A troubling package…

Something arrived in the mail today. It bears the same generic, fake return address as the previous letter.

This one contained three things: an elegant flyer, an old newspaper clipping and a small burlap pouch.

Immediately, the words on the flyer leaped out at me: The King in Yellow. Once again, another delivery from the same anonymous source. Just as my mind had resettled back into its previous routine and I had nearly forgotten about the blasted play, this falls into my lap. Mockingly, it pulled at my curiosity.

The newspaper clipping is very well preserved: obviously from a meticulous archivist. Whomever is sending me these things cares deeply about the subject matter.

The excerpt is that of a theater critic witnessing the delivery of flyers for the play. The language is old fashioned and authentic. Even with my erudition, several words were strange and foreign to me.

The burlap pouch… my fingers trembled as I undid the string. I debated for a while whether or not to actually see what was contained therein. What was happening to me? What horrors would I unleash down this rabbit hole?

The pendant fell heavily into my hand. The symbol was of a yellow ocher and mysteriously occult. It reminded me of the runes of the Demons of Goetia. What is this sign? What is its significance? Why is it burned into my mind, my soul? I was overwhelmed by a blend of dread and excitement.

On the flip side is another symbol. I get visions: tentacles reaching out to me from the void and canals on a strange planet: a world shrouded in unholy cosmic nebulae. Is it… Carcosa?

I feel compelled to don the amulet. Instead I put it away, disgusted with such a blasphemous compulsion. However, as I arrive at work, I find that the pendant hangs about my neck. How did it get there? I don’t remember putting it on?

What is happening to me?

A troubling letter…

The generic location seems out of place in this fanciful script.

I received a letter yesterday. It was from a deliberately untraceable origin: a generic distribution centre in Toronto.

The return address was written in a spidery, nearly unintelligible script, as if by a crazed scholar or antiquarian. It felt rushed and desperate.

My name and a blood red stamp of “Received Undeliverable”…

Inside was another envelope. This one was more tattered, beaten up and dirty. It had a dusty, musty brown stain on it that smelled faintly of cinnamon. I’m getting a little worried here as I see my name written in the same decrepit handwriting.

Like a dream, I was trusted with forbidden texts…

Upon opening it, I found that it had been stuffed with a printed letter (water stained) and four small sheafs of paper; excerpts from a novel, it seemed.

The letter explained that due to governmental and institutional censorship of literature, someone was trying to preserve a forbidden, controversial work by spreading parts of it throughout to world (like seeds… shudder).

His or her signature was completely destroyed by a water stain:

“Please keep this safe… show it to the future…” – Anonymous

I dared to read the texts. I felt an exhilarating shudder as I saw the title of the play: The King in Yellow. I knew of this blasphemous play and of how it ruined lives. If it really existed, it deserved to be banned!

I could not help myself. I read all of the excerpts, feeling excitement and dread.

Camilla, Cassilda… the black lake… am I doomed?

Somehow, someone out there knows of my fascination with The Yellow King, Hastur, as well as with the famous Mythos spawned from Azathoth and it’s high Priest in R’lyeh.

How? Is it because I have friends out there on many forums and circles? I’ve spoken of dreaded Carcosa before on my blog. I’m both honoured and worried that I’ve been targeted by this mad, desperate scholar.

Carcosa. This isn’t some fun, geek fandom thing. This play destroys life, ruins minds. I both thank and curse whoever found me out and targetted me. My life- no, worse, my soul- is set upon a course that I can no longer understand. I may be doomed.

Stay tuned… Please my readers… I don’t know where this may go…

Pity me!