Last night, I couldn't sleep. The visions of the undead have returned and are torturing me every time I close my eyes. Between those and the fucking voices, I am losing my mind. Since I couldn't sleep, I decided to explore the internet in hopes of finding some type of material that could spark my research. All I need is a little hint, and I know everything I have been accumulating will fall into place.
That is when I stumbled upon the Patreon account for that writer, the one from the play and the upcoming class and he had an interesting piece that caught my attention. It was a letter, written from some guy named Martin to a Magdalene in 1963 and in it, it mentions the Man of Cloth and an incident close to the one that he was discussing in the promotional materials for his class.This motivated me so much that I broke down and emailed him to see if the letter was real and if it was, I could use it on here as part of my project.
Just minutes ago, he responded with a simple, "Absolutely on both."
What a break, maybe taking this class will give me some more insight on the strange happenings here and around Summit View. More importantly, it may help me discover the origins of the Man of the Cloth that has taken center stage in my investigation.
- Malachi
Help Me Magdalene, Help Me
From Martin as relayed by Mark A. Mihalko
October 13, 1963
Magdalene,
You will never believe what happened to me last night. Even now, my comprehension wavers. At first, my evening began as expected. I was cautiously transiting the hollow near the abandoned priory. The dreariness was oppressing, and yes before you ask, the mysterious history of the area populated my mind. I did not imagine this! I am not crazy! Believe me, when I tell you, I saw the dark shrouded figure along the side of the road, clambering on recess of the berm.
The sheets of rain and hail pierced my Falcon; I could only imagine how the howling winds were battering him. I had to stop; lend assistance. As I crept toward the solemnly cloaked figure, the repressing atmosphere grew heavy; the temperature plummeted. There was no face! There was only lifeless shell of a man. I looked into the abyss and saw Hell. I looked into the abyss and saw myself. In a flash, he was gone! Stunned. Alone. Confused, I had to go, something was wrong.
That is when the swiftness of his blade crept toward my head. What the hell? This man of cloth tried to kill me, but his vane was painless when it broke through my neck. Was he there? Or, am I crazy? No, I know what I saw; I am not crazy! Magdalene, you know me, I am not insane. Unique, maybe, but not insane. Shaken, overdrive kicked in and I made haste. I did not stop until I was secured inside my apartment. Petrified, frozen in this dank alcove, my will to live has vanished. I need you, I love you; please help me!
- Martin
You will never believe what happened to me last night. Even now, my comprehension wavers. At first, my evening began as expected. I was cautiously transiting the hollow near the abandoned priory. The dreariness was oppressing, and yes before you ask, the mysterious history of the area populated my mind. I did not imagine this! I am not crazy! Believe me, when I tell you, I saw the dark shrouded figure along the side of the road, clambering on recess of the berm.
The sheets of rain and hail pierced my Falcon; I could only imagine how the howling winds were battering him. I had to stop; lend assistance. As I crept toward the solemnly cloaked figure, the repressing atmosphere grew heavy; the temperature plummeted. There was no face! There was only lifeless shell of a man. I looked into the abyss and saw Hell. I looked into the abyss and saw myself. In a flash, he was gone! Stunned. Alone. Confused, I had to go, something was wrong.
That is when the swiftness of his blade crept toward my head. What the hell? This man of cloth tried to kill me, but his vane was painless when it broke through my neck. Was he there? Or, am I crazy? No, I know what I saw; I am not crazy! Magdalene, you know me, I am not insane. Unique, maybe, but not insane. Shaken, overdrive kicked in and I made haste. I did not stop until I was secured inside my apartment. Petrified, frozen in this dank alcove, my will to live has vanished. I need you, I love you; please help me!
- Martin
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