John started to go through Delafield’s notebook, trying to find some clue as to what was going on. Most of the data in this notebook was rambling and would take time for him to decipher it. One of the images Delafield had drawn was of a creature, the likes of which John had never before seen in his life.
It was humanoid in its basic appearance, but it had some sort of metallic-looking arms that ended with claws on its hands, large dragon-like wings, and a reptilian snout, not unlike a crocodile with six eyes. Its outline was done in crude pencil while the picture itself was inked in, in some sort of weird homage to obsidian as the color. Beneath the drawing was written the words: ‘The Dark Ones’.
John’s initial thoughts on this drawing were that the image was simply a figment of Professor Delafield’s fevered imagination. However, as much as he tried to dismiss it and look elsewhere, something about the creature depicted on the page forced him to continue looking.
It was the eyes of the monster that entranced him. John could feel himself becoming hypnotized as the thing, whatever it was, drew him into the page with its penetrating stare. Those eyes, they seemed so alive, so real…
And then John was no longer in his room. He seemed to be standing amongst a vast field of structures constructed with black stone. On each stone was etched a form of writing, of the kind he had been pondering over, just a few short hours ago, Sumerian Cuneiform, and they were all covered in dust and debris.
Somehow, John knew that he was standing in Eridu, looking through Delafield’s eyes. Seeing what the Professor had seen in 1895.
The standing stones, or stele, seemed to go on for miles; their writing was very strange, made no sense, and was disturbing in the extreme.
I must be dreaming, John told himself, this can’t be real. Yet even in this knowledge, the sheer beauty of the place engulfed him. John/Delafield began to walk slowly around the stele and their associated structures, being careful not to touch the writing on the surface, while he desperately tried to wake up.
Then John/Delafield saw it, the monster in the notebook and it could only be described as a truly diabolical creature. However, this time it was not a picture, but an enormous, and living, monstrosity.
John/Delafield was rooted to the ground in fear as he/they stared at its huge form, which seemed to tower above them, encased in what seemed to be glass. It’s ebon-colored, scaly skin, had a sheen that one would usually associate with obsidian, its thick, leathery wings and its crocodile-like head, were unmoving.
However, what John/Delafield heard was a disembodied voice emanate from the creature, as if it were being projected into his/their head, “We are the Dark Ones, serve us and live, oppose us and die.”
John/Delafield was still unable to run and the clawed, leathery hands of the monster began to wrap themselves around John/Delafield, all the while that demonic chant getting louder and louder until it felt like his/their head was about to explode.
John/Delafield was picked up off of the ground and brought up to the monster’s head. It looked at him/them with one of its evil red eyes and the fear became too much. John/Delafield began to scream hysterically, writhing uselessly in the grip of the creature.
As suddenly as he had been whisked away, John found himself back in his room, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. He was lying on the wooden floor and remained in a fetal position for an unknown amount of time, his mind needed time to process what he had just seen.
All the while, John stared into the darkness and reminisced on the terrors of the waking dream and the creature that he had seen, while also remembering the words of the creature: “We are the Dark Ones.”
Who, or what, are the Dark Ones? John thought in rising terror.
Suddenly John jumped to his feet and picked up the notebook, and just as suddenly he jumped backwards in fright, only barely managing to stifle a scream. John was certain that the image in the notebook had moved, although his rational mind had scolded him, and told him that the notion was ludicrous.
The scaled arms had seemed to extend out of the page towards his face. However, John was sure that he had tricked himself into believing that the picture was moving and it had done so only as a result of his exhaustion.
Real or not, John needed to steel himself, if he was to stop the portal from opening later this evening. If he did not, he was sure that he would flee this town, and never look back, allowing the evil to fully manifest itself, to the detriment of all of mankind.
John cautiously picked up the notebook once again. This time the picture remained inanimate. He continued on with reading the notebook, but most of it seemed to ramble on, not making much sense, until he came across the following: “The Ea-Su, they are our only hope, and they are here, in Two Harbors. I MUST FIND THEM!!”
