Juliens' Few Notes
A/N: I've been reading a lot of Poe and Lovecraft (along with some French gothic literature, because I just got in 8th grade) and I have to say that I love the style of writing. I had encountered it during the summer, because my parents had forced me to read classics.
I don't think I'll ever be able to reach the level of greatness in Poe's or Lovecraft's short stories, but I tried-ish.
You are now about to read the pilot of a new series I, the Great Blargh, just started: Juliens' Few Notes.
You will be following Juliens' life through the notes he writes. You will mostly follow the construction of the different Zanes. Bye, see you at the end of these first few notes!
November 27th, year ****
While continuing my research, an idea struck me. I do not fancy myself as one of this century's most precious and brilliant philosopher or intellect, but I did wish to transmit my ideas and opinions to the following generations. I highly doubt anyone will ever read these few notes, the hopes of any human being finding this place being very low.
However, if my research and hard work do amount to something, the fruit of this experiment might be able to spread my ideas across the world.
December 1st, year ****
Hello, notes. I do realize I have not written those past few days. But do not worry, as soon as I catch the habit, I will write more frequently.
As currently scribbling this, all the surrounding trees' leaves have fallen. The first snow will arrive soon, covering the landscapes of a thick, white coat. Winter settles in rather fast in this area. Everything seems to go rather fast in this area.
I recently finished my first automat's head. It is only a grotesque and brushed representation of mankind, nothing but a pale copy. Its face is stiff and straight, its head and hear is linear.
Despite its lack of humanity, I remain proud of my creation.
December 1st, only a few hours later
It is impossible for me to sleep. I have decided to put my misadventures on paper, so I would be able to realize how silly this whole affair is.
I feel its empty, glass eyes gazing up on me, probing the deepest corners of my soul. I turned, in such a fashion I would not be facing him anymore, but I can still feel his stare burning the back of my head.
I decide to do the only thing there is to be done. I turn its head, and it is now observing the wall.
May you excuse me wall.