Chapter 29: The Gospel of Daniel
Apr 7 – Finally I'm moved in. With this house and inheritance it will be years before I have to worry about working. Always wanted to keep a journal, just seemed like a good time now that I'm starting anew. Who knows, it might even be a good read in its own right.
Apr 13 – Starting to put down some roots. Nice people here but I don't introduce myself much. It's kind of silly to say but it's really quiet here. Peaceful. Maybe selling the place isn't such a good idea after all. It's little wonder people call this a tourist trap.
Apr 15 – It was sunny.
Apr 21 – Need to stop spending so much time getting caught up on my reading and focus a little bit. There's work to be done here and I'm finding it hard to concentrate. When I'm inside I just want to relax and when I go outside it's too nice to go asking questions and digging for documents or dealing with realtors. Maybe I'll get more done on rainy days.
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Apr 23 – Starting to get to work. Feels good to get back into a rhythm after all that court nonsense. Talked to the local librarian on the phone about public records but she wasn't very helpful. People around here are nice enough on the surface but they don't like strangers with questions. That's okay, just makes me work even harder.
May 7 – Neglecting you journal. Can't say I've done much to warrant writing about. Been listening to the radio a lot and I'm still convinced that music is steadily going to hell. Gone are the great masters of my youth and they've been replaced by rock n' roll which, frankly, has been at it for the last decade or two and still managed to not impress me. I do like the new single from Grover Washington...though this New Wave junk that's gaining traction threatens to be worse than rock.
Was out driving with the radio and passed by a tourist shop, going to stop by and get a copy of their sensationalist propaganda.
May 9 – Went into the shop. Picked up a lot of pamphlets and souvenirs. Most of it is garbage but there were a few diamonds in the rough. One of them in particular had a few grisly tales of accidents on Lake Toluca. Hard to believe such a majestic lake has so many bodies on the bottom of it. There's a part about a prison that existed here in the Civil War era that would be an absolute treasure trove.
Talked to some kids about the area and they mentioned a haunted well out in the woods. Will have to check that out sometime.
May 12 – This town is beginning to interest me from a historical perspective. I've been going through the microfilm in the library's newspaper archives going back the last forty years. I got side tracked by some zoology books but it's happening just like I thought it would. I'm getting caught up in my research and pretty soon I'm going to be here when the place opens and leave with the kindly librarian at night.
May 16 – Four days of combing through old papers has made my eyes more bleary than playing Pac Man for five straight hours. Turned up some interesting stuff. Going to work out a schedule so I'm not here too often.
May 30 – Lost this journal for a bit. Found it under some library books – didn't I say this was going to happen? Lots of stuff to report, where to start? I've noticed a few patterns going through Silent Hill's history. Every once in a while something terrible happens that's totally against small town behavior. Rash of suicides in the early 60s. Drug busts. Three upstanding citizens using their fancy houses as operations centers. Nothing interesting happens for five years, then just before I got here, bam, double homicide over on Saul. Parents stabbed to death, two children missing. I could go one but clearly this town is used to horrible things.
Another thing interests me. There's a few graveyards around town but no one seems to be buried there recently. I've checked with the city and this Rob guy told me the plots are owned by the county and are not for sale. People are only buried here when they either had a family plot or when the city had nowhere else to put them and even then it's crowded. Odd since according to Rob it's kind of a local superstition not to be buried near the water. Kooky. Clearly there is more than meets the eye going on.
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Jun 5 – The town is beautiful this time of year. Sorry, I'm just a little distracted. Called Rob again to ask for a list of all the folks buried here and he flat out refused. Isn't that kind of thing supposed to be available to the public? Why am I getting the run around?
Jun 6 – Rob won't budge. None of the surrounding counties seem to have any info either. What am I supposed to do? The deceased form an effective and useful tool to analyze the town's past. I might have to start hanging out in cemeteries with a notepad, it isn't illegal to visit graves is it?
Jun 7 – It's not illegal to look at graves but apparently it's not a good idea to walk around in one when there's a crazy grave keeper on duty. Skinny guy with a power mullet and missing a few teeth, likes to wave a shovel around.
Talked my way out of it and got him to calm down eventually. It was apparent during our conversation that he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed and considerably lonely. It was easy to tell, both a writer and a grave keeper have intrinsically lonely professions. I offered to take him to dinner sometime if he left me the hell alone and he happily introduced himself as Tom Bulger. I knew I was going to regret this but Tom said I could do whatever I pleased. He didn't have a list of the graves either so it looks like I'm back to my original plan.
Jun 8 – Dinner with Tom. I'll never be able to eat linguine again.
Jun 15 – Finished up my catalog of graves. Some of them date back to the 1700s and are too faded to read but I managed to get most of them. I hope xxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx
Jun 16 – Found a couple of things out going over my lists. A lot of the area was owned at some point by the powerful Stone and Archibolt families. They seem to be intertwined with the history of the town and I'm sure I'll have to deal with them sooner or later.
I've only been here a couple months but I have a good feeling. If there's a place to put my skills to use it's here. Good night for now, journal.
Jun 20 – Found a placed called the Silent Hill Historical Society. Can you say jackpot?
Jun 21 – Again with the rebuffs. Place is closed down for the moment, some kinda legal dispute. I must get in there. I can tell that it has info I'm not liable to find anywhere else. Going to have to find someone else to talk to other than my new nemesis, city official Rob. Bastard's stonewalled me at every turn. I could probably break in but I'll need a lot of time to sort through everything so that's out. There has to be someone I can deal with.
Jun 24 – Little good news for once. The guy in charge of keeping the place under lock and key is having some financial issues. He pretty much asked me to bribe him which I didn't even know was still in vogue. I did and he gave me a copy of the key. I can only go in at night when I'm likely to not be seen which is kind of sub optimal but will have to do. I'm also not allowed to take anything out of the building or it's his ass. Can't stop me from taking my own notes though so that hardly matters.
Jul 3 – Wow. Been a while it seems. Had to force myself to take a break from the Historical Society. The last two days I've been getting head aches from not eating regularly. I've been too busy to care – that building is everything I hoped it would be. Beyond the displays and touristy crap there's boxes and boxes of precious research and papers on the history of Silent Hill. I've run across a fellow historian named Jacob Stahl active in the 30s whose work has been invaluable to me. A lot of his old papers are stored here and I've been pouring over them for a week solid.
This is what I've been able to piece together so far. Early on the town was founded by witch hunters who have irrevocably left their mark but the area's true history goes back much farther. Stahl chanced upon yet another, earlier historian's work on the Native American rituals that went on here. Thankfully he had the presence of mind to copy his source material down to the spelling errors. To most people that doesn't mean much but to those of us looking for historical answers this kind of obsessive reproduction is priceless. I would have loved to meet Stahl but he disappeared sometime in early 1931.
