March 8th
What a day! A shining sun, a hint of breeze, and those lovely little blackbirds with the bright yellow eyes gathered around the single raven. The ground is amazingly light under my feet just as my backpack is. It's like love, but far better. Love has to do with one person, this involves the whole world. Even Burns's newest load of chapters and reports can't dampen the mood this weather puts my spirits in. Bearatis says it's just me, that I have one of those tempers that always depend on the weather and maybe he's right. My great-grandfather was supposed to be like that to, and for some reason people always said he and I were alike.
March 10th
Looking at the last entry reminded me of something,...I have absolutely no real knowledge of my great-grandfather. I thought of it after finally looking at Burns's new assignment to "write and discuss a deceased family member from at least 2 generations back." Obviously I've chosen this mystery man for my project. Bearatis has agreed to help me, which as you know he can do, not being in the class.
March 20th
Research isn't going as well as I thought. No one is willing to discuss Grandfather. I can't even get his real name. Everyone I met will only call him the same thing: Meurtrier Fou.
P.S.-"Meurtrier Fou" is French for "Crazy Murderer." Now I Have to know more.
April 1st
Day Off. Went out with Bearatis to pull our yearly pranks. He's going away for the rest of the vacation so we had to make them good. His girlfriend came too (and no I am NOT jealous). If anything I felt unusually ecstatic, something, a big difference to the stormy weather. I hadn't even noticed until then the depression I'd been in over the past few weeks. Probably just sickness.
April 12th
No news on Grandfather, only the same words, the same name : Meurtrier Fou.
April 14th
Strange. I feel...very strange. Went for a walk around the park again. Could have sworn I was being followed, very closely, but when I turned around, no one was there.
April 28th
Another walk around the park. And now I'm sure, I'm positive I was followed.
May 15th
I dreamt. More vividly than usual. Something sat on my chest, choking me. Couldn't breath. Couldn't scream. Woke up and for a moment, I swear I saw the hand marks.
May 16th
Same nightmare.
It's followed me. From the park, it followed me home.
May 17th
Same Nightmare
May 18th
Same Nightmare.
June 7th
A hot night. I left a new glass of water on my night side table. Woke up from the nightmare tat's been plaguing me for almost a month. And the glass was empty.
June 10th
Got up to get some milk. Filled up the glass and turned my back for half a second at most. It drunk the milk. No new information on Grandfather.
June 20th
At last, some news of my grandfather. Hidden in the back of our storage room is a series of boxes full of mementos from his time, pictures of a handsome man, and a faded journal. I showed the picture to my family, and they raised Hell about it, locked me in my room and hid the journal from me. Apparently the handsome man is Meurtrier Fou.
July 1st
With the nightmares came the increasing certainty that it followed me home from the park, and is now everywhere I am. I want to write to Bearatis, to have his company even in a letter, but I don't want to bother him.
July 2nd .
It not only followed me, it is controlling me. I try to move or speak, and my voice comes out, but it speaks what the thing wants me to say.
July 3th
Nightmare again. Woke up with a bruise on my neck. The rest of the family was out for the weekend. Went for another walk around the park, then it turned into a run. Everything was fine. As the sunset touched the top of the trees a sudden urgency tugged at me. I had to get home right away. I sprinted there, convinced something beyond urgent waited for me. I was alone when I reached home.
July 4th
A beautiful night, fireworks, good company. I look back on my previous entries. God I must have been tired, too much work and too little sleep. A brain overload. A sickness, brain fever. There is no such thing as possession.
July 9th
The depression is back, the sense of being out of control. And it,. The nameless shapeless it.
July 12th
Found Grandfather's journal, hidden under the mother's mattress.
August 28th
I've finished reading Grandfather's diary. And now know the nature of the one that followed me. If what he writes is true, and I don't doubt him, than I am in more danger than I thought.
August 30th
This is the last time I can write as myself. It is my Master after this night. I am too tired to fight. But I have one last hand to play. I will not try to kill myself, as Grandfather did, for that set it free, to take over the next body. I give It mine, in the hopes to destroy from the inside. Somehow. I have made plans to ensure that Bearatis gets this journal as well as that of "Meurtrier Fou". My dear Bearatis to you and yours I leave these last words: beware of it. Mybe He was a murderer, maybe he was crazy and I am too. But I know this:
Grandfather was right. It cannot die except by It's time running out. And It's life is so much longer than ours. Fire did not kill it, the Will alone cannot kill it. It cannot be outsmarted, for it is so much more evolved than us. Beware my friend. Because it has returned and now, it has a name.
