Eye Strain: Final Statement of Edward J Ramses
Two things before I start this:
I assure you that I am not insane, despite my confinement at Hillcrest Sanitarium. I am quite willing to admit that I must appear to be, and the details of my story will seem to confirm this, but please, know that my actions and experiences are not colored by crazy thinking. They are the logical conclusion to the path I have chosen.
The second thing, regardless of how clichéd it is, "Truth" is not meant for the likes of man.
It was a sign in the window that brought about my downfall. "Final Closing: Estate Sale." This was in the window of the small antique shop on the corner of Dunsany and Poe. I had been in several times before, and had picked up an interesting item or two. The place was owned by one Terence Van Der Geld, or had been until his death; hence the estate sale. Ever interested in the antique, the odd and the esoteric, I entered in hopes of finding something out of the ordinary in the private collection of Mr. Van Der Geld. I was immediately drawn to the books, of which there were many. While I found several early editions of literary classics (sold for far under their actual value), the item that most caught my interest was a bound journal by the late Van Der Geld himself. "Notes on De Vermiis Mysteries" was written on the leather cover. Although there was no date, the pages seemed to have aged by perhaps thirty to thirty-five years (this is a knack an antiquarian bibliophile such as me is able to pick up after a while.) It seems that Mr. Van Der Geld was also a student of the occult, although he apparently had much better resources than I ever had. No, that is not a fair statement. I cannot (or could not at the time) call myself a student of the occult; dabbler is a far better word. Those of us who show any interest in this area usually offer up the excuse of "historical interest," when in reality we usually mean "boredom with the mundane," because there is always the hope of discovering that life is not what it seems. Up until this point, I had never had such a life altering enlightenment.
After leaving the shop, I headed home with the new editions to my own private library. That night, I set forth to study the notes Van Der Geld had written all those decades ago. My initial assessment was a disappointing one, the man had studied very little of his source, concentrating his notes on one area. Apparently, the writer of De Vermiis Mysteries was of the opinion that it was possible to expand the senses to include sensing entities that exist around us at all times, but on a slightly different spatial dimension. To this end, there were incantations, diagrams, herbal infusions, etc. listed meticulously to bring about this expansion of awareness. This was a waste of my time, akin to the several volumes I have read that claimed to be able to teach the art of astral projection. Unfortunately for me, time was something I had too much of, so a waste of it seemed reasonable. At least I would have self righteous indignation on my side when my efforts failed.
And so began a regiment of noxious concoctions, ridiculous incantations, meditations in the centers of carefully prepared circles; all allegedly too strengthen the senses. For two weeks, nothing. I vowed that if there was still nothing in a week, I would put this foolishness aside. This is when my eyes started to feel fatigued. Of course, my first reaction was that I was straining them in my "exercises" I'd learned from Van Der Geld's notes. There was an infernal itching, and my eyes constantly felt dry. Eye strain is certainly no good for someone who reads as voraciously as I, so I immediately ended my regiment. All the better, I really didn't feel like another week of it any way. After a day or two, the annoyance grew to a pain. It was as if there were a throbbing inside my head, and my eye sockets were the only outlet, only the throbbing was too big, and had to force its way out of me. Then came the feelings of looking into the sun for too long. Everything seemed to be too bright. Just as I decided to call for a taxi to take me to my doctor, all of these feelings slowly subsided. My vision was fine. No more dryness, itching, no pain, no throbbing. I settled back into my normal routine. I shelved the notes with the remainder of my occult collection, just another hoax to go with the rest. My life continued as usual for several months.
I was walking through the park when I saw the first bit of unusualness. I thought it was a man sitting under a tree at first, but as I walked by, and went to nod at him, I noticed this "man" had no face. In fact, it seemed to be a naked collection of body parts, haphazardly strewn together. My stroll faltered, I stood stock still, shocked by this abomination in front of me. As I tried to look closer, I felt an itchiness in my eyes. Whatever it was hardly move, in fact it was hardly really there. It looked like a mirage, really, and what movement it had to it was like the swaying of a leaf in a light breeze. I cannot say that I was frightened. The thing, while abhorrent to look upon, did not seem harmful. As I stared the itch swelled to the throb, and everything got very bright. This was so sudden, I threw my hands up to my eyes and rubbed them, hard, with my fists. After pulling away, the brightness and throb were gone, as was the thing under the tree.