Anyway, the copied report talks about this area being particularly important to the local tribes. The source (whose name Stahl never mentions unfortunately) claims to have found relics from the ground in the woods. He claims the rituals performed here were among the most bloody, secret and paradoxically the most holy. That makes no sense to me but this is not my usual field.
The paper goes on to say the exact ceremonies and rites were recorded long ago in a red book somewhere. One of the saddest things about such a priceless treasure is that it could have been tossed aside or used as kindling by some Neanderthal with no clue of what it was. Only if xxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxx
Been working too hard. Going for a drive tomorrow.
Jul 5 – I think there was someone else at the Historical Society last night. I could have sworn that I heard noises coming from outside but there was no one when I checked. I don't want to get busted so I'll stay away for a couple of days.
Good finds anyway. Some facts on the colonial settlers from a couple of different papers as well as an official government commission. Witch burnings were disturbingly common in the area – not like sitting down to watch a ball game every Friday common – but common enough that it kept that citizens in line. The initial colony narrowly avoided failure after a hard winter but an influx of pilgrims boosted the town's numbers and survivability the following year. The area was later touted (likely by merchants and civil leaders) to be a perfect place to live when it stabilized and continued to draw families. It was also easily defended thanks to the natural barriers of the mountains and lake.
Jul 8 – Some unsettling news. I've traced Stahl's last day on record because he actually wrote it himself. Taken from January 16th, 1931:
"My presence here is unhealthy at best both for myself and the ones who seek it. I am going to attempt to remedy this. I am afraid. I must not fail. Should a wiser soul come upon my letter, I beg you, finish what I have begun."
It was a scrap of paper hopelessly lost in his thick files. Whatever he was involved in must have been important. Given that the bulk of his work revolved around the rituals of the area before it was settled I can't imagine what he was afraid of. What did he find that could harm him? Why the note?
I am becoming increasingly uneasy about keeping this journal. I've already incriminated myself on trespassing and bribery charges but now I have this unknown menace that disposed of my predecessor. What if the same thing happens to me? Maybe I'm being silly, this was fifty years ago. Maybe Stahl was being overly dramatic.
On the other hand, it makes me feel better to write about these things. I'll just have to hide this carefully.
Jul 14 – Not sure what to say first. I've unearthed some dangerous material here and it's potentially deadly. There's a group at work here that are mixed up in a number of nefarious plots. To have evidence of such things or to even suspect them is volatile in itself.
First, from local sources as well as police reports from decades ago there appears to be an underground drug trafficking ring either based out of Silent Hill or very close by. Second, the Stone and Archibolt names keep popping up. Third and most disturbing in my mind all of this is somehow related to Jacob Stahl's disappearance and his occult investigations. Without the training to see the patterns one can miss the signs but I see recurring themes stretching back more than a hundred years.
It breaks down like this: nearly all of the arrests on drug charges, related crimes and extortion are either associates or family members of the two local clans or the events took place in buildings owned by them. See, they're careful like that, not to have their names on deeds or to be fingered during questioning.
Now these families are among the oldest still living in Silent Hill. Their genealogy can be traced back hundreds of years if one looks. This was one of the main reasons Stahl was interested in them in the first place. He wanted diaries, family heirlooms, stories and family legends. His research painted them as the keepers of Silent Hill lore. This wasn't his true goal though, oh no. He wanted those ceremonies, the rituals from bygone days and was hoping he could get them from either the Stones or the Archibolts. That plan seemed to backfire, didn't it Jake? Drug smugglers don't take kindly to their past being investigated.
There is one thing I am curious about. Stahl mentions a young lady that had recently married out of the family in his time. He gloated about buying a dusty old book from her that turned out to be a family tree. I don't know where he hid the damn thing but he said with it he could find who last had "it". No description, no idea of what it was, just "it". I think that's what got him killed.
Feels good to have this written down, in case something happens to me. I certainly didn't expect any of this but I have to know how far down the rabbit hole goes.
Jul 16 – Was definitely not alone at the Historical Society last night. I can't rely on ambiguity anymore. Getting some protection.
Jul 18 – I loaded up. Had to drive two counties away to get what I wanted. Picked up a pretty bitchin' taser, a can of pepper spray and a kick ass looking knife set that slings over your chest. I don't know whose been shadowing me or why but a feel a lot safer with this stuff. I looked at a lot of guns too but I've never used one and I'm nervous about showing anyone around here my ID. Criminals get them without all the red tape right? I'm sure I can if I have to. Hope it doesn't come to that. The knife thing is cool but it's some ninja crap I hope no one finds out I can't even use. Probably end up stabbing myself before actually hitting someone with them.
Jul 20 – Bit more dirt on the Stones. Looks like they had a lot of property to sell when an epidemic wracked Silent Hill and the town was repurposed as a penal colony. They also appear to have helped finance the Brookhaven hospital way back when. A coincidence that makes me worry.
Jul 22 – Come across some interesting material here on a woman named Jennifer Carroll. Apparently there's a memorial dedication to her in the park that I'll have to check out. Doesn't say why it was raised but we'll see what I can dig up.
Jul 23 – No help from the memorial but there are some interesting dates and times to note. The park was built in 1845 and according to Stahl the Carroll woman was burned at the stake in 1692. Someone kept her memory and that event alive for a hundred and fifty years at least.
Jul 25 – Jennifer Carroll was a woman tried and executed for being a witch but exonerated tragically, posthumously. The case is unusual for a couple of reasons. The local priest at the time was a man named Arthur Archibolt (no coincidence there) and being burned alive was becoming something of an uncommon practice as the years went on. Carroll's death was the same year as the infamous Salem witch trials but the method died out rather quickly in the next century. I would say bad luck on Carroll's part but with a Archibolt lurking in the background I'm not so sure it was just misfortune.
I'm close to finding the truth here. It's not going to be lost this time. Not again. The secrets of this town are well buried but the past is an open book to a careful historian.
Jul 27 – Almost done in the Society and it's a good thing. All the relevant data I've copied down or simply taken, consequences be damned. I'll need to keep a low profile from here on out – no more fraternizing with the locals. I'll get groceries and other things over in Brahams and only travel at night.
Jul 28 – I'm such a dupe! I had forgotten completely about my own notes, a cardinal sin in my profession. Jacob Stahl is buried in town, what luck! It was before the county owned the property and they're bound by law not to disturb the people already interred. His grave is in a secluded spot and I know with far too much certainty that the grave keeper goes home at 8. I'll have to get some supplies but I need to exhume Stahl. How he died, any information I can glean about his family or where he lived would be invaluable to avoiding his fate.
