Journal entry 138
Date: 18 June, 1889
Today was a harrowing day to say the least. I have seen more than I ever wish to in my lifetime. I am almost too shaken to recount what has occurred, but I feel in the name of science, I must. We began today by meeting outside of the pub. By we I mean, my now somewhat more deranged accomplices, the cabbie Thadeus, Lord Starkweather, Lord Corinth, Mr. Alset, and Viktor.
Upon discussion of the different interesting facts we had discovered from our various sources, we decided it would be best to discuss these strange events at the Macarro house with someone familiar with the occult. Mr. Alset remembered an acquaintance of his, a Mr. Rupert Merriweather, who had some such knowledge. We took Thaddeus’ cabbie over to his house and discussed our findings with him.
From our discussion, we determined the best course of action was to go back to the “haunted” house, and investigate the basement; what an absolutely horrible and dreadful idea…
Upon entering the basement, I discovered a rusted knife, that looked almost exactly like the dagger we found in the basement of the Chapel of Contemplation and Church of Our Lord Granter of Secrets. Except this time, when I touched the dagger, it sprang into the air. The basement was immediately filled with errant gunfire as every over-armed academian in the place opened fire. Viktor tried to grapple with the floating thing and received a cut on his hands for his effort. Eventually, the dagger was blown out of the air by Lord Starkweather and his man-cannon. For some reason, my addled brain had not had enough by this point, and I peeked through a hole in the wall put their by one of my errantly armed sidekicks…
As I looked through the wall, we were immediately set upon by a horde of rats. The screeching, gnawing, filthy, disgusting rodents set upon me with haste. I could do nothing but shriek in agony as they fell upon me, ripping and gnashing, gnawing and biting. Eventually, someone wwas able to blow them away with their shotgun. I cannot remember who for the pain these hateful creatures inflicted upon me caused me to faint away. I came to with my comrades huddled over me, performing first aid upon me (markedly better first aid than a couple days ago when I fell down that rope).
Alas, I had enough excitement for the day and determined the best course of action for my health was to sit on the stairs as my foolhardy companions floundered on. All I know is, apparently they ran into the animated corpse of Mr. Corbit, and blew him to literal smithereens. I must trust their account of what happened, as I, for one, refuse to enter that house again, ever! I performed a tactical retreat when I heard the others scream and shriek in utter fear and begin blasting away with their shotguns. I could not stomach anymore, and proceeded, in all haste, out the front door and waited in the carriage path.
Lord Starkweather provided his services to me to discuss the harrowing things I saw, and I must admit, I feel much better having confided my thoughts to him. I do not understand these things. The smashing bed, the floating dagger, but I assure you, they are not of this world. Mr. Merriweather said they weren’t actually happening, that they were figments of our imagination. Well sir, I say, I am a man of science! I do NOT imagine things. I know what I saw, and I saw an animated dagger damn you. No one will convince me otherwise. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t what should have occurred, and I have never seen anything like it before. I just hope that I never see something like it again.
Now, I must seek the medicae. For I fear some of these wounds will not heal without the attention of a physician.