Things are crazy here. Blake is in the hospital, quarantined and injured. Heather and I are holed up in the hotel. I don’t know what else to do. I’m so, so sorry I got anyone into this. It’s all I can do to keep posting here to tell you what’s going on. I have a feeling whatever this is doesn’t want its secrets public knowledge, so at least it feels like I’m doing something to fight it. I’m losing hope.
A lot has happened since I last posted, but, as always, we’ll keep it chronological.
The door in the tunnel opened into a small chamber, an intimate space but finely decorated. The stone walls were carved with intricate symbols, like none I’ve ever seen before. Runes, maybe, but I don’t think they’re Norse. I can’t describe them. They made my head hurt.
Tapestries hung on three of four walls between stone pillars, each depicting a different scene from what I assume was the same story. The one on the left showed an androgynous person with long hair, sitting on the ground, head in his or her hands in despair. Behind the person stood a thin, solid black figure with no features, hands on his/her shoulders. It would have looked like a comforting guardian or angel if it wasn’t so unnerving. At the bottom was the word “Electum” in those fancy medieval style letters. Latin again?
The second tapestry, across the chamber from the door, depicted that same androgynous person, only (s)he was split vertically down the middle. The other half was replaced with the shadow figure. Two halves to a whole. The hybrid creature had its arms outstretched, tendrils of darkness spiraling from the hands. Seemingly holy light shone down on it from above. The caption here was “Iunctum.”
The last tapestry was to the right. It showed a crowd of people from behind, all on their knees, bowing to the black figure. The figure in the background was much larger than any of its worshippers in the foreground, and again the heavenly light beamed down on it. The word was “Elatum.”
The gist of the last tapestry was easy to discern. The spread of this sickness, the masses on their knees. Donec totum impleat orbem. Until it fills the whole world.
The other two weren’t so clear. Who was the person in despair? Did the half person-half shadow creature imply taking someone over, or was it a partnership? Was this something that had already come to pass or more of a prophecy? No way to tell at the time.
Blake didn’t even pause to look at the pictures. As soon as the door was open, he strode over to the record player in the corner that was blasting “You Are My Sunshine.” With one rough motion he shoved the entire thing off the side table it sat on and let it smash against the floor. The song cut out with the scream of the needle against vinyl. Blake stared at it for a second, then brought a heavy, steel-toed boot down on the player. Wood and metal crunched beneath his foot. He picked up the record from the rubble, a 1939 single of “You Are My Sunshine” by the Pine Ridge Boys, and snapped it neatly in half. I nodded. I was sick of it, too.
Other than the tapestries and the record player, the chamber only held a podium at its center. Two lit white candles stood on it, on either side of a black leather bound book.
“Notice anything weird about this place?” Blake asked. I almost laughed but I was too stressed out.
“Other than the fact that it’s the inner sanctum of some kind of fucking cult? Oh, and the fucking candles are lit.”
“There’s no mold down here,” he said. “Not in the tunnel, either.” I hadn’t noticed that. I wondered what it meant.
The leather cover of the book we found on the podium is branded with the Hadwell family crest, the same one all over the school and on the door to this chamber. Inside, the yellowed pages are set with dense type. They smell musty, with a hint of cigar smoke. It’s a short book - only 138 pages. The writing style is flowery, akin to a bible. I think that’s what it is, this cult’s book of scripture.
I took it with us when we left. At that point I figured, as I had with the laptop, that we were fucked anyway. No point in leaving behind something important. We couldn’t stay long, as it turned out. But I’ll tell you about our escape next time. Right now I think you need some answers. I think you’ve been waiting long enough. And I think I’ve put enough clues together. I think I’ve figured out what happened and why, not that it helps anything.
I spent a few days reading that “bible.” Perhaps “book of prophecy” is a more accurate term. I was raised Presbyterian (though I am no longer religious) and so I’m very familiar with the Christian creation myth and other biblical stories. The story of the universe told in this book was very, very different.
The story goes that at the beginning of time, when the universe was an empty void, the old gods awoke. Countless gods, nearly infinite in numbers, all of them able to bend the very fabric of the cosmos. Over the eons, with the vast darkness of space and time stretching out before them, they became bored. And that, to these powerful beings, was unacceptable.
To alleviate this boredom, each god created its own dimension, where it designed and dictated every natural law. Due to the jealous nature of these beings, soon these dimensions became closely guarded by their particular creators, to avoid their brethren stealing their secrets. Alliances were formed and rivalries were introduced. Walls between dimensions became thicker and thicker between enemies, and between friends they dwindled down to nothing. And in their cycles of creation and destruction, the gods were content.
