It is with a great amount of reservation and foreboding that I place these words down for you, Marie. I have hidden this note where I know only you will find it, after my body has been placed to rest. No one else can know what lead to my suicide; it would be too much of a burden and I fear that some would follow in my example. And yet they would only read or hear about what I have experienced first-hand!

But I must tell you, somehow, so that you do not feel disappointed in me for taking my own life. You should know that I held of the desire to leave this world for months only because of my worry over how you would get on without me. I don’t mean to say that you wouldn’t. You’re strong, the strongest person I know. But I just don’t want you to feel lost that I would have left you in such a way or, curse the thought, that you might somehow blame yourself. Just remember, you were my reason for living, not for dying.

And so I will explain what it was that drove me to say goodbye to you, the one person that I would otherwise have done anything for. But a final warning: these very words may cause to you come along with me. You have been warned and if you do not feel that you could survive this tale, I beg of you now in the name of any love you have or had for me to destroy this document and push all thoughts of me out of your head forever.

And if you are still reading, we begin.

It was last fall. You had left to visit your brother in the mountains and I was finishing my affairs in town so that I could conduct my own trip. The sitters for the house had been hired and the cat fed, and my bags were packed and ready for my trip to begin. I was to return a day or so after you, but as you recall I was home waiting for you when you got back. I said that my trip was simply shorter than I had thought it would be, but you didn’t believe me. You could always see through me.

The trip, as you again should recall, was to that strange island that my research department had been investigating off the southern coast. It took me a day to get to the coast, and almost another to get out to the island. It was rare for me to research in the field, but I had been asked to come and observe a rare and special phenomenon. I wasn’t told exactly what it was I was coming to see but only that the other members of the team where concerned and that my guidance would surely be the best remedy for their temperaments.

I found that the reports of their “discomfort” were in fact greatly understated. There was practically a superstitious zeal circulating among the men, especially the younger ones. I was told that the strange phenomenon had been manifesting every evening starting three weeks to the day before I had arrived at the site. When I asked what the phenomenon was, I would only be told that I would have to wait to see it myself. And so I unpacked my traveling gear and waited for nightfall.

There was an odd occurrence that came about while I was waiting that, at the time, seemed of no importance. However, it bears mentioning now as I am almost sure it was related to the events which followed. It was simply that while I sat outside my lodging awaiting nightfall, I could not help but notice a great migration of wildlife away from the area of the island in which we were conducting our research. It seemed that all manner of bird and animal were in a great hurry to be as far from our location as possible. Looking back, I cannot believe that it didn’t strike me as bizarre.

I am afraid I must digress momentarily again to explain what it was we were there to examine since it was kept secret from most of the public and from you. Archaic and unsettling ruins had been found during an expedition and our university had been given the grant to explore and examine these ruins. This was, in fact, all I knew at the time of my journey since even the preliminary data which I was supposed to receive had not been sent yet. Now we are up to speed.

It was at dusk that some of the other members of the team explained to me that these ruins showed no characteristics relating to any known culture in the world and that the age of the ruins was downright frightening. The newest parts of the ruins weren’t more than thirty years old. And yet, the older parts of the ruins which appeared to go almost endlessly underground were older than even the oldest known civilization. It was as if someone (or something as I would later realize) had built these structures long before mankind existed and was still busy in our current era! But at the time I thought this was merely an error in the data, certainly a result of the unwarranted spooking of the crew.

Night fell. I saw the phenomenon. It is very difficult to explain. I imagine it would be hard to explain to another person who was viewing it right along with you. It is the color that most defeats description. It surely belonged somewhere within our known spectrum of light - we could see it - but yet it was not recognizable as any color any human had seen before or after this event. At times, I guessed it was close to purple, but it also seemed to be a greenish-orange. Beyond this, I must say that it looked the way I imagine the Aurora Borealis would look if it were a tangible and clearly defined liquid floating only fifty or so meters above the ground. It was floating directly above the center of the excavation site.

I managed to shake my stupor off and ask the man next to me what had happened when they had gone to the site while the phenomenon was present. He responded that they hadn’t dared got to the site with the cloud present. I immediately sympathized with this decision, but you know me well enough to know that my pride often gets the best of me, and it did again. I scolded the men (lightly) for their foolish cowardice and immediately assembled a scouting party comprised of myself and the three men who were shaking the least. These were my two colleagues, Jones and Farnsworth, and a young fellow by the name of Roker. I learned that the phenomenon always lasted at least four hours and so we set off to make the best time we could.