Jul 30 – Better than I could have ever hoped for.
I'll start from the dig up. It went well and I finished in a few hours. I was honestly prepared with gloves, a suit, all kinds of gear for a late night, impromtu autopsy. Turns out ol' Jake was a craftier son of a bitch than I thought. His coffin, made of stone and not wood, contained no body but a trove of books carefully wrapped in waterproof tarps. It took me several minutes of tricky positioning to ease them out of their fifty year slumber but I was excited beyond words.
Thanks to Tom Bulger I knew exactly how to cover up the entire incident. I cut out the sod on top and carefully piled the sediment layers for when I replaced them. A ghastly man but his ramblings ironically turned out to be useful in helping fool him. Someone who looks closely will see evidence of tampering but only for a week or so until the soil rights itself.
Turning my basement into a repository for my finds. I haven't cracked them open yet but getting everything cataloged and ordered shouldn't take long.
Aug 5 – The pages are remarkably well preserved and it's a good thing Stahl had the foresight to use the materials he did. What he left for me is simply out of this world. While the Society had his notes, general reports and investigations this was the priceless meat of his true work: the rituals he sought after and likely died for were all painstakingly recorded in these tomes. If that wasn't shock enough he had also dabbled in other types of occult and arcana research. The greatest revelation so far was his admission that his unnamed source was in fact none other than Jennifer Carroll.
Things are clicking into place. Both were almost pathologically interested in the Pre-Columbian rituals only Carroll was in a much better historical vantage point to get them without the toxic effect of time. Both undoubtedly ran into the powerful families that have dominated the town since it's inception. Both presumably met their ends uncovering unsavory truths.
Of course there's a few insights one can gather from this. I'm going to be in the same position they were if I continue. Stahl obviously knew his time was running out and I strongly suspect that Carroll did too. I'm in too deep now though to accede to my own cowardice. There are times in your life when what's right is more important than your own safety.
Aug 21 – These books are no joke. A lot of it is blood magic, evil sorcerer kind of stuff but just as much is concerned with good harvests, rain and other manipulation of the physical world. Stahl, astoundingly, considered all of this legitimate. There's a number of minor hexes to harass enemies and others to make someone more receptive to your amorous advances. Funny thing is the nature of these exchanges are often quid pro quo. Example: "This particular incantation requires a blood sacrifice of several large animals (like a bear or deer) or preferably human children. This ensures the destruction of your enemy's harvest."
Stahl's callous attitude towards human sacrifice aside, the entire thing is absurd. Imagine killing a child just to cross your fingers that someone's corn will die off? This is the realm of "psychic" tarot card readers and crystal ball fortune tellers. I know it was 1931 but come on. In all of his work Stahl comes off as an expert researcher and bright man. I find it hard to believe the same person who wrote the treatises I found in the Society the loon brusquely explaining how to make clay figurines of your foes. Did he really die for this nonsense?
Sept 3 – I'm getting deeper into this than I ever expected. From a historical viewpoint these tomes constitute a rare archive of magic rituals that any university would drool over. The part I cannot reconcile is Stahl's complete and utter conviction that any of this will work. This is the domain of fools and religious nutjobs who think that somehow their "magic" is any less made up than the myths of the major world religions.
Sept 4 – A large section of Stahl's main grimoire (by Jove I feel silly even writing that) is dedicated to one time, temporary spells he refers to as 'wards'. According to him they are mystic symbols and words put on paper combined with chants that produce real life effects. Gone are the quid pro quo offerings of the other rituals but Stahl theorized that "the user's own life force and fervent belief is what pays for the ward".
Heavy material and a bit esoteric but his research prowess makes it easy to understand. He records the exact images, symbols and words needed to deploy the wards. Interestingly once fully mastered one no longer needs to speak the words if they can be thought of instead. While some of the imagery is unmistakably European much of the symbols and nearly all of the words are Native American. On paper they are unintelligible strings of letters but here Stahl has inserted phonetic lines for exact pronunciation. The man might have been a little crazy but he was an unparalleled mind.
Sept 5 – It occurred to me last night that I may have been on the wrong track. All this time I have assumed that Jacob Stahl was a fellow historian merely interested in local superstition. While that is entirely possible I am wondering if this is not the whole truth. What if he was primarily interested in the rituals of the area not from a research point of view but from one of power? Could he have been – I can't believe I'm writing this – an aspiring magician or medicine man trying to awaken the spirits of old?
Whatever the case he at least had the foresight to bury his most important work before his aggressors buried him. I'm convinced the Stone and Archibolt families had something to do with it. Could their witch hunting ways have survived all this time into the 20th century?
Something else is off. Stahl cites Carroll as his primary source of both history and grimoire magic. Where is this original book or books? All of the tomes in the coffin were written by Stahl – I know his handwriting too well by this point. I postulate that the family heirloom the young acquaintance sold to him had something to do with this. Possibly the "it" he spoke of or something more valuable than the spells he so badly wanted?
Sept 7 – All right, maybe I've been cooped up in this basement too long but I have to know. I going to try some of Stahl's wards. I have no idea how to make the custom ones that in theory provide limitless applications but he left an extensive list of starter wards and their effects. I've chosen one I can practice without being disturbed and the effects will be simple to confirm or not. It's a simple ward to light something on fire. All I have to do is copy the ward down perfectly and speak the words. It should then ignite whatever I aim the ward at. I know, I know. This is patently insane. I'll try it anyway just for Jake's memory.
Sept 9 – Two days of wasting reams of paper has gotten me nowhere. I need a lot of practice but I'm sure I made at least two perfect copies that did, predictably, squat. I admit sitting in my basement chanting words at a paper on top of a stack of magazines is plain strange if not downright mad.
It's my birthday soon. Maybe I'll take some time off and just plan for dropping all this garbage off at a museum somewhere.
Sept 17 – Found a problem with my experiments. After reviewing Stahl's instructions I came across a short excerpt I must have missed or glossed over earlier. He mentions that no ordinary paper will work but a specially processed kind that had to be, and he was adamant about this, made in the fall. In addition it had to be hand made, special symbols carved into the trunk before felling the free and the entire process punctuated by prayer. He also specifies that the trees have, have, have to be local. No foreign lumber will do, the closer to Lake Toluca the better.
Won't be too hard to sneak into the woods to find a tree to saw down but the paper making thing is going to be a pain. Not only will I need special equipment but Stahl mentions that no one should know about the operation. Don't know why this is a factor but I'll not question keeping my head down. I'll order the equipment from the outside and bring it in myself.
Sept 30 – While waiting for my equipment I've been practicing wards. I've even managed to memorize some of the simpler ones that also accordingly have the most minimal effects.
