AN: Taking a break from my other project at the moment. For those who read my other fic, the next chapter is still in the works but it should be done soon. As the Summary stated, this is heavily inspired by the work of H.P Lovecraft. If you haven't heard of him go read his work right now. ….Oh I didn't go anywhere. I'm waiting. …...Alright here we go.
From the private Journal of Booker DeWitt.
November 18
It's been about 3 days now since the nightmares prevented me from a good night's sleep. Every night is the same, it begins with vague images of a city in the clouds, a woman in blue, and lighthouses scattered across the ocean. I hear the faint whispers of a feminine voice, followed by guttural utterances I shudder to even recount. The voice repeats the same jumble of syllables, before I get a glimpse of a woman contorting into impossible positions. The dream ends when I awake in a cold sweat each morning at the sight of that.
As a practical man, the first few nightmares did little to deter me from my daily routines, but as I had less and less sleep, and the dreams began to repeat, I became more than a little unnerved. This wasn't something that happened to private detectives. This happened to scholars that dug too deep into an ancient ruin and uncovered some artifact. However, since I am a practical man, I link this to drinking one too many shots too late at night.
My clients are beginning to notice a lack of sleep as well. I am considering using the aid of sleeping pills, and hope for a dreamless night.
-Booker D.