The walk to the site took approximately twelve minutes. When we arrived, I was slightly relieved to find that strange thing in the air was not as big as it had appeared from a distance. It was, in fact, about the size of a small cottage whereas it had looked more the size of a massive ocean liner before. Yet the more time we spent their, the more I couldn’t help but feel as though it were watching us.

As for the ruins, they were indeed strange. The markings and characteristics were not those of any previous structures with which I’d been acquainted either through experience or picture. And beyond that, these edifices and shrines (and that was certainly what most of them were - shrines), were built in curving and awkward angles that created a surrealistic mood. I could look at one of these buildings in one minute and find it only minutely odd, and then in another minute it was like pieces of the buildings just didn’t fit and they should come crashing down around me. But they did not.

At various locations around the site, deep holes had been discovered. These holes showed signs of being made by the same creators as the rest of the ruins. The men hadn’t found a way to descend through the holes yet as their depth was difficult to determine. However, I stumbled across another hole which contained a winding stairwell descending into the darkness. Upon seeing it, my companions were shocked and horrified. I quickly learned that, unlike the other holes, this one had not been present during their daytime visits. My pride again persuaded me to shrug off these warnings of danger and insist on continuing forward. We light torches and began down the stairs. I of course went first.

After twenty minutes, we reached what appeared to be the bottom. We rested briefly and agreed that we would have to allow twice as much time to ascend the stairs. When we began exploring this new area, we discovered that it was a large hallway with no intersections or doorways that we could perceive. We walked slowly and carefully down the hall.

Roker was the first to become aware of the faint light emanating from somewhere ahead of us. We proceeded with caution until the light had become so bright that our torches were no longer needed. I do not mean to say it was really all that bright, but bright enough that the light was of the same luminance as our torches and our desire to preserve them led us to extinguish them and continue on by this natural (or should I say unnatural?) light.

Farnsworth observed writing on the walls as we came very near to the end of the tunnel. It was in a script which appeared to be closely related to Arabic. Though we had trouble deciphering it, Jones was quite certain he had properly translated one passage which sat on a particular part of the wall which was headed with the title Necronomicon. The passage read, “That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.” It was unsettling but my pride had not left me. I hurried the men along to the end of the corridor.

The room into which we entered was larger than the hallway and domed. Six egg-shaped objects which were large enough for a man to fit inside circled a seventh egg which was much larger and sat perfectly in the center of the room. Upon examining the small eggs we noted that some of them had began to crack.

I must admit that all four of us were quite nervous and unsure. Even my pride was beginning to show signs of doubt. But the final straw was the sound. Farnsworth discovered it coming from the egg which had cracked the farthest. The sound was so alien that I was sure at first it was simply a noise. But I am sure now that it was a voice. The syllables and inflection can not be emulated by a human voice box, but the closest I can manage would be: Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn. I know not what it means and I am glad that I did not find out before my passing.

At any rate, we decided it was time to go. Jones was sure that one of the eggs had gained a new crack in the short time we had been present. We were preparing to leave when all at once the greatest single cracking sound that I could ever imagine deafened us. We stopped in our tracks, looking down the hallway we were about to enter, wanting to continue but knowing we would turn around.

As we rotated slowly, smaller cracking noises could be heard. When I had finally turned, I saw that the large egg in the center had broken open, casting a great amount of its shell onto the floor around it. The opening was along the side and at such an angle that we could not see into the egg but only that the egg was opened.

The first things to come were tentacles. The reached out, squirming neurotically and probing the edges of the shell. Then followed the thing to which they were attached. It was squid-like in appearance although much bigger. And it had two searing blue ovals which we certainly eyes. It turned to observe us momentarily. A great claw protruded from the shell, grasping the edge and pulling. It hoisted the body of this great beast through the opening part way, and I realized with horror that the size of the thing before us was far too great to fit in the egg. Somehow, it was much larger.

Farnsworth stepped in front of us. He didn’t speak but simply waved his arm in a way which meant which should go. In his hand, he held a bundle of dynamite. It was lit. Roker and Jones nodded and ran. I met Farnsworth’s eyes and hesitated. “Go,” he said. I did, but I looked back. Farnsworth waited until the fuse was short and heaved the dynamite as high as he could above the beast.