Physically I feel better with all this spare time to eat and sleep but my head aches have persisted. I've probably lost ten pounds or so but I'm less concerned about my health than I should be I guess.
Oct 1 – Stuff's here. Getting it set up today, making paper tomorrow.
Oct 3 – What a pain. Had no idea this was such a process.
Oct 4 – Impossible. Impossible. It works. Gods high above on the mountain top and below under the earth, it works. I can't even...I can't even tell you. This changes everything, not just for me but for everyone, ever. Where do I even start...
Coming back to write later. I'll just put down what happened I'm so jittery. I wrote the ward on the thrice blessed paper exactly the way I should have. Sitting back I read the words and cast the paper at a stack of sacrificial magazines. The paper hit them and disintegrated into a fire that lit the magazines ablaze like I'd doused them in gasoline and threw a match on it. I wasted two precious sheets due to my shaking hands as I tried to repeat the experiment. I did it three times to be sure.
I hope that I've truly gone insane down here and am only imagining the results. I'll keep making paper while it's still in season but I have to test their effects on other people outside the house to make sure I haven't completely lost it. If I'm not a psychotic lunatic then there's a few problems going on.
First, the metaphysical is real. This confirms a ten billion theories and looney ramblings since the dawn of time. Everything we think is meaningless in the face of actual magic that works, and works well.
Second, if this simple ward works then there are many more that work as well. This is a much more frightening implication given that some of Stahl's rituals can be used to bring "great evil" into the world. He believed the most powerful could augment one's lifespan or in the most forbidden of magics, bring the dead back to life.
Lastly, I cannot be the only practitioner on the planet. Carroll was one and Stahl an authority as well. How many others have their been? How many today, right now? I see now the importance of secrecy in paper making. Someone who watching for the signs would have known exactly what I was doing. I suspect the ruling families and their proclivity for witch burnings drove our kind underground or stamped them out completely.
It's a good time to get myself a gun.
Oct 6 – Making paper at a fever pitch. I have around the rest of the month so I'm going to have to cut down another tree to have enough to play with. The papers have to be perfectly straight and intact until casting so storage is also going to be a consideration.
Oct 7 – The wards work outside the house. I blew out a motorist's tire at a stop light, smashed a store front window and flipped over a table in front of people who responded normally to the situations (even if they had no idea what was going on). Then I worked with an invisibility ward (it's really an attention diverting ward) that I used to hide a dollar bill in plain sight. Worked my way up to a hundred dollar bill posted right above a crosswalk button that at least twenty people looked right at. Amazing.
Oct 8 – Gone through almost every ward Stahl recorded and barring a few that are exceptionally more complex than the others I can do them all with time and practice. One in particular intrigues me. It is the work of a master for sure (erasing all doubts of Stahl's competence). It is meant for something extremely specific, hence all the extra work put into it. I can tell it's for finding this mystery object but cannot yet decipher more than that. It's going to take me a couple of days to reproduce it.
Oct 10 – Nailed it. The ward does indeed show me where to go – led me all across town to a mansion. Not just any mansion but one owned by the Stone family. This worries me greatly. The ward was made presumably before Stahl's disappearance in 1931. Whatever he was tracking was at least that old and still existed in the family's possession.
I don't mind admitting that I am scared. Going in there would be like heading into the belly of the beast. If this is the "it" my late mentor spoke of then I expect it is something monumental.
If something happens to me then consider this journal my last will and testament. You, dear reader, are heir to all of the knowledge gained by myself and my predecessors. I will copy the wards from Stahl's books and rebury his work. I'll hide this journal in the house and cover my tracks but place a tracking ward in the grave with the other materials so you might find it.
Wish me luck.
Oct 14 – The Stones are having a house party and some insipid banquet in a couple of days. I will strike then. My wards will be ready. I walked into the bank today and went behind the counter to steal a pen from the back office to make sure the invisibility ward worked.
Oct 16 – I don't know where to start. I'll try to sum up. Dammit old man, just write it already. I found "it". I also killed a man to get it.
I'm a ball of nerves, a wreck. I've vomited twice. I can't do this. I'll have to write later.
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All right. I've calmed down. I think.
The Stones invited half the town to their damn party. With an attention deflecting ward I strolled in and headed deeper into the mansion away from everyone, led by Stahl's ward.
I entered the large basement where they stored old furniture and antiques crammed together like a warehouse. Going past a well stocked wine cellar I was led to a trap door and went down a ladder into pure darkness. It smelled like mold and at the bottom and I couldn't see a thing. Feeling my way around I found a large wooden door I opened without hesitation.
Things happened all at once that I did not expect. Passing through the threshold of the door I heard and felt my ward crumble to pieces. Inside I found an antechamber that was a sort of reliquary for many old items and past it was what looked like a drug lab. Unfortunately for me it was not unguarded. There was a man there as surprised to see me as I was him. He saw the taser in my hand and went for something but I jumped at him and got him the in neck. Searching him I found the gun he was going for and almost threw up right then.
I didn't know what to do. He had seen my face and although infrequent I wasn't unknown in the state. The taser didn't knock him out and I kept shocking him but I was panicking. Grabbing an old carpet I laid it across the back of his head and put the barrel to it. I shot. The sound didn't make too much noise. I threw up on his body.
The antechamber wasn't big but loaded with vases, paintings, expensive and old stuff that was probably worth money. Looking around me I found what had destroyed my ward. Across the door's threshold masterful runes had been inscribed – I didn't recognize them but their purpose was painfully apparent to me. Thanks to them both my ward and Stahl's had been broken, smashed to pieces by the ward breakers.
I was crying and sick to my stomach but I had to move. Ransacking the room I found a small bookshelf hidden underneath an old dresser. Flipping the books open and expecting someone to walk in any minute I had to check everything that was there. The first four were garbage, meaningless tomes but skimming through the last I saw wards and knew that this was what I was looking for. I hadn't the time to make another attention ward to get out safely nor the ability to concentrate – I was losing it. I hurried out of that terrible place with the book in my shirt and for sure people saw me leave.
I've already destroyed everything I was wearing. Spent an hour and a half in the shower staring at the wall. I can't eat, can't sleep. The diary is in the basement. I don't want to even touch it. I'm considering getting in my car and never coming back to Silent Hill ever again. I'm too scared to even leave the house. Any moment now I'm waiting for the police come knocking. I know I should run but I can't work up the courage to walk outside. What have I done?
Oct 19 – It's been three days. I ventured out early in the morning to get the papers from the last few days. Came home and read them cover to cover. No mention of a murder, no missing persons investigations, nothing. It was like it never happened. I can't believe it. They covered it up themselves. They are a dangerous clan.
Still haven't touched the book. I'm half convinced that it contains nothing but cooking recipes.
