The Ravenclaw Letter

Dear Luther,

The dreams have come again, and in all my suffering I take up my quill to write you once more; as to the visions which have grown ever more vivid and the impression they instill, echoing throughout the deepest depths of my soul. This dream was of a cathedral, stranded and dismantled in a state of an archaic unrest, and stranded upon a island of black stone in a sea which extended past the distance of the unending horizon. I was but a speck at the bottom of the bowels of the world and the entirety of everything around me left no feeling of security, and no sense of ease. The wind was mighty as I stood just atop the sea’s surface. I was on a plank of non-existing ground, walking on water and standing idol to the waves which shattered beneath me.

I saw the wind brush the rain in an intense blasting barrage of cyclones. Still, I could feel nothing. It was as if only my eyes were of an use; My eyes, and legs I could not make out, propelling me forward and through the giant black doors of the darkened cathedral. The dream ended by the time I had stepped in towards the blackened entrance. Once the shadows had taken me the roaring thunder of a storm raining outside my bedroom window had pulled me from that place of malice. Since after the revelations had began, and after our meeting last month in Salem, I have to say that what you said seems to be holding down. But who would have guessed it? Monsters from other worlds and beings out of time!?

All of this is just too surreal. I’ve gone to doctors for my night terrors and it was as you predicted. All they wanted to do was hype me up on anti-psychotics. I’m not sure where else to turn. You seem to be the only one with any idea about what’s truly going on with me. I hadn’t disregarded all you said. I remember, you believed entities from a past time were attempting to give me knowledge of things from back then. But, there’s still so much I don’t understand. Why did they choose me? Do they need me? Are they going to kill me!? All of this and more has kept me up all hours of the night. I find myself unable to leave my apartment, close my eyes or even keep from glancing around corners on the rare occasions when I go out.

The other day I could have sworn that I was followed back to my home. I kept looking around and yet, the presence that was tailing me seemed to only make itself known when I had my back turned. In my distress I have contacted local professors up at Princeton College. I talked to them about those… matters you told me about. About the runes and the ancient civilization. I know you said to keep it to myself, but I just couldn’t. I had to tell someone. Only one of the professors got back to me. An older gentleman by the name of Professor James W. Lewis. He had released a short local article which seemed to tie in to what you and I were discussing. I’ve visited him regularly and I attempted to persuade him to write you.

I haven’t seen him in some time though. One day he missed a lunch appointment we had scheduled. I fear something has happened to him. You know, the other day I tried to break my isolation and head over to his abode. When I went inside he was nowhere to be found. His library was ransacked and, though I admit it was wrong, I went through his belongings. I eventually happened upon a small box, slipped into this sectioned-out chunk of his study’s wall, behind a heavy wooden bookcase. In the hidden box was a small journal dated back to the 1930s. After picking it up I felt the presence of that dark figure again. I could have sworn it was peaking out at me from behind one of the chairs at the far end of the room.

I rushed out of his house quicker than I had come in and made my way back home. At this point I didn’t care if the thing saw me. I knew I just had to get home. I settled down at a table in my room and skimmed through the journal. I think you’d get more out of it than I did. There’s incantations for rituals, mentions of cults and key locations around the world. Professor Lewis had all this hidden. God knows what else he could have known. Anyways. He’s gone and I have no clue where to. Write me back when you can. Sincerely,

Ethan