• February 5th 1926
    My name is Jeremy Morton. My age is 27 years. I have no profession but the simple passion of all that I am… An inventor. I have chosen to document my life in hopes that others will one day come across it and share in my interests.
    What is my passion? Well… To put it shortly, the ancient Native American tribe, the Abkanis. I have spent hours upon hours a day sitting in the family library reading literature regarding their heritage. I supposed I caught a bit of that from my father… It is said that the infatuation of the Abkanis tribe is a curse bestowed upon the Morton family leading all the way up to my grandfather, Richard Morton, who first settled on this island to build a home and a life, but I choose not to believe in such things. What curse is it to be interested in a rich and diverse culture of people?

    February 12th 1926
    Today is the anniversary of the day my dear friend, Joseph Edenshaw, came to live at the Morton family estate. I remember the day I met him well… It was a chilled winter morning six years ago. I was yet again in an ill state, as I often would be due to being such a sickly youth. I peered out from my bedroom window because I was informed that the Abkanis Indian expert would be arriving on that day. I could at last see a tall slender man with long brown hair and an arched nose walking through the front courtyard onward toward our family mansion. His eyes were stern, silent. Behind his semi-sweet chocolate eyes, dark complexion, and angular face I saw something more. Something I couldn’t quite wrap my finger around. Something I was incapable of discerning (a rare occurrence in my case).
    When I had first met the soft, silent man I did not realize how close we would one day become. And although we are the closest of friends it humors me to think that he is yet still a mystery to me, to this very day.

    June 21st 1931
    This long awaited day and it has finally come. On this day, my son, Howard, has been born. Many of my closest comrades attended the birthing. My father, Joseph, and Judas De Certo. These same men attended my own birth… except Edenshaw, of course… Though I noticed a peculiarity… I had seen my father and De Certo much throughout my childhood and life, but not until this very day, when the two men stood exactly where they did when I was born, did I see this obscure fact. My father was not the strong standing, bold man he once was, he had turned grey and dull, as is what naturally happens when one ages… But Judas De Certo… He hunched himself over slightly as he always did… with the same silent iniquity that so often filled his eyes. His pale face had seams streaming across it's narrow frame… The exact wrinkles which had been there all my life… Nothing had changed in De Certo; his enigmatic disposition is the same as it had always been. I found myself staring at him wonder-lust by this realization, even the birth of my son could not deter my eyes from his flat, wrinkled face with nothing but his nose prominently jutting outward for all the world to see. All there was to me were those burning turquoise eyes.

    November 4th1940
    De Certo has recently confided in me of a secret array of Abkanis writings and caves deep within the island. I have seen much use in his assistance especially as of late. His intelligence and knowledge is only rivaled by that of Edenshaw. He has lived here long before my birth so I trust his judgment in discerning true Abkanis artifacts. He chatted freely with me as we passed by the small stone church that is good walking distance from the mansion. It always seems to me that De Certo glances shadily toward the church every time we pass it, at times his eyes even seem to be snickering silently to themselves.
    After our journey, we found ourselves at a rocky enclave in the earth. The ground was coarse and rough and extremely difficult to tread on, although it seemed as though De Certo glided over the pebbles with the greatest of ease. He guided me downward to a dug out cavern. I stood at the mouth of the mammoth beast and stared deep inside its throat. I could feel my heartbeat racing and my palms begin to become clammy. My breath quickened steadily growing faster and faster as the duration of time that I stared into the mouth grew longer. I had not noticed at that time that De Certo was already walking casually into the monstrous discovery. I could feel the sweat trickle down my forehead as I tried to gain the courage necessary to enter. This was what I wanted… True Abkanis relics and dwellings… Anything I ever wanted out of life… Yet… Something held me back from entering the darkness. De Certo looked at me with his sapphire eyes almost glowing within the abyss. I could feel the darkness drawing me in yet my feet remained planted on the ground before the beast. Just as I found the courage to step inside I heard a voice echo from behind me.
    "Stop!" it commanded. The voice was so powerful that it knocked me back away from the cave. I looked upward dazed and confused to meet the eyes of Joseph Edenshaw looking sternly down at me. He abruptly shot his dark eyes upward to meet those of De Certo. They glared at each other in a pure malicious rage for a moment that felt like a thousand years, as they often times did when they would even casually pass each other (I had always wondered why they disliked each other so). De Certo stepped forward almost threateningly and spoke in a drawn out breath with a hint of a Norwegian accent hidden underneath each vowel. He muttered words I could not understand yet I saw Edenshaw almost wince in pain from the very sound of them.
    Edenshaw then quickly helped me to my feet, never once removing his eyes from those of De Certo. One could taste the tension in the air between the Norwegian and the Native American. Yet, suddenly De Certo snapped his gaze back and showed his crooked smile. "Very well then… Perhaps not today." he breathed.

