These Voices Tempt Me

January 15, 1934 I can hear them calling. It's like a knife being scraped against the inside of my brain. Their voices...their voices screech with pain and remorse. They want me to join them, join them in the darkness. They tell me it's safe, that it's where I belong. I'm not so sure. Can't anyone help me?

January 16, 1934 Did I actually write that? I can't recall doing it. These voices I was talking about, did I actually hear them? Or was it all my imagination? I'm not sure. Am I going crazy? I need to figure this out.

January 16, 1934 In my concern for my sanity, I completely forgot about introducing myself and the reason for this journal. This is the diary of Mark Dione, and I acquired this diary for my 17th birthday. My Mother thought it best that I keep a record of my adventures going into adulthood. I didn't think highly of the journal but I will humour her. I am actually kind of glad for the journal now; I will be able to record my thoughts as I delve deeper into the mystery of my first record.

January 18, 1934 They were in my dreams this time. It was as vivid as actual life, I had believed it was real. Maybe it was; maybe it was real and I just thought of it as a dream. I can't be sure anymore. The only thing I am sure of is they want me to join them. The darkness, it haunts me. Forever awaiting me to fall asleep  just so it can visit me again. Like scars it clings to me, never leaving; always visible just under the skin. I'm not sure how much longer I will be able to last with these hauntings...

January 22, 1934 It has been awhile, journal, and I apologize for that, but I feel like I am getting closer and closer to solving this mystery. My family thinks I'm going insane. But that's ok, as soon as I can quiet these voices everything will be alright again.

January 23, 1934 The love of my life, my beautiful Alexandra, has left me today. She told me I haven't been myself recently, that I was growing into a completely different person. I tried to convince her that it wasn't me that was changing me, but it was the Voices that were changing me. She would hear none of it. I am completely heartbroken today. But I can hear them clearly, now. And...and I can feel myself starting to believe their nonsense. Why, God, why? Haven't I been a faithful follower to Your word and wisdom? Why must You curse me with these brain-numbing Voices? I pray to You constantly, my Lord, yet these apparitions haunt me still. It saddens me, King, it deeply troubles me. Please help me, my one and only Savior, please grant me a restful sleep. Do I not deserve that much?

January 24, 1934 I'm so tired...I haven't slept since the 22 of January, and I am so very, very tired. These visions, perhaps they do offer me the Haven I've been searching for? No, no I must not think like this. I must continue to press on and hope my God will save me. Today I went to the town's Library to delve deeper into the meaning of these Voices. I did not find much. But what I did find was somewhat useful to me. Apparently our town used to house a Satanic cult that would listen to "magical voices that would appear in our minds". I believe the voices they refer to, and the Voices that haunt me, are the same being. I can see why the cultists would worship this demonic creature, it is very persuasive and I believe only the strong-willed could resist it for very long. I am going to search for further information on how I can destroy this abomination.

January 27, 1934 I have spent these last few days looking for information. My family grows worried for me, they think I'm becoming obsessed. But how could I not? If I take too long the Darkness will consume me. They are no help, and I have become more and more depressed since my sweet Alexandra has left me. I must win her back. I must, I cannot live without her by my side. But in order for me to get her back, I must quell this evil being. I have found few hints regarding these Voices. I must keep looking.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">January 30, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">She's... she is dead. My love is no longer with me. She tried to stop my research, but I could not let her. She didn't understand, could never understand. I loved her, but the destruction of the Darkness is more important than her. More important than anything. After they discovered her, my family tried to imprison me. I had to kill them, as well. My research must continue. The Voices must be quieted, forever. <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;"> <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 3, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">Now that I'm alone they come to me more frequently. They think I'm weaker on my own, when, in fact, it is the opposite that is true. They call me, but I tune them out.I dig farther and farther into these books and papers. There must be a way to defeat them. Gah! If only it would reveal itself!

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 5, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I might have found something useful! This newspaper clipping I found shows the cultists with what looks like an ancient tool or weapon of some sort. If I can get ahold of this tool, and figure out what needs to be done with it, I may be able to control these Voices!

