The journey.

Albion’s journal.

Entry 95.

This story was written down by a young woman who I had great pleasure talking with and feel a lot of sympathy for, sometimes this job in the asylum seems like too much, there is so much pain, but I know that I do help some of these patients, and that’s the most important thing. Sometimes in my compassion, I make awful mistakes. Here is the story of Mary Halifax.

“My day began as any other day in my life, at least thats how it looked to everyone around me, but they didn’t know my secret. I have saved up for a few years, some would say what I planned was reckless, but I was going to leave my hometown in Georgia and travel all the way to Rhode Island. I was going to start a new life there. Being quiet a good writer, I had developed a relationship with a lady there who owned a popular magazine and she has promised me a spot.

I acted as if nothing was going on, but inside I was both nervous and excited, I wasn’t sure why I chose that place, for several other closer locations could be right for me also, its as if something spoke to me when I saw a poster with their coast. It wasn’t your typical beach type of poster, the water looked cold as it hit the black cliffs, above stood a lighthouse, why did it enchant me so?

I had already prepared a small bag I was taking with me, I couldn’t take much, for I was only eighteen and my family would do anything to stop me if they found out. My bus ticket was ready and I was ready for the journey. I could only afford the most daunting route, with layovers and bus swaps and even one train ride.

That evening I hugged my parents tight, fear began to grow inside of me, but I overcame it and as I stepped out the front door of the house I spent all if my eighteen years in, took a deep breath and exhaled. I planned to write them a letter once I settled in the new place, but for now I was sure they would freak out and I said a silent prayer for them.

The bus was the last one and it was quiet dark when I was waiting for it at the stop. Several meters from me stood a man in all black long coat and hat, half his face was hidden by the shadow, but I could see his eyes and time to time he would glance at me, it felt discomforting, yes men have looked and stared at me before, but the way he looked at me wasn’t that. His eyes were piercing and deep and his gaze carried a heavy sense of danger with it. Finally the bus arrived and I wanted him to get on first, but he stood there without moving, staring at me. I got on and sat closest to the driver. The man entered after me and he thankfully went all the way to the back. I leaned against the glass and mentally said goodbye to my hometown as bus began to move.

Emotionally I was exhausted even though it was just the start of my journey, so I fell asleep. When I opened my eyes, the man in black was sitting right across from me, behind the driver. Something moved inside his sleeve and a tentacle appeared. I screamed. This is when I actually woke up, I looked around the bus and saw several passengers staring at me rather unpleasantly, I must have screamed outside of my nightmare. The man in black was no longer on the bus and I asked the driver about him, he said that the man got of on the previous stop and that he was almost at his final stop. In an hour I had to find a place to stay, it was very early morning and the next bus that was taking me further up wasn’t coming until nighttime.

I saw a rather strange looking cab on the side of the station I was dropped of at, it had no official markings on it and the man who stood by it offered me a ride to an inn, he was dressed in a wrinkly shirt and dirty pants. I politely declined. He remained there looking for others to take up the offer. Strangely I saw no other drivers around and finally I had to approach him again, he laughed and said it’ll be no time before I arrive at a nice inn. About twenty minutes after departing with him the signs and the roads all lead away from the town where my next stop was, I asked him what he was doing. He laughed again and told me not to worry, but I got even more terrified. Finally we arrived at a red inn by the coast, it was located in close proximity from a lighthouse which I could clearly see. The man told me this was a great place to stay and that he’d be back to take me to the station later. He left and I felt relief, thinking that I misjudged him. An older lady greeted me there and she was gracious in charging me less to just have a room to rest in for half a day and to get a small meal. It was a tiny comfortable room with a table by the window which had a beautiful view of the ocean. The lady knocked on my door and brought me eggs, tomato and milk. As I ate the food and tried to calm my nerves I couldn’t help but think about my parents and hometown, despite this beautiful ocean view in front of me.

I opened the window and fell asleep in bed to the sound of the ocean. When I woke up there was a sound of car engine and some voices outside, it was already night time and I desperately looked at my small pocket watch thinking I missed my next bus, but I still had two hours. I got my bag and went to the door, as I exited I saw the man who brought me here standing outside of his car talking to someone, as I got closer I saw it was the man in black from my first bus! My heart pounded as I ran to the main room of the inn. The old lady tried to calm me down, but I kept begging her to take me to the station, she called her husband, an old grey gentleman. To my tremendous relief he agrees to take me in his car.

We went to the back of the building and got in. It was an old model and ran rather dismally slow, but I still had plenty of time. As he drove he was hunched over forward, having hard time seeing the road in the dark even with glasses on. This wasn’t very reassuring especially when we entered the part surrounded by trees. With his bad vision I was somewhat thankful that he drove slow, but not for long. Soon another light appeared behind us and a newer and larger car began to tailgate us. I understood their frustration, but then to my horror they began hitting us. It must have been that man! I shook in my seat praying, the old man was losing control of the car and then the larger car hit us from the side and we went of road hitting a tree.

I fell out of the car and miraculously landed in a soft bush. The old man wasn’t so lucky. His body was hanging out of the car with head smashed. Terrified I ran through the trees, on the other side in the distance I saw lights. I ran out unto the road and saw that same car turning towards me, but the bus and train station was right in front of me, with people and a police car. I desperately ran there and when I looked back, the car was gone. I sat on the bench cold sweating and shaking with fear. I glanced at my pocket watch, there was ten minutes left till my next bus, which was suppose to take me to outskirts of New York City.