Of course, one of these gods created created our world. His is a story you’re probably familiar with. It’s been passed down through many religions around the globe, including (but not limited to) Christianity, Islam and Judaism. You know, God-with-a-capital-G. But what all of the stories fail to tell you is that He’s apparently really fickle, and bores easily. We weren't quite interesting enough for Him. God abandoned us long ago. That’s one of the reasons the cult hates Him so much.
According to the Hadwell Bible, God-with-a-capital-G had a brother, who is referred to as “the Entity” and given the sexless pronoun “It” (with a capital I). God and the Entity had hated each other since time in memorium. The walls between their dimensions were as thick as any. But the Entity knew that God didn’t deserve such a beautiful world as He had created, and when He abandoned His people the Entity grew angry. It decided to save us. It made a hole in the wall between dimensions and slithered through into ours. It planned to spread Its influence to all of God’s abandoned children. Here’s how the book describes the paradise It would bring:
“And they that accept the Holy Gift shall be Ascended and they shall have Life Eternal. And they shall be no longer victims of fear, nor doubt, nor hatred, nor pain. And they shall be held close to their loving Entity. And they shall be One with It and with each other, forever and ever.”
But God had foreseen this trespassing. He’d set “Cowardly” traps before He fled (God is often referred to as a Coward-with-a-capital-C in the Hadwell Bible). When the Entity came into our world, It found Itself weakened. Our dimension is hostile to It. It knew It would need a host or a partner, someone from this world, with whom It could share strength to do Its “holy work.”
At this point, to me, the Entity sounds a lot like a parasite. But for some reason the cult seems to think being chosen is some sort of honor. The vague promises of Life Eternal and Ascension are enough to make them want it. There are no details as to what it entails, so they assume it’s a good thing. I think we’ve seen enough of this so-called process of Ascension to know it’s not.
And so the Entity bided Its time in the cracks of our dimension, waiting for the right vessel to come along. The final section of the book is a detailed prophecy that mirrors the story told by the tapestries on the walls. A Vessel will be chosen by the Entity, where It will incubate and grow stronger. The Vessel and the Entity are called “Two in One,” but I’m not sure if that means that both consciousnesses are working together or if the Entity completely controls the Vessel.
When It is strong enough, the Entity will spread Its influence across the globe. The people will Ascend into paradise, becoming one with the Entity for all eternity. I don’t know, that doesn’t sound like a good thing to me. And, from the twisted forms of the infected people and their hideous smiles, it doesn’t look like Eternal Paradise. It looks like Eternal Torment. The Entity is clearly manipulative. It's probably not even a god. I hope the cult came to regret their decision to facilitate this creature’s rebirth into our world. Because they did facilitate it. The book describes various rituals and prayers that supposedly help It enter a Vessel.
I think the Vessel in question was born 25 years ago and has been active ever since. There was a birth certificate folded and placed in the back of the Hadwell Bible. The cult leader's daughter, Elizabeth Hadwell, born 1989 in Portland. Someone has written on the back of it “We have been waiting! All hail the coming of the Entity! Rejoice!”
I don’t know that it’s Liz from the earlier stories, but I believe it is. It makes sense that the infection started at the people closest to her. But the way she wrote in the Chicago series, how scared she seemed, how worried for Alan, how hopeless… Maybe she didn’t know what she was carrying inside of her, which is so tragic. Then again, maybe she did. Maybe she’s a villain, one who is very good at lying. I don’t know.
Why am I so sure it’s Liz? The names might be a coincidence. But for the last week I was in contact with a man who referred to himself as the Voyager - remember that Chicago number that texted me to go to the school? He said he wanted to help, and he was sure it was the Elizabeth we all knew, though he wouldn’t tell me why. And I trusted him, because he seemed to know so much more about it than I did. He said he knew all of the people from the other series - Jess, Liz, Alan, Lisa, Alex. He said he even knew Z. Trusting him was just another mistake, on top of an enormous pile of the fuck ups I’ve been making for the past month and a half. And now, thanks to me, Blake is injured.
I can’t type any more right now. I’m not sure when the next blackout will happen, and I’m not sure how long Heather and I have been in this motel room. The calendar says it’s been a week since I last posted on Nosleep. But that can’t be right. It felt like a couple days, max. We can only remember bits and pieces. She’s suffering from the amnesia now, too, which makes me hopeless. We’re definitely infected. Don’t come looking for us.
I’ll post again as soon as I can. I have this feeling It, the Entity, doesn’t want me to. It’s gotten to me, I know it. It’s part of me, even if I can’t feel It. It’s watching my world from behind my eyes, latched on and biding its time. I’m sick. The light hurts my eyes, I can’t eat. I feel angry all the time, or hopeless. Then suddenly I’ll be laughing and Heather will be laughing and we’ll just be rolling on the ground in hysterics. Ten minutes later, we’re sobbing. I hate it. Is there a cure? Is there a way to destroy It? Can I get It out of my head?
How does one defeat a god?
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