February 8, 1923

Today I saw very little outside my window. The scene remained the same one as yesterday, and nothing moved. However, when the sun began to disappear over the horizon, I saw a man limping down the street. He was dressed in a black suit, with a black tie, and was convulsing as if in great pain. I saw large growths all over his body, and his bones seemed twisted somehow. The result was that his overall shape seemed almost inhuman, to the point that I almost believed him to be a monster at first.

And then, before my horrified eyes, I saw the lumps recede, and I saw the man's skin turn pale. He fell to his knees and clutched at his stomach, and he vomited onto the cobblestone below. He vomited until nothing but bile came forth, and then he screamed and writhed in his agony. The color continued to recede from his skin until he was perfectly white, and then his golden hair began falling from him in clumps, and lumps formed over his facial features, obscuring them until they were completely invisible. The man stood, though he was still in a great deal of pain, and limped away, his limbs moving in a stiff manner.

February 10, 1923

The page I typed for my journal yesterday is gone. In its place, I have found a sheet of charred black paper, and upon was inscribed, in the most barely visible, barely legible letters: "Forever."

The world outside my window has changed four different times today. First it was a city made of glass, then it was a cabin built by a lake, then it was a cobblestone street surrounded by trees, and now it is a field with a single tree in the center, from which hangs a noose.

In each of these scenes I have seen the great black beast, always in the distance, always looking directly at me.

February 9, 1923

Today I watched as God's Messenger hunted its quarry, and I watched as the Suited One sought out the Messenger. I saw huhdJHIUEFGEHWIQBKJ sddfjjojmmj iohwiudhuiweqduibhi SSENITPME FO MLAER EHT FO YOT EHT ERA UOY TUB TI ESU TI HTIW YOT TI ELUR TI LORTNOC OT HGUOHT UOY SIRBUH RUOY NI SOAHC FO YTIC SWODAHS TUOHTIW YTIC EFIL FO YTIC SSENITPME FO YTIC DSFIOUNHIOUHJKLNnmklnmflenjKNKLN (((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((hihihihihihihowdy SHARDSOFMYHUMANITY typetypetypetypetype

I pray for the Messenger's safety.

February 5, 1923

Today I was visited by an angel. It was a beautiful creature, a being of indeterminate sex and a melodious voice.

God's Messenger called itself A. It told me that it could forgive me of my sins and reunite me with Grace in Heaven. It then informed me that I was in a special world under its own power, a sort of purgatory. The Messenger told me that many sinners walk within this world, but as long as I have faith, I should survive my time here.

A declared that it was hunting a great evil, a faceless demon dressed in black. It invited me to witness its battle with the evil from my window.

I look forward to it. I will serve the Messenger and then perhaps I can be forgiven.

February 3, 1923

When I awoke today, my window showed me a long hallway, built of stone and lit by torches. It stretched on as far as I could see, and disappeared into darkness.

I sat before the window for hours and sought to puzzle out what I was supposed to learn from this vision. Around midday, something in the darkness moved.

A great black dog, larger than any I had ever seen before, walked out of the darkness. Its eyes glowed like burning embers and it seemed to me that its gaze was fixed solely on myself. It walked slowly, almost confidently.

In its mouth it held a photograph of a negro woman

The dog sat down on the other side of the window, and simply looked at me.

It has been there since.

It is still there.

And its gaze has not left me.

March 1, 1923

The Messenger has been deceived, and the evil still permeates this world.

It falls onto me to be the hand of God now.

For my sins, for Grace, I shall not fail.

Let evil beware.

February 1, 1923

Today as I sat before my window, I observed a most peculiar individual. I could not determine the sex of this person, nor any physical features, as the lighting and the person's manner of dress thoroughly obscured such details.

The figure moved about apparently unaware of me, and its attention seemed focused on a row of neatly trimmed hedges. It approached the headges and placed what seemed to be a white square of paper upon it.

As the figure moved away, so too did the window, and I observed as the figure walked across a long field of golden grass before disappearing through the door of a dilapidated shed.

I have resolved to take careful note of everything I see through the window, for I believe that whoever owns this place is trying to send me a message.

March 9, 1923

I have not seen the dog in three days.

The window continues to show me visions of strange and terrible people. Sinners one and all.

I found something lying on the floor of this room when I awoke this morning.

It was a noose.

January 24, 1923

Today I awoke to find that my location had changed. my window now showed a different scene than it did yesterday. That strange and fascinating city of glass had been replaced with an alley, surrounded by walls of brick and mortar. Upon the walls were a variety of scratch marks, though from where they came, I do not know.

The day passed by slowly. I have found that I am strangely not hungry or thirsty. I remain confined to this room with little with which to pass the time, and I fear that these conditions are beginning to take their toll on me.

I spend most of my time thinking of Grace. I find myself thinking of my home in Georgia and the green pastures and forests that surround my town. Oh how I loved to play in those forests when I was a boy. I wonder what happened at my cousin's party? What happened when the guests and my cousin realized that I was unaccounted for?

There! Just now I blinked at the scene outside my window changed. I saw the pastures and the forest, and I saw some large black animal moving about through the trees, but I blinked again, and the alley returned.

January 23, 1923

To whoever finds this journal and looks through these pages, I beg of you to help me. I do not know how I came to be here. I fear for my life. Help me.

My name is Benjamin Johnson. I was attending a party when I found need to relieve myself. After excusing myself from the guests, I made my way through the hallways of my cousin's home and came upon an ornately carved which I had never before encountered. Curiosity soon seized me, and I opened the door and stepped through it.

What I found beyond it was a large city of wooden homes and cobblestone streets. Gaslights burned within their lampposts and illuminated the night. As I walked through these streets, I soon became aware of an oddly foreboding feeling. Slowly, I began to sink deeper and deeper into dread. For you see, there were no people in this city. Try as I might, I could find no signs of life.

I walked until the sun began to rise, and I suddenly found myself face to face with another door, identical to the one which had taken me to this city. I stepped through it and found myself within a strange room.

The walls are made from a material which I cannot recognize, but which is solid and white. A window shows on one wall, which reveals a sea of oddly shaped structures which seem almost to be made of glass. There is a wooden desk against one wall, with a stack of papers and a typewriter resting upon it, and on the opposite side of the room is a small bed.

The door vanished as soon as I stepped through it, and I am now trapped in this room.

And so I have little to do but write this journal.

Help me

Earlier I asked that whoever found this journal help me, but now I realize the foolishness of that notion.

By the time anyone reads this, I will most likely be dead.