//-------------------------------------------------------// The Journal of John Farland -by roker12- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// The Journal //-------------------------------------------------------// The Journal One stormy evening, in the town of Farland, there was a castle. The castle was run down and very old, the origins of it are unknown. The castle was called Castle Farland, and soon after they built it, a pony named Jack moved in. He lived there for a long time, secluded from the town, not coming out of his castle for anything. After a long time, he mysteriously disappeared, but no one really knew, until the owner’s nephew, John, went for a visit to find no one was in. John wasn't so broken by the loss, especially now that he has inherited the castle from his uncle. However, about a year later, he too mysteriously disappeared. The town knew sooner, because he actually went into town sometimes, and he had friends. The disappearances have left many wondering, others frightened, and some intrigued, as to what had happened. The town had decided that someone should investigate, so they went to find the town detective. When they found him sitting in his office, they told him the story of the disappearances, and he said he would go to the castle for work. “My, my, this is one big castle.” The detective said to himself. “I suppose there must be a front door.” After looking for the front door, and eventually finding it, he walked in. “This place is absolutely gorgeous!” The detective shouted, hearing his own echo. “Now, where to start. Perhaps the master bedroom would hold some clues.” The detective said. As he walked up to the bedroom and through the corridors, he came upon some weird artwork. Some depicted people being eaten alive by massive creatures, and others were so messed up that you couldn’t tell what was trying to be said. The detective searched the rooms around the bedroom, and found very little. There were some old forks and knives, a knife collection it seemed, many pieces of junk, some weird smelling objects, some closets filled to the brim with clothing, and other things irrelevant to the job at hand. When the detective entered the master bedroom, he could tell something was wrong. It was the way the air moved, the way the room smelled, his instincts going wild and telling him to leave immediately and never look back. But something held the detective in place, something that had caught his eye, something he knew was extremely important. So he walked to it. And it said: John’s journal The detective pulled the book to his hands, out of the drawer it was sticking out of, and opened it to the first page. It read: January 1st, 1985 Today is the first day that I found out that my uncle’s home belonged to me, it was more of a shock than anything else, because I thought it belonged to the government then, but apparently not. I am throwing a party to celebrate the new home, and I am inviting the whole town. “Ahhh, I remember that day, the day of the castle party. It was a shame I could not attend.” The detective said. He could not go due to his daughter being in the hospital. He put the memory out of his mind, reminded himself that he had to read. He continued: January 3rd, 1985 The party was smashing! I wish I could do it again sometime soon, however, I think it is time that I look into this house more, after all, I have not seen it all, and this place may hold some fun to be had in it. January 4th, 1985 After exploring for a day I have come to realize something, this place is huge! I need to go into this more, I’ll bring me journal as well. January 6th, 1985 I have made my way through the first floor of the house and I have decided to look around more carefully, there were many locked doors on the first floor that I want to go into, goodnight. January 7th, 1985 While looking around, I have found many keys hidden in drawers, showers, cabinets, and weird places such as in the blender, I wonder what he was trying to do. I’ve unlocked most of the doors, and in them are mostly more oil for my lamp, some matchboxes, weird belongings, and one object that fascinated me. It was some type of knife, spiraled at the blade, and it had a gripped handle, I wonder what he used it for. There is one door on the 2nd floor that I can’t open, and I can’t find the key anywhere, oh well. I suppose it is in another area of the house, tomorrow I go into the basement, I found the basement key earlier today. January 8th, 1985 There were the strangest of things in the basement. It looked as if there were no attempt at making it look cleanly at all. And I think I was hallucinating from the lack of light, (I ran out of oil in my lamp) but I thought there was someone following me. Definitely a hallucination, but it felt so real. I do not know what to make of this, but there were also many disturbing aspects of the basement that made me feel uncomfortable down there. The whole basement felt cold and worthless, like it was alive, and no hope was remaining. The walls feel like they are molding themselves, but no matter, I shall see what will happen tomorrow. January 10th, 1985 It has been two days since my last entry and I have to so say, I’m slightly terrified by my findings. (This part is a little disturbing, read at your own risk) It was as if my uncle was a murderer, there was one room with slaughtered pigs everywhere! It smelled horrible in there, and it didn’t help that some of the pigs were rotting! I have only told the tip of the shadow of this horrifying scene. There was blood everywhere! There was blood on the floor, on the walls, on the ceiling, on the pigs, and… on the paintings. The paintings were horrifying to say the least, with the blood it looked like the inside of a murderer’s home. I want to leave but, it looks like I can’t. Somehow the doors locked behind me, and I have no way of getting out, I must escape! January 15th, 1985 So help me god… January 16th, 1985 In that last entry, I had no other words to say, I had gotten a large cut on my foreleg, I don’t remember any sharp things in this basement, but I know that I am INDEED being followed. I don’t know what it is but I know that I must get out. Get out of this dreaded home and never return. I hope that I can survive longer, my wound isn't looking very nice, and my bandage work is coming off. I better go. The detective stopped for a minute, as when he read that last sentence, he heard something, something shook. “Is anyone there?” The detective said, to no answer. His entire body was screaming at him to leave, but he stood there, and decided to continue reading. January 18th, 1985 No more, please no more. I just want to leave. Why can’t they just let me leave? What is going on, I don’t know. How do I escape this place, I don’t know. What the monsters are, I don’t know. How they exist, I don’t know. Why I’m asking all these questions into my book… I.DONT.KNOW!  