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Despite the meagre warmth from the few candles he had found Tommy still shivered. Images of tough Alaskan men being torn to pieces still haunted his vision and the howling wind pressing against the frail panes of the rustic cabin seemed to mirror the sounds of their screams. Most vivid of all was his cousins face yelling at Tommy to run, to get back alive and save himself even as… as he was being dragged from the ground into the forest canopy, into the fangs and mandibles of what? Those things...hideous gibbering, chittering abominations the size of bears but more spider than anything else.
Ten armed men had set out from Anchorage on the trail of a supposed killer. His cousin claimed it was some sort of monster which at the time Tommy and found absurd. Not anymore. Instead, 3 days out near Bear Creek they had found death and horror. They had come across an eldritch glowing tear of energy cutting across the creek and dozens of those things skittering about warping the landscape into a scene from a madman's nightmare. The following 2 days were a blur of terror, running, shooting and desperate hope.
Tommy was the last one, but he was still a day out from Anchorage and despite Becky, his rifle, saving his life more than a few times he knew he was running out of time as the creatures closed in. By sheer luck he had come across this deserted cabin just as night was falling and subsequently barricaded himself in. He now sat in the dim glow of the candles facing towards the windows and door one dirt and blood encrusted hand gripping Becky the other turning pages of a book he had found among the possessions within the cabin.
There was something alluring about this book. To his disciplined mind, he should have been grimly focused on staying awake and watching for danger, yet he could not stop studying this book. The author some visionary called Gloria Goldberg was portraying strange and wonderful places full of enchantments and wonders, the like Tommy's mind had never conceived. Shining cities, the moon even some sort of hell was reflected in such vivid art and frescoes.
Tommy was exhausted. No sustenance, rest and sheer exertion suddenly caught up with him. As he gazed upon an image of a magic forest he felt a crushing need to sleep descend upon him. As his vision began to fade the trees and flowers seemed to move upon the pages and the scent of berry teased his nostrils. So pleasant and inviting, but wait, was that the sound of clattering and chittering he could hear at the edge of his senses upon the roof...
~ The Diary of Tommy Muldoon
CatWeazle’s Play-By-Video #2 | Eldritch Horror: The Dreamlands: boardgamegeek....
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