe whilst the rest of the house went out however with Monroe

gone none of the staff were willing to stay behind to see Spencer's needs and instead a tray of food was left outside of his attic door the staff and inmates then left the house for a few days I had made it clear that my college studies needed some serious tending to and I would be unable to work at Byron house any longer I left not long after Dr Monroe passed away and never stayed in contact with Jane Williams or anyone else at the house confident that one of the fellows I now shared my student accommodations

with in Manchester could provide me an alibi should I have need of one I took the train from Picadilly to East witch I then took the last bus to Barton and I waited for Williams James and the various inmates they looked after to leave the premises and allow me to make a concealed entry it was with a heavy heart and a troubled mind that I once again ascended those lonely Sinister steps that led to the Attic by this time the nightmares had returned only now They featured the tormented Spirit of Monroe crying to me from

Beyond the Grave I admit to you fully that I may have been in the grip of Madness at this time for what San man would have done what I did on that chill February night I was convinced that the fate of all mankind was at stake that Lang and Yugo and kakasa were all very much real and that the old ones waited patiently in their ancient prisons to descend once more upon the Earth I cannot say to you that I do not still believe these things but that is my burden not yours as I summed

up all the courage I could muster and stood before the door a voice slurred forth from Beyond to this day I cannot say if I truly heard these words or if they just appeared in my mind but those liquid syllables slimy and slopping spoke to me and I dared not answer back you done well the KY mine mon Ro denied killed him called it down from the Stars richual soul is nect to the gods it fed of him ELD to one Feast now Monroe Burns Body returning Freedom your help you're next my head spun with

confusion and my heart pounded with fear in one mad burst of Fury I kicked down The door and gazed upon that which had once been Jonathan Spencer what did I see it's difficult to truly describe with justifiable detail but what I did see caused me to flee the attic in a fit of howling Madness and return with gasoline and matches whatever it was I was convinced that only the purifying Touch of fire could erase its hord monstrosity from the world for floundering on the attic floor there laid a vast mass of gelatinous Rotting fungoid Flesh

quivering under the weight of its own hideousness parts of it lay splashed upon the ceiling and walls but the bulk laid upon the bare attic floor in bubbling pools unblinking bulbous eyes rolled around the shuttering Mound before locking upon me with the intensity of a Dying star appendages and pseudo appendages formed and spurted up from within only to collapse into mounds of hideous protoplasmic tissue that continued to squirm of their own accord I think I saw a face or at least parts of a face crawling somewhere upon the surface of that Blasphemous bulk it was

a rancid thing that had labored under the curse of Lang for more than half a century a blob of squirming meat that was the Laughing Gibbering mocking form of Jonathan Spencer inmate number 13 the shambler in the Attic [Music] [Music]