(A very old journal was recently found in a box of books given to our library by an anonymous donor. This is the first time the journal’s contents have been released to the public.)
July 14, 1936 — Great news! I have secured a job at the Carnegie Library of Pittsburgh. I am certain that my skills as an antiquary and paper conservator helped me acquire the position, as one of my first assignments is to work on the preservation of a very rare book recently given to the library by a foreign donor.
July 15 — My first day on the job, and a strange one at that. My supervisor has shown me the book to be preserved, and it is a horrendous thing indeed. It is Olaus Wormius’s Latin translation of the Necronomicon. Until now I had thought the book a thing of myth, but here it is, alive and well in Pittsburgh! Working on the preservation of this book shall certainly help to advance my career. My supervisor seems less enthusiastic; he showed me the book and hastily left the room. I can understand his anxiety given the legend that surrounds this book, but surely it is just that, legend!
July 25 — I have not had much time to write, as my work on the Necronomicon has become an obsession. I cannot help but read what is in those pages. In particular, a certain line keeps calling me back to it: “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.” My knowledge of ancient tongues is above average, but this one baffles me. I will need to do more research to see if I can discover its origins.
August 5 — I have learned the origins of that horrid phrase, not through any research, but within my dreams! The phrase is irrelevant now; it is the nightmarish dreams that focus my attention. In the worst of them, I am being stalked by a giant black cat, and as I run from it, He appears in tattered rags of yellow to open a great door that leads to the abyss! I have yet to fall into that door, but I know it will be my demise when I do. Therefore, I must not sleep until I can figure out how to escape this madness!
August 10 — I have not slept in five days. I know I cannot keep this up. Even awake I can hear the evil calling to me. I must not fall asleep. I must not fall asleep. I must no…
(Here the journal trails off in a long pen stroke. At this time, the whereabouts of the Necronomicon remain unknown).
–Wes, transcriber of the journal
*That is, a tale written in a style similar to H.P. Lovecraft’s.