When the bus arrived I timidly lined up with others, most have already gave me various looks of either concern or judgement. I once again sat close to the driver. Once all were in we set out back on the road. I found it very hard to sleep unlike everyone else in the bus. The driver said that I look very concerned and even scared, he then asked where I was headed. I probably shouldn’t have told him, but I did. He looked almost shocked at me, shaking his head he implied that if the bus was empty he’d turn it around and take me back to my hometown, for what I was doing he found to be reckless, dangerous and inconsiderate to my family. I hung my head in shame. I was upset with his words, but also glad that he was a man of good morals. He proceeded to speak with a kinder tone and told me I should to get a ticket back once we arrive at the main station close to New York City. He took out some money and handed it to me, I refused, but he said that he will not take no for answer, so I accepted with great gratitude. He simply nodded and did not speak rest of the way. I wish I had taken his advice. It was early morning when we arrived, I slept very little. The driver nodded to me and wished good luck as I thanked him and left the bus.

My next travel was to be by train, from New York City to Boston and from there I had to find someone who would take me by car.

Train station in New York was the largest I’ve seen yet. It was busy, the air was filled with sounds, it had to be soul crushing to constantly live in a place surrounded by such noise. I showed my ticket and sat in the coach area, the seats were small and narrow. Several people in fancy cloths passed by and went to the private rooms. It would have been nice to lay down, alas, I had to sit and use window as my pillow once again. My thoughts seemed to attract certain things as a man with a big belly sat across from me. He was well dressed and he asked me if I was tired, as I said yes and wanted to close my eyes he said that I should go and lay in his room and he’ll take care of me. This made my skin crawl, but instead of saying the nasty things I wanted to answer with, I was almost paralyzed from his piggish audacity, but I am sure my face showed all of my disgust as he angrily got up and left.

The trip seemed to be hard at every corner. Perhaps my worldview was too naive while living in my hometown and under protection of family. Despite these struggles I somehow had hope for a great outcome.

Indeed I finally slept and no one else bothered me on the train all the way to Boston. I should rather say outskirts of Boston, for we arrived in what looked like a nice old little town. This was my stop and from here on I had to find someone who could drive me to my destination for a fee. Despite the sleep I got, the exhaustion was still leeching on to me as I barely dragged my feet and felt my stomach growling. I walked into the town’s main street and found a small cafe. I had to be careful with how much I spent until I got to my destination and began to write for the magazine. So, with that in mind I ordered a coffee and a pastry. I sat by the window with the street view and slowly enjoyed my meal, if it could be called that. Suddenly, I froze and I felt blood drain from my face as I saw the same man in black walking down the opposite street from the cafe. I hid my face behind a curtain and when I looked again he was gone. My heart was pounding desperately again and with horror pulsing through my body I approached the cafe owner and asked where I could pay for a ride. He told me where to go, it was a man who lived at the end of town according to him.

I cautiously peeked out of the cafe and looked around. I only saw few men who looked like fishermen. They were headed in the same direction as me. Once I reached the address and knocked, a large muscular middle aged man with a broad black beard opened the door. He was quick to the point after I asked him if he could take me, he named the price and said if that works for me we could go immediately. This was great considering I saw that man in bkack again. I followed him to a red car and shortly after we were on the road by the coast. It was great passing charming hamlets, villages and port towns, I was finally seeing that coast that enchanted me and then as I was looking outside I began to hear a voice inside my head, beckoning me into the sea. It felt strange for it should have been a scary sensation, but I felt no fear.

Night came and shortly before our arrival I fell asleep only to wake up to wild scream, shaking and screeching of tires. I became instantly alert as we drove of the road and into the field. The man yelled to me that a group of people jumped out unto the road and attacked the car. I looked back and saw men with lamps running towards the us, among them a tall person in a black hood. My driver yelled for me to run as he took out a large knife. I did what he said, but turned around as I heard him confront those people, two of them looked like the fishermen from the town. The driver stabbed one of them as few others backed of seeing their accomplice fall down in pain, bleeding. Then the tall man in the black hood approached, he raised his hand covered in a long sleeve and out of it, to my shock and horror, shot out thin tentacles, they wrapped around both of the drivers arms and forced him to his knees, then all the other men swarmed around him, beating him. I began to run again, but I had no idea where, I could hear the waves in the distance and ran towards the coast. I heard them gaining ground behind me, I began to cry as I got to the cliffs. They were close! Then just as in my desperation I was about to jump someone grabbed my hand, it was the man in the black coat and hat. He told me to follow him. He took out two revolvers and began to shoot, dropping one fishermen after another. I stayed behind him as we moved along the cliffs and after he emptied his revolvers only the tall hooded thing was standing and following us. The man reloaded one revolver and shot at it, accurately each time, the thing dropped down, this is where he pulled me and yelled that it was not dead and we had to move fast. I kept running with him until we reached his car that he hid along the road. He pushed me in and began to drive as fast as he could. I could not believe what I saw next as we drove near the coast. A giant creature with many tentacles emerged from the water and was following us along the road letting out a horrific scream. In my absolute terror I passed out.

When I woke up it was morning. The sun rays gently peeked through the windows. We were parked in an unfamiliar town. The man in black had his hat of as he got back into the car, he no longer looked scary to me, but my mind was in pieces. He looked at me with an understanding look. As he began to drive again he proceeded to explain that he had been following a cult worshiping that creature and that he could hear the creatures voice in his head, every time this cult chose a mark for their sacrifice to this monster, he tried to follow that person and act in the right moment. It all sounded so surreal to me. When we were back in the southern parts of the country I had a nervous breakdown and blacked out. As he delivered me back to my parents I thought the nightmare would end, but one of the nights while sleeping I cut my own wrists while hearing the voices in my head. I barely survived and now I am being helped by a great doctor in Parkhorst Asylum. He is convinced that soon I will get better.”

Indeed upon finishing my work with Mary Halifax, I, doctor Albion signed papers for her released, but to my most terrible and painful heartache, a few weeks later I was informed that Mary was missing again.