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 5, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I started my search for this tool as soon as I could, but I first needed to bury the bodies. They were starting to creep me out and I didn't want the neighbors to be able to smell them. Heh, I guess that's a sign I'm not completely insane...yet. I am sure that if I do not rid myself of this terrible menace, I will fully lose my sanity.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 7, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">The people at the Town Library have been very helpful. They were able to help me locate more information on the Cultist's history. It is said that the Cultists would take part in a sacrifice using a special kind of Tool in order to sustain the Voices' extreme bloodlust. If I want to quell the Voices' hold over me, I feel that I must locate the whereabouts of this Tool and use it myself. Or else I fear the worst is yet to come.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 8, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">The Librarians will not help me any longer. They grow afraid of my lust for knowledge and are questioning why I want to know so much. I told them about the Voices speaking to me, and they laughed. I fled their library, never to return. I doubt that anyone else will be willing, or even able, to help me now. But I cannot give up. I must continue my search, alone.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 11, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">It has been a few days, Journal. In my absence I was confronted by one of the Librarians named Simon who said he believed me, and wanted to help. He wants to help me defeat the Voices and end the curse that was thrust upon this town. Together we have been searching for any information regarding the location of their tool, which we are now thinking of as the Weapon. The Cultists have hidden this Weapon very well for we haven't been able to find any trace of it. They are always nearby; I can hear them clearly now. Simon knows what I must live with, even if he doesn't fully understand it; and he helps me fight their temptation, though I know he can't help for long. We must find their Weapon soon, or surely the worst is soon to come.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 15, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">The Dreams are worse now. They want control, total control. I can't fight off their temptations any longer. I must give in. I will be with you soon, my Love. <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;"> <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 19, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I am still alive...unfortunately the same cannot be said for Simon. He wanted to help, but could not possibly have been prepared for the full power of the Voices. They gnawed at my brain, until I could no longer ignore them. I had to kill him. Had to sate their hunger. Once again, I continue alone. But I think I am close to the Weapon. Why else would the Dreams be so much worse, each and every night? The only reason would be because they do not want me finding the Weapon. They know what I plan to do with it. They know, but you don't know, Journal. You don't know, and you will never know.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 20, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I think I may have stumbled upon a hidden map within these notes Simon and I have collected. I may be wrong, but I am sure this is a map and not just random occurrences. The Cultists killed many Townsfolk, but they always buried them in a different spot, so says these notes. I wonder if they buried them in random spots, or if they had an actual reason for each location. This will require more time. Time I am running out of.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 21, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I have done it! Each burial spot, marked on a map of Town, has pointed me to one spot. This spot must surely house the Weapon I am so desperately looking for. Oddly enough, the supposed location...is in the Library. Is this a coincidence? Likely not. More than likely, the Librarians have had some part with these Cultists. I must plan and prepare. It will be difficult to retrieve what belongs to me from that accursed place.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 27, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I have spent this last week doing a sort of "stakeout" of the Library, checking out people's schedules, looking for doors that remain unlocked, typical stuff like that. I finally think I'm ready, however, and will break in tomorrow night.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 28, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">Oh how they torment me so. It becomes more and more unbearable. Simon's death provided some relief, but that was days ago! They grow stronger after each kill, and I know they want me to kill again. Their appetites will never be filled. They will constantly ask me for more and more blood until everyone in Town, nay, everyone in the World will be dead! It is a good thing I will have the Weapon by the end of today. Then I can finally end this. For everyone.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">February 28, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">It has been a few hours into darkness, and still none of the Librarians have left the Library. If none of them leave within the next hour, I'm going to have to break in while they are there.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I was able to infiltrate their lines, and you will not believe this: no one is here! There must be some explanation. Hmm. I am going to take a look around and see if I can find any clues as to the whereabouts of their location.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">One of the more absent-minded Librarians left a note on their desk. It spoke of a meeting in the Antechamber on the first of every month. I'm so stupid! I should have watched them longer. This is going to make getting the Weapon a lot harder, but I can't leave now. Every time I turn towards the Main Door, I am greeted with their shrill cries. Now I must look for the secret Door that leads to the Antechamber.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I was able to locate a Book that did not fit in with the others. By pulling it, I was able to uncover the secret Passage that I'm sure leads to the Antechamber. I'm not sure if I will return, or even get a chance to record while I am down there. So if that is the case, then this is goodbye, my Journal, and thank you. <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;"> <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">Down the stairs I went, only to find that it leads to a long hallway with doors marking each side. I took count and saw that there are twenty-five in all: twelve on each side and one at the far end. I am sure that the one at the far end leads to the Antechamber and I do not wish to go there just yet. I fear that the Librarians are all in there, doing some sort of ritual, or the needed sacrifice to the Voices. I tried each door and the only one thats is unlocked is the one closest to the Antechamber door, on the left side. This is where I sit, writing this down, before I have to continue through the door, and face my destiny. The room is empty and bare except for bloodstains on the floor and shackles on one wall. The blood looks fresh, and the shackles are new. I do believe this was used as a Cell or something like one. Maybe to house the sacrifices? More than likely.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I went through the door and noticed how dark it suddenly became. The whole room was only lit by candlelight, and it looked like there was only five candles in the entire room. They appeared to be arranged in the shape of a star, with a figure on their knees in the middle. I could faintly see the outlines of what I guess must be the Librarians. The figure in the middle has to be the sacrifice for the month. Nobody turned their head when I entered so I'm certain I am safe...for now.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I just realized something. The Voices won't end with me. Not with the Librarians still around, performing their sacrifices. I will have to kill them. Kill all of them, or else people will still end up getting hurt. As soon as I can spot the Weapon, this will end.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I watched as the Chanting began. It was a mix of their voices as well as the Voices. Their Voices combined made my brain feel like it was splitting apart, but I pushed through. I have to keep watch for the Weapon. There! The Librarian at the peak of the candlelight star started to make his way to their victim. I could see him pull an object from some hidden pocket. That must be the Weapon! I will have to take it from him by force.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">He was almost upon his victim when I struck, knocking him and the Weapon to the ground. The Chanting immediately stopped, but I paid no heed. I picked up the Weapon and looked up just in time to dodge one of their attacks. They were swarming me, trying to get back their precious item. I slowly backed up to the door, cutting hands with my newly acquired Knife as they got too close. Reaching the door, I turned and ran through the hallway and up the stairs. They caught me just as I reached the Front Door, and dragged me back towards the Antechamber. They took the Knife and threw me into what I'm sure is the only empty room in the hallway. The one I was in earlier. I was lucky they didn't search me, or they would have taken you, my Journal, and you're the last friend I have. They will probably kill me, just like the girl currently in the Antechamber. I can hear her screaming and know it won't be pleasant. I can only hope I will take a few of their numbers before it is my Time.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March ?, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I fell asleep, and am no longer sure what day it is. I think it is the second but just to be sure I will mark the date with a question mark. I have neither seen nor heard any signs of life since the girl's screams. I'm assuming I will be fed at some point, but I hope it's soon. My stomach is starting to rumble.