Oct 21 – Finally mustered the courage to read it. Turns out to have been a diary and at the same time exactly what I thought it was. Something worth killing over. Which I have done. I have killed someone. That's right, write it down a few more times. This never ceases to escape me. It haunts me at night. I see his pained eyes before I pull the trigger. It's horrible.
Enough. I must continue.
The diary is fairly innocent at first (like mine). A number of pages go by before I realize how old it is. The language is antiquated, proper, the pages ancient, almost falling apart in my fingers. Then the person writing names herself, Jennifer. It all comes to me. This is Jennifer Carroll's personal diary...and she last wrote in it close to three hundred years ago. I could not fathom how such a precious object had escaped destruction over the long centuries but all would be explained.
Carroll was cursed with high intelligence and insatiable curiosity. She was intensely interested in the Native American rituals before her time and sought to use them to elevate herself. Her desire for forbidden knowledge led her to certain elements of what she later refers to as 'the Order' – a pseudo-Christian-apocalypse sect that was founded in her era. It would appear that the case against her being a witch was well founded. She speaks of her "heretical tutelage" over the course of years when she and the group found each other.
Beginning with her arranged marriage into the Archibolt family to a dim, surly man she despised Carroll narrates with surprising candor her rise in their ranks as an 'adept' of wards and runes. In need of allies and recruits they were happy to take in a someone as proficient as her even though in her words she was "but a lowly house wife". She loathed everything about her new family but could not stop learning from them either. To my surprise the Order members were mostly Stones and Archibolts! I cannot reconcile this discovery. They had not orchestrated Carroll's death because she was a witch – they were as guilty as she was! Incredible.
Allowed into their libraries and archives she did much of the same work Stahl and I have done. During her time she steadily uncovered – and recorded to my shock – a pattern of conspiracies and deceit that started back to the town's founding. Over the years the Stones – who she surmised were the brains of the operation – and Archibolts had used every dirty trick in the book to buy, cajol or otherwise acquire control of much of the town's property. They used legal intimidation, extortion, crooked loans, blackmail and outright murder to achieve their goals. There were a couple of epidemics in the town's history...I wonder who stood to profit from those with their names on deeds all over the city?
This book was a damning narrative; I wondered why it hadn't been destroyed long ago. Carroll herself knew that getting caught with her wards would mean her death at the hands of the rest of the town but it seemed that she also feared the Stones. She stated, not without a measure of pride, that she was the single greatest practitioner among their black flock and I believe her. Still she was treated always a junior member and second class citizen due to being female. Ridiculed for speaking out of turn and made to do menial chores when she could turn any of them into dust she said "as my knowledge grows so too has my wrath". Hating her brothers for her mistreatment and forced servitude she collected evidence against them as her skills surpassed the others but she feared for her life. And, history shows, not without good reason.
To this end she crafted her masterpieces shortly before her death. The first was a charm made from the bones of a crow and a wooden totem based on actual artifacts she unearthed herself. This lone crest was the last word in ward breaking – Carroll claimed that it would not only defeated any already it place but rendered ward attacks on her null and void. The second was a powerful enchantment that – get this – drew power directly from her life force. Its purpose? The indestructibility of this diary. Each day it sapped her vitality and her murderers unwittingly completed the seal by burning her at the stake.
If there was any doubt of the skills of Carroll, one need look no farther than the book in my hands. Though the pages looked frail and brittle you couldn't mar the pages with a hammer. I tried to no effect. I could probably use it as a bullet proof vest.
When the diary ended for a few pages rather abruptly but then picked up at the end. I was amazed to discover Stahl's handwriting at the very end of the book. He updated the progress he'd made on the crimes that carried over to present time in 1931 and probably could be taken to court today. Clever Stahl added his ordinary pages in between the others – one could not denigrate the book any more than one could destroy it, hence adding pages instead of putting notes in. Here I found the tracking rune he had placed in the book and where better to put it than in between indestructible leaves?
I have to spend some time thinking about this. It's a lot to take in.
Oct 24 – I've spent the last few days reading the diary over and over. I think I've figured out what happened to Carroll. She mentioned being watched and assumed it was a nosy townsperson but I have a different hypothesis. I think the Stones sold her out to the rest of the town. Remember how her original family exonerated her after her death? I think her adopted one killed her off. Maybe they didn't want her ruling over them, maybe they found her diary but I'm convinced the Order was responsible for her death one way or the other.
I've decided that I have to act. Too long the many sins of the people here have gone unpunished. I have grown to greatly admire Jennifer Carroll and her courage as well as her skill as an adept. Stahl as well, my teachers from beyond the grave both likely killed by the ruling faction here. I am certain that they gave their lives so I could follow in their footsteps. Not just anyone, me, right here, right now. Almost three hundred years later, she will have justice.
Oct 28 - My plan is beginning to form. I shall infiltrate the Stone drug operation and gain enough of their trust to bring them down from the inside. If I can work for them long enough maybe I can also get access to their grimoires though I suspect I'll have to put on my cuckoo hat and pretend to be as into their religion as they are. I can safely say that no one got a good look at me the night I crashed their party. Although it goes against my personal beliefs the best way I can think of is to start buying their drugs and positioning myself as a dealer. I'll have to dip into my inheritance, maybe even clean it out. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. Worth it.
Nov – Doing some scouting. Taking notes on the comings and going of the families, keeping track of their movements, etc.
Dec – I'm turning into a vampire. I only go out at night and carry around with me a number of sheets to defend myself and stay hidden. If I get a desire for blood we're going to have problems. Haven't' really felt like writing much. I have a tendency to reread what I wrote and I don't like reliving that man's death.
Merry Xmas!
Jan 5 – Have a lot of info on the happenings here. If the Stones don't want to kill me for stealing Carroll's diary then they will for me spying on them.
Jan 17 – It's occurred to me that I'm going to need a hideout. Not only that but a fake name as well. There's a certain power in knowing someone's true name – this much Stahl was certain of. As he is my mentor I will defer to his wisdom on this matter.
Jan 25 – Picked out a good spot for my base. The land was cheap and construction starts soon. Now all I need is a druggie alter ego.
Feb 4 – I'm leaving Silent Hill for a bit. It's good that I'm a shut in by nature – no one really knows me, not even my neighbors. As far as most people know I'm rarely home or leave the house – definitely okay with either assumption.
Feb 7 – There's an old, local legend about giant, man eating monsters not unlike the Wendigo of other myths. They were once humans but their hearts turned to ice because of their terrible crimes. They were called "Kewahqu" (keh-wah-kwoo) and it is a fitting metaphor. My ancestry is a bit more south of the border but I can pass for a mixed brown person just about anywhere.
Feb 20 – Hideout's underway. Can't risk putting it's location here – even though this journal is heavily warded once found it would only take time and effort to break into.