The Horla.
What a day! A shining sun, a hint of breeze, and those lovely little blackbirds with the bright yellow eyes gathered around the single raven. The ground is amazingly light under my feet just as my backpack is. It's like love, but far better. Love has to do with one person, this involves the whole world. Even Burns's newest load of chapters and reports can't dampen the mood this weather puts my spirits in. Bearatis says it's just me, that I have one of those tempers that always depend on the weather and maybe he's right. My great-grandfather was supposed to be like that to, and for some reason people always said he and I were alike.
March 10th
Looking at the last entry reminded me of something,...I have absolutely no real knowledge of my great-grandfather. I thought of it after finally looking at Burns's new assignment to "write and discuss a deceased family member from at least 2 generations back." Obviously I've chosen this mystery man for my project. Bearatis has agreed to help me, which as you know he can do, not being in the class.
March 20th
Research isn't going as well as I thought. No one is willing to discuss Grandfather. I can't even get his real name. Everyone I met will only call him the same thing: Meurtrier Fou.
P.S.-"Meurtrier Fou" is French for "Crazy Murderer." Now I Have to know more.
April 1st
Day Off. Went out with Bearatis to pull our yearly pranks. He's going away for the rest of the vacation so we had to make them good. His girlfriend came too (and no I am NOT jealous). If anything I felt unusually ecstatic, something, a big difference to the stormy weather. I hadn't even noticed until then the depression I'd been in over the past few weeks. Probably just sickness.
April 12th
No news on Grandfather, only the same words, the same name : Meurtrier Fou.
April 14th
Strange. I feel...very strange. Went for a walk around the park again. Could have sworn I was being followed, very closely, but when I turned around, no one was there.
April 28th
Another walk around the park. And now I'm sure, I'm positive I was followed.
May 15th
I dreamt. More vividly than usual. Something sat on my chest, choking me. Couldn't breath. Couldn't scream. Woke up and for a moment, I swear I saw the hand marks.
May 16th
Same nightmare.
It's followed me. From the park, it followed me home.
May 17th
Same Nightmare
May 18th
Same Nightmare.
June 7th
A hot night. I left a new glass of water on my night side table. Woke up from the nightmare tat's been plaguing me for almost a month. And the glass was empty.
June 10th
Got up to get some milk. Filled up the glass and turned my back for half a second at most. It drunk the milk. No new information on Grandfather.
June 20th
At last, some news of my grandfather. Hidden in the back of our storage room is a series of boxes full of mementos from his time, pictures of a handsome man, and a faded journal. I showed the picture to my family, and they raised Hell about it, locked me in my room and hid the journal from me. Apparently the handsome man is Meurtrier Fou.
July 1st
With the nightmares came the increasing certainty that it followed me home from the park, and is now everywhere I am. I want to write to Bearatis, to have his company even in a letter, but I don't want to bother him.
July 2nd .
It not only followed me, it is controlling me. I try to move or speak, and my voice comes out, but it speaks what the thing wants me to say.
July 3th
Nightmare again. Woke up with a bruise on my neck. The rest of the family was out for the weekend. Went for another walk around the park, then it turned into a run. Everything was fine. As the sunset touched the top of the trees a sudden urgency tugged at me. I had to get home right away. I sprinted there, convinced something beyond urgent waited for me. I was alone when I reached home.
July 4th
A beautiful night, fireworks, good company. I look back on my previous entries. God I must have been tired, too much work and too little sleep. A brain overload. A sickness, brain fever. There is no such thing as possession.
July 9th
The depression is back, the sense of being out of control. And it,. The nameless shapeless it.
July 12th
Found Grandfather's journal, hidden under the mother's mattress.
August 28th
I've finished reading Grandfather's diary. And now know the nature of the one that followed me. If what he writes is true, and I don't doubt him, than I am in more danger than I thought.
August 30th
This is the last time I can write as myself. It is my Master after this night. I am too tired to fight. But I have one last hand to play. I will not try to kill myself, as Grandfather did, for that set it free, to take over the next body. I give It mine, in the hopes to destroy from the inside. Somehow. I have made plans to ensure that Bearatis gets this journal as well as that of "Meurtrier Fou". My dear Bearatis to you and yours I leave these last words: beware of it. Mybe He was a murderer, maybe he was crazy and I am too. But I know this:
Grandfather was right. It cannot die except by It's time running out. And It's life is so much longer than ours. Fire did not kill it, the Will alone cannot kill it. It cannot be outsmarted, for it is so much more evolved than us. Beware my friend. Because it has returned and now, it has a name.
The Horla.