The explosion was loud, but not as loud as the sound of the egg cracking. A great burst of air nearly knocked us off our feet. Looking back, I saw that the room had collapsed. I wonder now if Farnsworth sacrificed himself because he knew he would not be able to live with these ghastly visions in his head. Perhaps he knew he’d be taking the same path as I did if he survived the ordeal.

Roker and Jones had stopped to look back as well. We had begun to feel relieved when the rubble was suddenly and forcefully pushed aside. That great squid head was pushing through. The blue eyes gave off light of their own and the thing started to pursue us. We lit our torches and ran.

As the thing gave chase, the tunnel around us began to collapse. Chunks of rock were falling and we had to take great care to avoid them. One large chunk of rock struck Jones in the leg and toppled him. Roker continued to run but I stopped and tried to help. The rock had Jones pinned and as the monster quickly approached, he screamed wildly and tore at the flesh of his leg. I believe he would have detached the limb if he had been able to. But one of the tentacles of that beast suddenly shot out and wrapped itself around his neck.

My pride was gone entirely at this point. I ran, not looking back to see what Jones’ fate was. I reached the stairwell and started to climb. The monster was quick on my heels and I felt tentacles brush my back more than once. My adrenaline was pumping and it was difficult to keep track of time, but I believe it still took me over thirty minutes to climb those stairs. At what was likely the half-way point, I was sure that I was going to die from exhaustion.

Suddenly, I heard a scream from above. Roker dropped past me, falling to his doom on the face of the beast below. I watched him drop and then looked up instinctively. That cloud of indescribable color was descending fast. It went by me, toppling some of the stairs just below where I was standing, and plunged into the beast.

The eyes went from blue to orange as the thing absorbed the cloud. I must admit I did not look closely at this point, but I believe the thing got bigger and grew more tentacles from its face. I know for a fact that great leathery wings sprouted suddenly from its back because they flew up around my, smashed above the creature’s head as a result of the constraining nature of the tunnel on its body.

This turned out to be what saved me because the creature’s progress was slowed considerably by its increase in size. I redoubled my efforts and climbed. At times I had to make frightening leaps where some of the stairs had collapsed. The monster fell further and further behind, though it shook the stairwell in rage and caused me to trip more than once. I reached the top just as I thought I would be able to climb no more. I collapsed only a few steps away from the stairs. The thing was still pursuing me and I knew it was getting close, but I had run out of energy. I gave up and waited for my end.

Right then, the sun peeked over the horizon. I heard a terrible cry from the stairwell and then it was gone. The stairwell itself was no longer there. It was just a slab of solid rock. I looked on in disbelief, assuming that at the very least, the creature below would break through this barrier. But it did not.

I reached the campsite and tried my best to explain what had happened. I suppose I am lucky for not having been accused of foul play in the disappearances of my colleagues. I think the strange events which had led up to that night were enough to convince the men that I was telling the truth. The next night, I slept uneasily. I assumed that when the sun set, the stairwell would be opened again and the beast would emerge to kill us all. But it did not. I can only guess that it had a short window of time to escape, and that now it may be sealed away for another period of time. Ten years? A hundred? A thousand? Possibly longer.

Or maybe the strange cloud is what held the stairwell open. Once it merged with the beast, it was no longer able to open the gate. If that was the case, then maybe it would never be opened again. But this conjecture is useless. I believe the things I witness operated on another set of rules from our reality. I imagine no human could understand what caused those things to happen. And I do fear that this was not the first time that that monster has attempted to enter our world, not will it be the last.

The story was that some disease had broken out on the island, taking the lives of my colleagues. We also stated that our tests of the ruins showed them to be conclusively a hoax, probably created by some group who had stumbled upon the island during a sailing trip. We just wanted to keep anyone else from going back.

And now you know what happened. You saw how I could never sleep. I have been wracked with guilt over the deaths of my friends. It had been my idea after all to go down there. If I did not have nightmares about one of them, I dreamt about that creature with its strange eyes and deadly tentacles. I dreamt about that substance of no known color. I dreamt about the strange tunnels and eerie light. And I dreamt about that phrase, which repeats in my head even as I finish writing this. The noose is hanging from the rafter. Soon it will be around my neck. And even as I drop, I know that those words will be in my mind. “That is not dead which can eternal lie. And with strange aeons even death may die.”