It seems you’ve caught us at a bit of a disadvantage – so let us explain what is happening here:
Earlier this week, some indescribable thing from beyond ate our stylesheet, and I had to scribble out a quick replacement, which unfortunately was written in the only thing I had available at the time – a type of invisible ink which can only be read whilst standing atop basalt monoliths in a chicken suit, and only once every aeon.
To compound problems, most of our archivists are currently somewhat eaten as well, by no fault of mine, and I will likely need to find suitable replacements while I struggle to get this journal together, before it is too late. There are new openings every day, unpaid of course, and requiring some waivers signed and blood oaths taken. Interns must be able write fairly-decent English, and must also be willing to wear red.
You might notice some things are out of line or in a color that is hard to read, and I assure you this is a safety feature, and only temporary. The need for this degree of caution will likely fade over the next few days, as I believe the strange goings-on at the lake will soon be coming to their timely end.
- Festival
Published as “Yule Horror” in Weird Tales, December 1926 There is snow on the ground,And the valleys are cold,And a midnight profoundBlackly squats o’er the wold;But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings unhallow’d and old. There is death in the clouds,There is fear in the night,For the dead in their shroudsHail the… Read more: Festival - At the Mountains of Madness
March of 1931 by H. P. Lovecraft I I am forced into speech because men of science have refused to follow my advice without knowing why. It is altogether against my will that I tell my reasons for opposing this contemplated invasion of the antarctic – with its vast fossil hunt and its wholesale boring… Read more: At the Mountains of Madness - Eye of the Storm
I returned to the archives today to find the device had been tampered with in the middle of night. The disembodied spirit of professor Zlotty could be heard whimpering in the humidor, making strange sucky noises between his sobbing, as though he was trying to remove imaginary bisque from thin air. The Dunwich Horror came… Read more: Eye of the Storm - Moving pictures with sound
So, I’ve managed again to slip into the Miskatonic Archive unnoticed. I slipped a box of cream-filled shortcakes into the humidor, in order to distract the spirit of professor Zloty for a few, and the Dunwich horror is out dumpster diving again. I’ve found a few new areas have been added since my last visit,… Read more: Moving pictures with sound - The Ruins
… Of these buildings, we managed only to explore the larger chambers, and even then, only those that served as entries. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the shapes and sizes of the doors in between rooms and tiers, as though access between levels was restricted according to the size and shape… Read more: The Ruins - Things Needing Hasty Procurement
Hello, no point in introductions, as this is simply a memo. Nevermind that it is written on the good parchment and contains a wealth of pictures – as that has much to do with a certain “person” devouring an entire carton of memo paper, and the desk which contained it. - Jewels Vine
Toiling away till the wee hours of the night under bright lights and magnifying apparatus in her tiny hilltop studio in the Antipodes, she fashions a range of robots, pocket watch inspired lockets and all manner of hitherto undiscovered creepy crawly, flying and swimming creatures.