What do I do, what can I do. There are things in this home, and they aren’t friendly. They are out to get me. One almost killed me today, and I barely escaped. One got me on the back, another on the other forearm, what is there to do now? I just want to leave. January 19th. 1985 It just keeps getting worse, doesn’t it? Nothing is happening other than getting chased constantly by these monsters, and they are changing I think. There isn’t just one single monster, there are lots, and all look differently. The most common actually look equestrian in a way, however their bodies are all stitched and open in areas. They have no lower jaw, and their lips are pulled to their collar bones, they have knife like hooves that can cut your bones in half with one swipe. The others have the same body, but one is just plain disturbing, its head is cut in two, it looks like that’s where his mouth is. He doesn't have a left forearm, and his right has a giant blade attached, it is the size of his hindleg. He is part metal, with his legs being held up by metal and his forearm being metal, it is quite scary. I’m going to bed now, I hope I live. January 20th, 1985 There was a new monster today, and it surprised me a lot too. I was in the lower bowels of the basement and I heard a voice, I was so excited and rather scared, if there was another person down here, what would happen? I went to investigate, and as I got closer, I could make out some words: “Come back to me, where are you my lover? Please come back!” It was shouting for someone. I went in, only to find that there wasn’t a person, but another monster. This one looked like a limping pony, with dirty pink skin and all stitched up. There were no eyes in its eye sockets, and its mouth was agape. It had chains on its forearms, and started swinging them when it saw me. It looked like it had a chandelier in its neck, but with spikes piercing it at all angles, and fresh blood was always pouring out. When it saw me, it yelled: “There you are my pretty, come here to me!” I started to run, and I hid in a room with a dresser, I hid in it until it left, crying: “Where did you go? Please come back! I don’t want to be alone again.” Then it was gone. It reminded me of someone who had just lost a loved one, maybe the person had when he or she was turned into that thing, if that actually happened. I hope I never run into that thing again. Also, I forgot to mention, there are these bottles called: Sanity Potions, and Ladnadinadium. I have no clue who made them or how, but one makes me feel more sane, and the other makes my cuts almost vanish by the morning, if it actually is morning, I can’t tell down here. I suppose I’ll get to bed now, good night. January 21st, 1985 Nothing. Just fright. January 22nd, 1985 Again, not much. Just some more potions and oil, but I did find a little golden statue that I can carry, I feel good carrying him, so I’ll hold onto him. January 23rd, 1985 Finally, something good has happened to me! I found the way out of this place, a trapdoor (manhole) that leads to the surface, I need a ladder to get out, but I can’t find one anywhere. There appears to be no clear way to get out otherwise, as there are no hoof-holds or anything, so ladder it is. Also I found a note, left by… my uncle. It tells of what happened to him, he said the same things with not much of a difference of my experiences. However, it seemed that he was much more scout-like then me, and found many more keys. I need to do what he did if I want out. I am going to find a way to escape, all I need now is that ladder. January 25th, 1985 So much, too little time. I have found out the real concept of these monsters and the signs. OH GOD, THE SIGNS! I have forgotten to write about them! I don’t know how I could forget, but there have been signs. They are like warnings, in blood. Literally, blood! This is no fluke, like in the movies, no this is real life. I am terrified, but lately there have been spell looking things appearing on the floors of rooms I have already seen. They are too made of blood, but they are gaining in number. And now they are starting to glow a bright red. They are trying to summon something. I don’t know what it is they are trying to summon, but any type of dark magic isn’t good. So much to think about, so much to explore, but I must get out. I found a ladder, broken apart, and I am starting to run to it now! I am running to get to the ladder, and I hear voices. It’s the Suitors! That’s what they are called! I am running now! R u nningfor  my life! My w riting ma y look s loppy,  bu t  tha at is a llbecaus e I mu st run! There is theatlader! Runnning! Claimbing! OH CEL ESTI A! IT HA S MY LEG! HELP, HELP, FIND THIS NOT E BOO K, A ND SAV E ME!! SAVE ME!! SAV It stops there. The detective looked around to see where he was, it felt like forever since he started reading. He looked to see that he was still in the master bedroom, but it felt different. How did the book get up here, if he was caught in the basement. It is almost impossible, unless. Yes, there were signs now on the floor, just like the basement. The detective looked to the next pages, it was torn up, almost as if a monster tried to........ carry it. Oh Celestia. The detective heard something, then. Nothing. The end?