    February 8th 1941
    I have become engulfed within the Abkanis civilization De Certo had discovered. Despite constant warnings and at times what seemed almost to be pleadings from Edenshaw, I could not hold myself back from exploring this magnificent find. Within the twisting caverns I came across small blue crystals scattered about along the walls and floors that seemed to give off some sort of energized power. They are truly remarkable. I must study them more for they will no doubt become of good use one day.
    I have come upon the decision to create a sort of fort to surround the caves. It will consist of an outer wall, observatory (for the Abkanis correlated many of their beliefs and civilization on the night sky), a workshop for me to tinker with my projects closer to the glorious creation from the Abkanis, and an oubliette that leads down to the actual beast itself. Hopefully this venture with not take long, for I cannot wait much longer to take on the endeavor of personally researching this magnificent civilization.

    September 13th 1946
    Lately I have been experiencing strange and unusual dreams, nightmares of hellish creatures flooding from the jaws of the beast. At times in the dead of night I truthfully start to believe I can hear their howls… Their horrible howls… They almost cause me to yet again feel the pain of the jet black jackals with razor sharp fangs and blood trickling from their devilish mouths clamping down and tearing my flesh from my bone… But they are dreams after all… Nothing but dreams.

    March 27th 1947
    With a slack hand I once again pick up my pen to write my memoire. The beast, the glorious beast haunts me. I cannot sleep at night because of it. It seems the deeper I venture within the belly of the monster the less rest I receive and the more anxiety that consumes me. I spend no time at home now, forever in my workshop, forever laboring over new ideas and creations. I have not yet been able to utilize the potent power which the crystals give off, or even discern where its true source is within the crystal for that matter. I may spend hours in my workroom, progressing slowly on projects that aid me in the forgetting of sleep. I cannot bear to sleep, not with the dreadful visions that overwhelm my inner consciousness each time I drift away. My body is weakening yet again… Relapsing to a state worse than what it once had been as a young, sickly child. My hands have become abrasive and worn and I dread looking at my own reflection as the man that stares back at me is not the young eager lad I once knew, but a man who's worn face is elder than his years… I fear the beast is slowly draining my life away.

    June 5th 1949
    My mind is spinning with a multitude of voracious questions searching for answers. All of these questions have one single key component, the World of Darkness.
    My path toward knowledge started with Joseph pulling me aside to speak with me. He told me everything… Any and every bit of knowledge about the Abkanis he once held close to his heart never to be spoken streamed from his lips like fervent torrents of truth. He informed me of the responsibility put upon the Abkanis, or "Guardians" in their native language, by their Seven Great Gods when these beings fleeted toward the sky to dwell there for all eternity, watching over mankind. The Abkanis guarded the entrance to the Drakar Mundwell, or the World of Darkness, which held back the Drakar Ann, creatures of darkness, from the Kotar Mundwell, or World of Light. The Seven Great Gods of the Abkanis had battled the Drakar Ann, who were the actual creators of the monstrous caverns, not the Abkanis as I had assumed, and drove the creatures of darkness back into the black abyss of which they once came, bringing light to the world once more. He also explained to me how he was the last of the Abkanis tribe, a witchdoctor, who came back to this island to ensure the security of the beast.
    At first I stood wide eyed at my old friend, unable to utter a single word. Emotions of confusion, fear, and excitement filled my heart at once until it felt as though it would burst… literally. I clenched at my chest in pain and let out a small whimper. When I looked up toward Edenshaw I could see his hard eyes soften and compassion fill his heart. He put his hand on my shoulder and helped me up to my workroom to rest.

    June 6th 1949
    De Certo. bodies. blood everywhere. sacrificed. Grandfather? difficult to write... coherent… Edenshaw. Drakar Mundwell. Ann. why.