Two days later, I was in a cab on the way to an opera. While driving through a rural area, several dog sized animals darted in front of our vehicle. The cabby didn't slow at all. "Are you daft!" I screamed at the man as I clutched the back of his seat in panic. "What are you talking about, Mr.?" he asked. I could tell by the perplexed look on his face as he turned to look at me that he had honestly not seen them. Since I felt no concussion, they must not have actually been there at all. Hiding my embarrassment and fear, I apologized, saying something about my eyes playing tricks on me. I tipped twice what I normally would have. When I got out of the cab, I felt a disturbing presence around me. Looking about, I seemed to see a pack of wild dogs in the shadows of the alley next to the opera house. I took a tentative step forward, and a face came out of the shadows at about the height of my knee, several paces ahead of me. It was not the face of a dog, but that of a man. Large, watery brown eyes above a pinched nose, beneath this, a gapping, toothy mouth with the tongue lolling out blasphemously long. Behind this, several more, equally repulsive faces edged forward. They were looking at me. I stumbled backward till I hit the door, and then hurried into the opera. There was a very faint throbbing in my eyes, and I was completely unable to enjoy the performance.
Occurrences became more frequent after this. Strange, jelly fish like creatures floated through the sky. Some of the pedestrians in the streets had no face, or perhaps no head at all. At times, a strange tentacle like appendage could be seen recoiling into the darkness of a shadow, or into the crack of a sewer grate. Packs of the man-faced dog things roamed the land. These sightings were usually accompanied by the throb, but it was never more than that associated with the slightest of headaches. These entities were aware of me to some degree, although they never acted on my presence. One night I woke with the distinct impression of being watched. I searched the room and found nothing. After returning to bed, I had trouble falling asleep because the throb began. The feeling of being watched returned, and I slowly turned over in my bed. Beside me, not two feet from the bed, stood one of the limb collection things. I could see jagged, untrimmed toe nails on the feet that protruded from its side; between the connection of two arms at its other side was a drooling mouth, slack and awful. I couldn't help myself, it was so close, I lashed out, but my fists hit nothing. It was not really there, or it was not there on this reality. My sudden action seemed to scare the thing away, and it shambled to a corner. Telling myself it couldn't hurt me, I went back to sleep with the wish it would be gone in the morning.
It was not gone. In fact, more had appeared. When I went out for the day, the dog things followed me everywhere. Some grew courageous and came up to me. I attempted to kick them away, but again, nothing. After realizing I could not harm them, they followed closer. In order to get anywhere, I had to walk through them. The floating jellyfish, too, seemed drawn to me. They became so thick around my head, it was difficult to see down the street. I became a shut in, but this helped little. Larger things lurked at the edge of my consciousness, perhaps the next dimension down. I could sense their awfulness with the throbbing in my eyes. I would often wake with something on my head, and I could "see" the internal workings of their alien anatomy. I was desperate to find something to reverse this, and I cursed myself for every wanting a life changing revelation.
My quest to alleviate myself of this burden ended suddenly. I was in my study when a blinding throb struck my eyes. I could feel that I was about to see one of the larger creatures, and somehow or another, I knew if I were to look at it, I would either go completely mad or die on the spot. The answer finally came to me... or so I thought.
It wasn't the end for me, my solution worked for the time. I understand why they put me here, but I figured if I kept up with my counseling (where I told nothing but lies, the truth seeming too insane), they would eventually let me out. I enjoyed listening to music for a while, and the books are just as good on tape (as long as they are not abridged). They allowed me to also have this voice recorder, which will be found next to my body with this final statement. I will hang myself after I am done recording these words, and this is a perfectly sane and logical choice on my part. You see, my solution only worked for a time. I gouged out my eyes with a letter opener, but now I'm starting to get a throb in my ears, and I'm starting to hear the most horrible sounds.