I've thought up a name: Daniel Kewahqu, tribal orphan and lover of trips. Not too far from the truth. The orphan part I mean.
March 10 – Not much to report. Construction's coming along nicely.
Apr 7 – This journal turns 1! Had I any idea what I was getting myself into a year ago...
Jun 20 – Practicing wards and the much more difficult runes as I wait. The runes are the ones that are malleable and can be shaped to fit your needs. Tons more difficult to get right but almost limitless in scope.
Jul 5 – Not a lot going on. I feel a bit home sick for Silent Hill. Strange isn't it?
August – Took a break from wards and runes to make a little back story for Daniel. Not sure exactly how I'm going to pull this off but disabling their operation is going to require some serious acting.
Sept – It's done and with a year or two of grass growing the place should be next to impossible to find. I'll have a proper place to flee to should I need it. I actually need to move a lot of my stuff there from the basement – too much incriminating, sensitive information to be found by anyone.
Nov – Starting the buys. Made from a local plant they call it PVT – some fancy acronym for the junk. I told them I rarely trip myself but have a dedicated fan base I sell to. Doesn't hurt that they think I'm talking about folks on a rez.
Dec – Gaining notice from my contacts.
Jan 20 – Things are going smoothly. I'm buying – and flushing – thousands in drug money. The fact that this crap is this popular bothers me. Kids these days...
Feb 15 – Making progress. Can't rush these things but I've hinted that I wouldn't mind working for them full time.
Apr 20 – Big news. Things have gone very, very well. Faster than I'd hoped. They want me to move into the Stone mansion and start working for them full time. This presents a quandary as I have to pretend to still be selling but I have no customers to turn over to my new friends. I tell them that my people won't trust anyone else.
I was introduced to an old man named Saul, Saul Stone to be exact. He was eyeing me funny but I'd never seen him before. Scared me, hadn't been back in the mansion since the incident and I was jumpy.
Jul 28 – I understand now what was going on when I first moved here. After months of being a good little pusher they started setting me up for something more. At first it was innocent questions about spirituality and religion. Knowing full well what they were all about I was ambivalent and even added that I believed in spirits. Music to their ears.
I was introduced formally to the Order. Their beliefs, core values and what not. I couldn't believe how forthcoming they were being but in retrospect they had me dead to rights if I freaked out. It was the old man, Saul, who introduced me and showed me around their chapel.
He then asked me about magic and I mentioned medicine men but he only laughed. He then showed me a ward and used it to knock a door down right in front of me! I had to act suitably shocked of course as Daniel Kewahqu would have been by his little demonstration. That's when he told me I had "the touch", the ability to cast wards and use runes. It was something they screened for and was apparently rare. I assumed incorrectly that anyone could use them given the right amount of practice. The wards, I found out with genuine astonishment, did not work outside of Silent Hill either.
This was what they used to keep their business running smoothly. Some of what Saul showed me was I confess too complex even for me. But I'm a patient and attendant student and as eager to learn as they are to teach.
Jul 30 – They branded me with a sigil, a sign of the Order to show my dedication. I happily accepted of course, I'd do anything to gain their confidence.
Relieved of my drug trafficking duties (thankfully!) I was put into 'class' with Saul and two other trainees. Their names are Doug and Marcus, both a bit younger than me. One is a little portly and I'm told loves his booze while the other is monstrously withdrawn and a little easy to tick off. We all study under Saul who is the Stone clan's master and by extension the most proficient of the Order as well. The position is known informally as the 'Fater' and was once reserved only for Stone patriarchs. Time and dwindling recruits have relaxed the criteria somewhat as Saul is actually only half Stone and not a particularly high ranking priest. He's approaching sixty-five though and there aren't many of us with the touch around.
It seems to me that there's three kinds of clan members around. The majority of them who either don't know or don't care about the Order and it's dealings, ones privy to the drug running and/or a part of it and Order members fully devoted to their religion and, simultaneously, their profits.
For now I have to be like them and pretend that money matters to me as much as my studies.
June 6 – This will be my last journal entry for a bit. Saul is taking personal charge of my day to day activities and I can't afford to have him find this. I will continue my training and bide my time.
Dec 4 – Woo, long time no see. Training's gone well and I've learned some interesting facts.
First is that long ago a number of the natives gathered together here regularly. The holy power of the area – called the Place of Silent Spirits by them – had been corrupted by the 'coming evil' of the settling pilgrims. The selfish invaders had triggered what could best be translated as "the anger of the land" no doubt by profaning Silent Hill with their settlements and wanton logging. Their spiritual home began to turn hostile and with their numbers falling thanks to the advancing colonists the native leaders made a decision. Taking their most gifted shamans and strongest blood magic they offered themselves to the old gods that this anger not ruin the area for their children. The terrible emanations of the growing power gathering here were sealed away by the natives at a horrific cost circa 1600.
What would happen if the seal is broken? Is this the source of Silent Hill's power? What would the wrath of centuries of colonization be like unleashed? I admit I am fascinated.
There's more. I have learned that in the belief structure of the sometimes pseudo-Christian, sometimes occult Order there is a recurring theme of bringing God into the world. I thought at first this meant spreading their particular brand of crazy but I'm convinced they mean this literally. There is a ritual, easily one of the oldest they have, called the Descent of the Holy Mother and the 21 Sacraments. It is a doomsday prophecy that actually sounds fairly simple to pull off – if you can call the ritual murder of 21 people simple – but the devil's in the details. No one really knows how to do it anymore. Supposedly the full ritual was recorded in a red book somewhere but lost to antiquity. Both Stahl and Carroll confirm this if I remember right but neither had any proof it really existed.
The idea of the Holy Mother, by the way, changes depending on what sect you ascribe to but get this – a majority of the Order believes that Jennifer Carroll was a saint. She's even referred to as the leading candidate for the Holy Mother reborn. I now understand why the Stones kept "it" tucked away all of these years instead of putting it in their chapel with the rest of their 'relics'. Who knows what kind of holy war would erupt if the rest of the Order found out a Stone had a hand in her demise?
I suspect though that the incident is simply so old that appearance has become fact and not even the Stone family knows anymore that they were responsible for her death. Unfortunately for them, I remember. I always remember.
Dec 10 – Asked Saul about the Descent ritual. He said it was a lost myth taught to children that may have never existed in the first place but welcomed me to search for any information. I think he takes my interest as fervency which I am okay with.
Dec 11 – I found a passage in the archives that mentions the items needed for the ritual but not much else. The red book I keep hearing about, a black goblet made of obsidian (good luck finding one of those laying around) and "the whitest of wine". When I asked Saul about it he laughed and said those items either faded into obscurity or never existed in the first place. I dropped it but the old man was lying. He's hiding something, I know it.