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">March ??, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I have lost all track of day or night in this hellhole. There are no windows, no signs of light at all. I can only guess it is morning when they bring me "breakfast" if you can call it that. I can't, but at least I'm being fed. The waiting is terrible. Nothing to do all day but listen to the Voices and sit here, trying to resist Them. It isn't going so well...

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">????? ??, ???? <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">I have no idea what day it is. Or if it is even the same month. I can hear them, the Librarians, not the Voices. They must be preparing. Which means it is almost the first again. I wonder how much longer I must wait for my End?

<span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">April 1, 1934 <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">It must be the first of April. I hear them gathering outside my door. The Ritual must be about to begin. Goodbye, my Journal. I thank you for your companionship and I am sorry I failed. <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">_________________________________________________________________________________ <span style="color:white;font-family:Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif;line-height:18px;">This is Ramien. I am one of the librarians that the owner of this journal has been writing about. The others wanted to burn it, but I was able to convince them to let me keep it. We may seem evil to Mark, and those of you reading this in the future, but we are not. We are just trying to protect ourselves and our families from the voices that invades our thoughts. It is something that everyone must deal with, in their own way. For Mark, it was casting the blame on others, and going pretty much insane. For us, the librarians, we must live day by day in a lie. Lying to ourselves and our loved ones that the voices stay away from us if we just feed it a little blood. We believe that they are sufficed with our sacrifices.....they are not. They will never be content with a little blood. They want it all. And I'm sure sooner, rather than later, they will take it all. So if you start to hear some strange voices in your head, or start to have some very weird dreams, it's ok. It just means that it is finally your time. Good Luck.