Drawings: Difference between revisions
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I am starting this journal to keep track of unusual goings-on lately at my house. It all started yesterday when I found a strange item on my front porch. It was a piece of paper covered in scribbles and drawings. I will include a copy with this journal if I can make one, as all attempts to scan it result in static, and the photographs I take of it are mysteriously erased from the camera within seconds. I would dismiss it as a joke if it weren't for this.
The drawing still does not yield to conventional photography, so instead I will describe it. A series of strange symbols cover one side of the paper. One might say the symbols are
I am beginning to hear strange sounds in the night. Light taps on my windows, faint scratching on the front door, and sounds not unlike whimpering echo throughout my large home at night. It is strange, and I am beginning to wonder if it has anything to do with the drawing.
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I still have not told anyone about the drawings.
The noises have grown louder. They bore themselves into my eardrums as I try to sleep. That face haunts my dreams in the few hours of sleep I do get.
Last night I actually managed to fall into a deep sleep. The nightmare I had will scar me forever. I was in my bedroom, but there was no furniture or decoration. It looked like it had when I first bought it, except older and more run down. Suddenly, a puddle of blood formed beneath my feet. It took me a moment to realize that it belonged to me. Suddenly, the floor collapsed under me, and I fell for miles and miles, landing in the basement. But my house had no basement. The walls were covered in blood and gore, with those demonic symbols everywhere. Suddenly, hundreds of the white faces came through the walls and swarmed me. They bit into me and tore at my flesh. I watched as they pulled out my intestines and spread them out all over the room. They stood me up, put a knife in my hand, and forced me to stab myself over and over and over again. I woke with a jolt. It was only a
I found a hatch in the floor of the downstairs closet after cleaning it out. Compelled by curiosity, I opened it. To my disbelief, it led to a room not quite unlike the one in my nightmare. There was no blood on the walls, but the symbols were still there. I also discovered a series of catacombs that branched off from the center room. I will explore these catacombs and keep my findings in this journal.
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