|Game(s)||Alone in the Dark (1992)|
- of J. Hartwood
- September 27, 1924.
I have decided to keep this diary.
Too many inexplicable events have
taken place recently. Never have
dreams so haunted my very waking
moment. Perhaps my romantic mind
was too dull, and has only now woken
up to these new paths and visions.
Some, seeing my recent paintings,
may question my sanity. I can only
ask them, "What is sanity? Where
does madness begin?"
September 28, 1924.
The night is pitch black. I am again
drenched in sweat. I was wandering
in dunes, among giant standing stones.
They were arranged in a circle and
the wind whistled about them.
- I plunged my hand into the soil,
and felt that repulsive thing which
was trying to catch me. It seized me.
I struggled to break free of its
loathsome embrace, and managed to
tear my hand away; it was covered in
sticky substance. I was gripping a
October 5, 1924.
The stone circle is a pentacle.
Derceto's library is filled with books
on the occult.
- I will study those books until I
find some explanation for the dreams.
The visions that haunt me must be
connected to my discoveries. I shall
have to undertake a profound
exploration of my dreams.
Dear God! I have found the knife.
It was hidden here and what I have
learned fills me this apprehension.
It is a sacrificial dagger, belonging to
some unholy cult.
- The thought of that blade tearing
though human flesh horrifies me.
Yet I must continue my research.
Derceto is a storehouse of treasures.
Was my father right after all?
I spent all my days plunged in dusty
books. The servants are convinced I
am mad. At night, I wake them
with my screams. The dreams are
draining what sanity I still have. I
have tried staying awake, but in vain.
My visions have changed, no doubt the
influence of my father's research.
February 7, 1925
The dark man (that is what I call
him) has revealed his true face to me.
He appeared, as usual, near the
fireplace; but this time, he approached
- His terrible smile will haunt me
to my dying day. His breath was ice
and his burning eyes froze me: I
could not move! I know, as surely as
I have ever known anything, that the
face I saw, the face that has turned
my nights into hellish torture, is the
mask of death.
My exhaustion is beyond description.
The endless reading burns my eyes.
- It seems that pirates frequented
the area. Doctor Herbert insists I
keep to my bed. I have moved to
another bedroom and sleep much better
now. The dark man has not gone,
however. I know it. He will wait
for as long as he must... Unless I,
Jeremy Hartwood, can find a way to
send him back to whatever hell he
My poor knowledge of Greek and
Latin are a serious handicap to my
reading. I have nevertheless made a
great step forward. I drew the symbol
on the floor: he can no longer go there.
I want him to understand that I can
do the same thing in my bedroom. I
can imagine his rage and frustration:
only last night he found his way back
into my dreams.
The translation will seriously dent
what money I have left. I cannot
paint! My pictures are clearly the
work of a lunatic. The collector
Thornhill's embarrassed smile was
proof of that...
He has come back... He found the
door to my dreams. I am too weary to
attempt any defense.
- I have no strength left to fight and
he knows it. He considers me dead
already. Could I possibly...
How ironic... The cave my father
sought for so many years is here...
beneath the house. Waites the butler
discovered a crack in the cellar wall.
A breeze blows in through it, icy and
repugnant,... I am filled with horror
at the thought of my father dying in
this place. I will carry to my grave
the vision of his face contorted in the
agony of that fatal heart attack.
His body was twisted. He had wept...
His finger nails were torn and bloody
from scrabbling at the floor. Doctor
Gray concluded that death had been
due to a heart attack. It was Waites
who, sometime later, informed that
my poor father had in fact bitten off
his tongue and choked on his own
I explored the caverns in a dream.
The dark man came with me.
- Strangely, I felt almost well.
How can I describe what I saw?
No. What words are capable of
explaining such evil?
- I realized that my death was of
no interest to him. The dark man
wants something else; he seeks a body.
His avid servants are now free.. I
am the cause. It is almost funny.
- A curse is on Derceto, from the
foundations to the very roof-top. I
can no longer struggle, let alone
eradicate the evil that grips the house.
The end is very near. I can feel it.
I have taken the decision to... May
he who finds his diary pray for my
- The initials J. H. are printed on the front of the notebook.