Dec 14 - Searching for the book anyway. Have to be discreet – Saul's old but he's still sharp as a tack.
Dec 25 – Happy holidays, journal. Won't be able to write much.
Jul 15 – Boy, haven't seen you in a while. We've got a lot to talk about.
I've been allowed more or less autonomy by the Fater and by proxy the rest of the Order. I've killed another three people. All were necessary but one was regrettably innocent. I should be more bothered by this but given what I've seen and done it doesn't. The first two were drug dealers in the area that weren't our people. I've learned why they've been so generous about training me – I'm to act as the Order's supernatural enforcers whenever hits need to be made here. I'm all too happy to prove my devotion to them, in fact, these hits have greatly solidified my status. I guess using wards to kill people is basically your initiation.
The third person was actually an Archibolt family member. He mentioned when he met me that he thought he recognized me from somewhere, maybe a party. I thought no one had gotten a good look at me the night I reclaimed Jennifer's journal but he had. While he didn't ID me I know that one errant conversation with the wrong person meant my doom. I kidnapped him and left a note about having girlfriend troubles (he was married). I killed him with a syringe of drain fluid and buried him in the woods. I hope he didn't suffer.
Aug 8 – Saul is becoming suspicious of me, I think. Perhaps he sees through my false adoration for the Order and their goals. Can't have that, one word from him and I'm dead. I'll have to strike first...going to poison him tonight. Potassium chloride, same stuff they use for lethal injections. Saul's getting up there in age – don't think anyone's going to make a fuss over his death.
Aug 9 – Saul never woke up last night. Tragic. At least now I can research in peace. No one bothers an adept in these parts, no one who knows what we can do anyway.
Aug 22 – Unexpected development. I've been promoted to the clan's Fater. It was likely a hurried decision but it was really down to me or Marcus – the Doug kid apparently really has an alcohol problem. My former classmate Marcus, though better qualified and blood related, is a bit too awkward to lead and apparently has been 'disciplined' for skimming a little profit off the top.
I've also been charged with keeping up the tracking runes on the Order member's wrists. That's right, the brand they make you get can be used to locate anyone. Marvelous. I'm in the best possible position to carry out my plans. No one questions a clan's Fater and certainly not the Stones'. They view us almost like lab scientists playing with laser guns – a strange bunch but not the kind you want mad at you.
Ceremony for me tomorrow. Most of the Order is going to show up for it and I expect a few red hooded attendants to christen me with my new title. Great spirits, if they only knew.
Aug 24 – They moved me into larger and better quarters to commemorate my new role. The girl moving in Saul's personal library actually asked me "where I wanted all this junk". I almost killed her on general principle. Junk? The mysteries of the universe come unraveled in those books. The ignorance of these people.
Aug 29 – Possibly the most important day of my life.
I found it. And little wonder why it has eluded me all these years – the old man had it all along. Stashed among the "sacred texts" reserved for the Fater alone was the red book, the Crimson Ceremony. Additionally there were books on mastering runes, the hardest but most rewarding of all Silent Hill magic. Not only do I know now how to execute the Descent but what I will need. It now begs the question – if this was meant to bring about the end of the the world then why hasn't the Order managed to pull it off yet? I suspect that earthly domination is and has always been their goal. It would take a true believer – a psychopath really – to do this ritual with no guarantee of what it promises.
Aug 30 – There's something here that I am intensely interested in. The Descent, the 21 Sacraments, they are the 21 murders one must do to bring God to Earth. But there's a bit of a catch – okay, a monster of a catch. The 11th murder is called the Assumption, because, well, your task is to murder yourself and assume a new form. Mind you the texts fully expect you to continue the Sacraments after you're dead or "released from the bonds of flesh"! I can only imagine we are talking about immortality here.
This represents a monumental shift in my strategy here. I still want to bring down the Order but...what if I can do it posthumously? All the data relevant now will be relevant later. Surely if I can kill people after I'm dead I can drop off all my notes, reports and evidence at the police station as well?
Sept 7 – More details. With my position here inviolate I can research whatever I want to my heart's content. I will need the 'black cup', that obsidian chalice I mentioned earlier and the 'whitest of wine' which I still haven't found much information about. I've looked into local wineries but many of them specialize in berry, apple and pear wines i.e. red wines. I suspect that this is not a literal translation as the making of wine is not a native activity. The Ceremony is far older than Europeans on American soil; I doubt they were stomping grapes when conquistadors showed up.
Sept 20 – Missed my birthday again. Getting less important as I get older.
Listen to this passage: "The beauty of the withering flower and the struggles of the dying man, they are my blessings."
Our cash crop PTV is made from the hallucinogenic seeds of the White Claudia plant though we distribute it in powder form. Every reference made to what I need calls it "wine", "mist", "oil". Getting a hold of White Claudia will be no problem but I'm not fully convinced it's what I'm after.
Oct 7 – Nailed it. Found a book that noted the hallucinogenic properties of White Claudia (and thus PVT) were "key" in the native rituals from the area. Followed up on the info and landed a meeting with Sandra Kimumu, an expert of local Passamaquoddy history. According to her there existed a powerful smoke that was produced by first making an oil that was then thrown onto a fire to produce a cloud of ultra potent toxin. The shamans would become "entranced" and have visions.
The origin of the oil was supposed to be mythological but I know better. I've found two of the three things I need to finish the Assumption. What then, when I find the last one? I can definitely come up with a list of ten people who deserve to die – pushers and cultists all – but what if I'm wrong? What if nothing happens? This possibility troubles me greatly.
Nov 10 – Getting closer to the Cup. Last confirmed in the hands of a Valtiel rune master in 1822. Name was Joseph Lallott. I'll keep digging.
Dec 5 – Idiot! Forgot about my own notes again! Lallott was buried across town. Time to visit my old friend.
Dec 6 – Despite our earlier understanding, Bulger wasn't very happy to see me. He was aggressive, belligerent and threatened to call the police. I stunned him with a ward and shot him in the back of the head. Exhuming Lallott (man, am I getting too used to dealing with bodies) I found the bones of the long dead Fater still clutching the Obsidian Chalice. Nearly cried with joy. I buried the grave keeper in with my predecessor to satisfy my sense of irony and took home my prize.
Dec 15 – I've had a few days to think it over, rolling the Cup in my hands. It's heavy, heavier than it looks. Has to be, I guess. I have to fit the blood of 11 people and some PVT oil in it. I'm laying here in bed, knowing that I can start the Sacraments whenever I want to. I've even been day dreaming about how I'm going to take my victims.