    June 26th 1949
    In condolences for my previous entry I have decided to write another explaining the preceding while I am at least somewhat rational. It was a rare occasion when I was actually back at the estate. I had ventured to my old nook in the aged hexagonal library encompassing ancient birch shelves and rows upon rows of dusty literature, which human eyes had not seen for many a year, at my fingertips that I had once left behind. That was when I saw it. A peculiar text I had never laid eyes upon before. I had surely read every book in the library at least once throughout my youth so I was convinced this one had to be new. "Perhaps a study book my young son, Howard, has purchased," I thought to myself as I slowly lifted the book, unsettling the coarse dust clinging to it relentlessly. As my fingers brushed against the frigid surface, the blood within them seemed to congeal. A callous chill quickly jolted up my spine but I, unfortunately, against my initial instinct (curse my curiosity), decided to shake it off, or at least attempt to. I opened the cover of the icy work and read the words, Niger Veneficus in a reddish crimson colored ink. I opened to the second page my heart beat slowly increasing. There a poem resided:
    Venture forth before the cold
    To the city made of gold
    Never again will you stay
    Never again will you obey
    All else you will have to snub
    While in service to Beelzebub
    I flipped to the next page and my heart was struck with a pang at the sight of blood stained pages with directions for sacrificial rituals to obtain an inhuman power. I flipped through the pages from one to the next over and over as images of mutilated corpses of young women filled my skull. Blood splattered up against cold stone walls in hellish designs and patterns seemed to ooze slowly off the photographs. I could feel my heart pounding over and over, ready to jump out of my chest. My eyes flashed this way and that over the horrific pages. I wanted to stop. I wouldn't stop. I couldn't stop.
    Suddenly I heard a horrendous cackle sound from behind me. I knew that voice… I abruptly spun around to meet devilish turquoise eyes glowing brightly into mine. From this gaze it felt as though a knife had been pierced into my heart. I fell to the ground gasping for air, clenching my chest for dear life. The inhuman man was now in front of me looking down in pure malevolence at my hunched figure. He spoke quickly in his breathy voice, "Very good, Jeremy, very good. I would like to congratulate you, personally, on your stunning discovery," the wicked De Certo quickly whipped up his hand and I was sent flying up against wooden shelves. The dust exploded from the vicious contact and I gasped remorselessly for air. I saw those eyes, those horrible eyes driving the dagger further into my heart. "It was rather fun playing with your family, you all are like fresh clay… Easily molded to any shape I please," he said playfully as he threw down pictures of Grandpa Richard assisting in the gathering of young women to be brutally destroyed by De Certo.
    "N--no!" I managed to let out with coughing up blood and wheezing. De Certo chuckled to himself and slowly drawled on in his typical Norwegian tone, "You have been a tough one to mold though, Jeremy." He smiled evilly looking down his gargantuan, pointed nose at me. "So curious you are… Maybe that's why you're such a skilled inventor… But you know… curiosity did kill the cat," he made another motion with his hand and I was sent flying into a large statue in the middle of the room. He turned around and looked directly at me and softly said, "We'll see if your son is any less difficult after you are gone." He raised his hand one last time but it seemed to freeze in mid air. He looked at it frantically and then a stern, forceful voice sounded from behind him, "Judas De Certo." He spun around to meet eyes with the strong-sighted Native American, Joseph Edenshaw, holding out a wooden staff with a crooked end.
    "Edenshaw!" De Certo scowled, "Stay out of this, Abkanis scumb!"
    "Your time is over," Joseph stated and then he started chanting the Abkanis words:
    Ewni Dar Akam El Drosti
    Otar Den Tyren Ol Bagdan
    Hyntor Wotengar El Dryu
    A mammoth portal opened in the center of the floor and De Certo stared at it wide eyed, fear stricken. "No! You will not be rid of me!" he screamed at the top of his lungs as papers danced through the air and into the loudly humming vortex. De Certo's wild eyes darted around searching for shelter but it was nowhere to be found. He quickly grabbed an antique mirror connected to the wall, attempting to prevent himself from being engulfed, but the mirror unlatched from the wall and he was imbibed by the vortex clutching onto the mirror and screaming.
    The last thing I saw was Edenshaw sprinting over to me. At that point, the darkness engulfed me.

    January 14th 1953
    It has been four years since that fateful incident with De Certo. Since then my son, Howard, married a beautiful girl named Lucy Dogan and their twin boys were born just yesterday, their names, Alan and Obed. Even with the lack of De Certo the beast still haunts my dreams, although not as fervently as before. I have still struggled with the power crystals and have not yet been able to harness their true capabilities. Only time and study will resolve my problems.

    December 5th 1969
    I have done it! I have finally to strengthen the resonance power of the crystals! It was so simple… Even though the crystals were formed in the dark of the caverns their true power could only be harnessed within the light of day. This morning at sunrise I placed a crystal into a metallic holder attached to a prism. I allowed the light to pass through the prism and then the spectrum of light into the crystal and the crystal glowed the brightest blue I have ever laid my eyes upon. Now my challenge is to combine the crystal with the energy container and place that into my latest invention, the photoelectric pulsar to be able to create an enormous beam of light to shine through the crystal walls of the cavern and destroy all that has haunted me. I shall not fail.

    May 30 1973
    The nightmares are still here. I am progressing yet they are getting worse… Why? By allowing De Certo to do as he pleased while he was still in existence caused me my whole life… and perhaps the world. I don't know what to do… I feel helpless, exhausted… Last night, for the first time in my life… I prayed.

    May 31 1973
    My strength is completely gone. I will not be here for much longer I can feel that… The Drakar Mundwell will be opened permanently and the Drakar Ann will be free to engulf the world in darkness. I have… failed… My only hope now is Edenshaw. Perhaps he will be able to finish what I have started… Or perhaps another lost soul will find their true destiny in my ashes.
    Alan came to me today. He said he can feel the creatures from inside the beast's belly. He knows of them… How? I often hear him speaking to himself in his room but when I open the door there is no one to be found, only Alan sitting at his night stand looking into his mirror.

    For now I fear I must put down my pen for what is perhaps the final time. The darkness is consuming me… I can feel the fanged creatures tugging once again at my soul. All there is for me now… is drakar.

    Darkness