Diaries of a Madmen #2 - Dark Descent - May 3rd, 1803.

Part 2 of my trilogy. I haven't had free time to write since August due to an absolutely insane senior year of college, but I am back!

Diaries of a Madman #2 �" Dark Descent

 

            #2. May 3rd, 1803 - L'Aigle, Normandy, France. Written by Jean-Luc Choffard. Translated into English by Professor Camden Krowder, UCUSA, 2013.

Author’s Note #2 �" This translation has taken much longer than originally anticipated. The writing was scattered with multiple runes and glyphs that for the life of me, I have been unable to find any information on. The original author of this also had strange words, like Shanaugen scattered through as well. For accuracy’s sake, I have put the words exactly where they were in the original text. It certainly interrupts the flow of his writing, but as we have seen, something is already doing that. I have been researching these glyphs, runes, and words for months, with almost nothing of use being discovered. I will continue in my search.

However, I also feel as if I should warn you that the content contained in this dairy entry is much more disturbing, dark, and twisted than what we previously translated. It is clear that something drove this man to madness. I am reaching out to contacts all over the world in hopes of finding leads related to this journal. I named this section Dark Descent, and I think you will quickly find that to be an apt title.

As always,

Professor Camden Krowder

University of Central United States of America.

 

#2 -  Shanaugen. The name continues to be seared into my mind, into my very soul. I’ve not left the house in days. I sit here, pen in one hand, mysterious rock clutched in the other, scribbling these words on this parchment. I am trying to maintain Vereghast sanity. The sanity is quickly fading, and I realize that now. I have ended my relationship with my beloved, as I do not want her to be hurt by my increasing descent to madness. I have locked the door. Barricaded it even. I will not let others be hurt by me. I find myself full of rage, hate, lust, anger, and more. I have thought unholy thoughts. Dark, murderous thoughts. I have dreams that have increasingly become more and more nightmarish and profane. I will not sleep tonight. If I were a brave man, I would end my own life, here and now to make sure my friends and loved ones are protected, but I am afraid. Afraid of this dark force that has come upon me. Afraid of what awaits on the other side.

That Jean-Baptiste Biot man from the university has knocked on my door every day, but I will not answer. He seeks to harm me, this I know. He persists and persists, claiming he just wants to speak to me. I WILL Not LISTEN. Weresyn. This rock, this…gift tells me I can trust no one. I am alone, besides it. Even Aveline, my beloved, may be compromised by this man. Whatever he wants, it is not good for any of us, and especially not for me. Everyone in this village is vile. Filth. They should all be burnt away. Shanaugen. The darkness is good. My home is the only place safe enough for this rock. I will protect it. Shanaugen speaks to me, tells me I must listen and obey. And I shall. It tells me that if I do as it asks, it will tell me about the rock, why it came to me, why it calls to me, and what I must do to keep it. Because I will not lose it. The rock must be kept with me above all.

Shanaugen spoke to me in a dream last night. Told me what must be done to this village. And it will be done. Perish, burn, twilight, Kalsun. It will be done. I prepare now. This village would harm the rock, Shanuagen and myself. It must not be allowed to stand. Trezlen. It will fall. The people within it will die. Perish. Suffer. They curse Shanaugen. They will be ground into oblivion. I must- Authors Note 2: This part is cut off abruptly, and his journal continues below. Best estimate is that this seems to be the next day when he continues writing.

The time is approaching. Quickly. My sanity has all but eroded. I see the words I wrote above about the village and how it must burn. I did not write that. Or at least the me that is writing this now. I love this village and Shanuagen these people. This is to be my last journal entry. I must end my life to protect the others. This Shanaugen, this rock, this unspeakable horror must end. I am scared, terrified, and wonder if I will really be able to end myself, but I know it must be done. Whatever horror fell to this earth, I have allowed it to continue. It has ruined me in a week. I write these words in warning to others who find this. This rock in my possession is from hell. I don’t understand it. At least not when I am in this frame of mind.. I expect the more beastly version of me that surfaces from time to time understands the madness and insanity of what he has been told. Whether it be demon, extraterrestrial, or something else, I don’t want to understand. I want to end this.

However, before I take this knife to my throat, I must write about one final encounter I had this morning, with Jean-Baptiste Biot. Whoever he is, I think he knows more than he lets on. He knocked on my door, insistently, for over an hour. I finally got the strength to stand up and open the door, to tell him to flee. He forced himself in and made me sit down. He said whatever had happened, whatever thoughts I had, it was not my fault. He claimed that what he was looking for was very important and if I knew any information about this rock he was searching for, I should tell him. All would be forgiven. He said there were forces at work I did not understand. That I was caught up in a battle I did not understand and could not survive. That ancient supernatural forces were invading our world, and that if we did not fight, and win, darkness would consume everything. Eternal darkness. The type Shaunagen wants. I needed to give him this rock, and if I did, we could repel an invasion of evil. I wanted to, more than anything. He reached out his hand and asked for my help.

Of course, I lied to the fool. Told him I knew nothing. He was suspicious, but did not press it after some time. He got up to leave. However, he became the first casualty of Shanaugen’s conquest of this world. He stood to leave, and turned around. Before he knew I was even out of my seat, I was upon him. I tore out his throat with my bare hands. His blood streaks these pages, and his carcass lies on my floor. VERITAS. He is the first of many victories. This village will be the second. Shanaugen’s return is imminent. All will perish. Man, woman, child. Their end is here.

Alas, I write this last section quickly. The ink is still not dry from the paragraph above, and Jean-Baptiste’s body is still warm. Elxas. I have killed. I am fighting to resist this monster’s influence on my mind. I DID NOT WRITE WHAT YOU SEE ABOVE. This will end now. I am not a monster. I am Jean-Luc Choffard. I am 23 years old. Son to wonderful parents. Aveline is the only woman I have ever loved, and I will wait for her in the afrerlife, if I am blessed enough to join her in heaven. Remember me as a man who worked hard, who sought to live a moral life. Not as the monster I have been twisted into. I will die as Jean-Luc, and I will die alone, so that others may live together.

God keep you all safe. Farewell.

God will try. Shanaugen.

SHANAUGEN.

 

Author’s Note #3 �" As I said, far more disturbing than the previous entry. This man clearly experienced some sort of mental illness. I am asking some colleagues who work in mental health to review these entries and tell me what they believe his diagnosis was. I would hazard a guess that it is split personality disorder, but that is not my area of expertise. I am disturbed and saddened by what I have encountered in these pages, but I will press on. There seems to be one final entry. I will start translating this as soon as possible. Again, I ask any readers who stumble onto this, if you have any information about these events, this man, or whatever Shanaugen is, please contact me. I find this case so fascinating. It’s hard to focus on anything else. Thank you.