I think a lot about Jennifer Carroll, Jacob Stahl and the countless others the Order has hurt over the centuries. Not to mention the natives who came long before them and whose genocide this country was built on. I'm reading what I can about the great seal placed here long ago and the "anger of the land". I want to look more into this as well as see if I can discern the resting places of Carroll and Stahl. They deserve more than just a creaky old statue in a park.
Dec 25 – Another year? Getting old, old man. Not that this may matter anyway.
Feb 2 – Have a lead on Carroll. Her family apparently was greatly disturbed by her death (how they managed to exonerate her when I know for a fact she was what they would deem a witch I'll never know) and wealthy as well. I imagine her arranged marriage was supposed to be an alliance of sorts that went up in smoke (haha, very funny me). Good news is they have a fancy, old time private cemetery.
Feb 3 – Scoped the place out. I don't like leaving Silent Hill anymore – feel naked with my wards – but it was worth it. Breaking into her tomb I found something priceless: an urn. Her family must have collected her ashes when the burning was done to give her a proper burial. It's been waiting a long time for me to reclaim it.
Brought it home and put it in my room. I should be the one to keep her. There hasn't been a person alive in the last 250 years who knows her as well as I do.
Feb 5 – Funny thing happened the other day. Put a ward down by Jennifer's ashes and it fell apart on me. Was pretty sure I made it correctly – maybe I'm getting sloppy.
Feb 9 - The Order has gone too far this time. I am at a loss for words to describe what I have learned. This is big, Carroll's diary big. Going to have to calm down and assess the situation before I can write more. Gods.
Feb – My position has afforded me access to one of the Order's best kept and darkest secrets. As the Fater I could not be kept out of the loop forever though I'm impressed they've managed to keep it under wraps for the last six months.
A horrid woman named Dahlia Gillespie had her own child immolated in order to birth the Order's god. I was wrong, they have been trying to bring about this doomsday paradise and consistently failing. This would have been yet another in their long line mercifully over with had the girl not amazingly lived. When they showed her to me, where they were keeping her, pumped full of drugs, bed ridden, riddled with wards to keep her alive I almost lost it and killed them all. The mother, the nurse, the hospital director, all of them. But something stopped me, something better.
In her I felt something old, something powerful, angry. She had enormous potential but it was mostly trapped, contained, almost inert. I understand now. It was the seal of the old ones keeping her at bay. On this holy ground she could not wreak the kind of destruction her crippled body was capable of. Should that seal be lifted...this little girl, this innocent tortured on a daily basis by being forced to live would bring about a doom I cannot even fathom.
Feb 12 – Can't sleep. Keeping thinking about the Gillespie girl. I only wanted to make the Order pay for their crimes but...this is the last straw. Too many people were compliant in this atrocity. No one is worthy to keep going about their daily lives while this goes on.
I've decided. This will change Silent Hill, forever. There can be no turning back. I will perform the Assumption but no sacrament beyond it. At the same time I will break the seal on Silent Hill and the anger of the land will join with the powerful mind of the Gillespie girl. If nothing happens, then at least I tried. If something horrible happens it won't matter to me as I will have been the final sacrifice.
March – Moving forward.
April 2 – So, more talks with Sandra have led me to a simple conclusion. In her stories the magic encountered by native heroes was often undone with an equal incantation – an uncantation if you will. I know the seal here was made with blood magic, human sacrifice. So I'll craft what will be my greatest challenge yet – a ceremony to undo the seal with human sacrifice powering it. How many people? 211, to be exact. This, combined with my 10 victims and myself as the last will total 222, a mystic configuration.
I'm going to need a lot of cash and fortunately I have it. The rest I can steal – it won't matter if I'm caught. I'll have to deal with human trafficking scum to get that many people and I'll need a crew to assist me. We have mercenary contacts and as Fater I can pull whoever I need to help. Of course they will not know the the true nature of their task until the night in question and all of them – mercs and faithful alike – will be sacrificed as well.
April 4 – It's been almost seven months since I first had the idea in my head to really do the Assumption. It was, plainly, for my own benefit. To have the power of heaven in my hand. Now this task before me...this is different. This is not for me, this is for all those who came before and who will come after. It's for Jennifer, Jacob, everyone who has been wronged here in the past and the girl suffering in that hospital bed. She may judge them all with my blessing.
Apr 7 – Three years after I started this journal I begin the end of it. The date is set, September 12, 1985, the day of reckoning, my birthday in this world and soon the next. On midnight I will begin slitting throats of just over 200 slaves mostly from Africa, the Middle East and Brazil. Then my crew and then myself. It might take all night and well into the day but it must be done. I came here to write a book once and to sell a house. I've written a different book but one much more important than I ever dreamed.
Apr 14 – Things are being put into motion that can never be undone. I've commissioned a great stone altar to be made and delivered to me. It will be the instrument of five hundred years of holy vengeance and the platform where I will begin anew. I'm going to carve leaves into it...a hundred tiny leaves for the ones who will die upon it. May their souls nourish a tree far greater than themselves.
I must remember to avoid killing those which would fulfill the requirements of the Sacraments in the future. The purifications of Void, Gloom, Despair and the others must be avoided. Only plain, meaningless murders can be made which have no significance to me or to the victims. I also must regularly use similar killing methods; the Sacraments require varied deaths for one's reclaimed souls.
June 6 – My base will serve as the location. Ancient Mayans once tossed the dead in similar caverns called 'cenotes' – holy sinkholes for the dead that served as passages to the underworld. I honor my distant cousins by recreating their ways.
Upon the hill where the light descended, the Beast intoned his song. With words of blood, drops of mist and the vessel of night the grave become an open field. The people wept in fear and joy at the reunion but my faith in the salvation of Xuchilbara did not waver.
Harken to me now, Daniel Kewahqu, prince of Silent Hill, heir of Jennifer Carroll, steward of the misty land. I am the Fiend with twenty score men and seven thousand beasts. The grave, no, life and death are nothing to me. When I layeth my vengeful striking hammer down all will know salvation in fire.
In your honor Jennifer, guided by Stahl, born from the girl and loosed by my hand, let what we do never be undone.
My last days on Earth come quickly. I visit Jennifer in the park often. I dream of the day that we may be one. Soon, soon. It is not wistful sadness but joy that guideth me. I dream of my ten hearts, my ten sacraments, my ten true loves...
This journal will be rendered indestructible, like the 'Mother', dear Jennifer. Tied to my life it will be.
A warning and an offer, to you reading this. Should you get the urge to follow in my footsteps, know that I will be watching from the shadows. I am the Crimson One, the lies and mist are not they but I. I shall bring down bitter vengeance upon thee and thou shalt suffer my eternal wrath. Should you however wish to worship the misty land...believers, harken to me. Thou shalt ever call upon me and all that is me in the place that is silent.