Acquisition #0478-1175 Transcript
The full transcript of Acquisition #0478-1175 is as follows. For more information visit the Archivist-in-Residence update post on the subject.
Cyrus,
Page 1 of Acquisition #0478-1175. All pages may be viewed on the Collection page.
I saw it. I saw the monster that haunts me. It was shortly after you left, when I was still in the thrall of our tryst. I am not mad, I am as sane as I have ever been. The rose-hued thing that has haunted my periphery has made itself known. You left in the morning, by mid-day the sound had slowly enveloped my home. Its shadows began to envelope me, glowing with warmth and seduction. All of a sudden, as if I had stumbled into the calm before the squall, the humming and glow receded. It was like that night so many months ago. Just as suddenly as it had come to me, it was gone. I am afraid that is not the end of this tale, as it then made its physical presence known.
I was jolted out of my stupor by the sound of a pot rustling and falling in the kitchen. As I gazed upon the doorframe, that familiar glow began to pulse. This time, instead of enveloping me, it was leaking out of the kitchen through the door into the den. It must have manifested at the wall, just out of sight, until it reached its wretched pink claw around the door. As if it were a drunkard stabilizing himself using architecture, the thing gracelessly shifted its weight from left to right and I could see its entirety. This rotund figure at first appeared to be a naked hirsute man silhouetted in a blushed halo, but as it made its way into the den I began to see what it truly was. Much like a freshly born deer covered in placenta learning to walk it quickly grasped how to keep itself upright as it shuffled across my desk leaving its visceral residue in its wake. I could not discern if it had flesh or fur or scales but imprinted on its body were primitive geometric designs that somehow resembled the complexities of a carnation. It was at that moment I remembered Miss Carter and her slate.
I then saw its mouth. A fur covered maw that smiled and gnashed and drooled with a perverse intensity that was as grotesque as it was compelling. I could not determine where it aimed its gaze as it was covered in a multitude of false eyes not unlike a moth. I felt I knew this beast somehow. That it was a part of me, a part of us, a part of people like us. It reached for me, opened its mouth, and sang. I do not know whether it was any discernible language either modern or of antiquity, but the sound that came out of its throat can only be described as a fervent singing. A voice that better resembled a slurred ostinato rather than the fluidity of a tenor. In spite of this it seemed to harmonize with the hum that surrounds it. It began to create hauntingly beautiful melodies, jumping from phrase to phrase, occasionally returning to a particular leitmotif that it seemed to take pleasure in repeating.
It seemed to desire communicating with me, but not by words or conversation, but by song. It seemed to be a warning. It seemed to force me into a dialectic of comfort and fear. Not fear for the thing itself, but for what its presence implies. It was not trying to scare me that fateful night months ago, nor at Miss Carters’ abode, nor the countless other times it has stalked the edges of my sight. It was trying to connect to me and warn me of something, that must be what it was doing. The size of this thing – it could have easily overpowered me and gutted me right then and there yet it did not. Instead it sang a sublime hymn that remains firmly planted in my mind.
I must have blacked out at this point, as the next thing I remember is waking up in my bed. Your scent lingers on the pillows and I thought it all a terrible dream. I embraced the empty pillow next to me imagining it was your face and made my way downstairs. I was content to rule this out a terrible nightmare after a wonderful week, had it not been for the dried pink stains upon my stationary you are holding now.
I must emphasize that I do not feel threatened by this thing, but it is imperative I leave at once. Its haunting glow gives off an uncanny feeling of comfort that terrifies me as much as it soothes. If I am going mad, I wish to go mad in your arms. I cannot sleep as I fear it will return. I am gathering my things and will be arriving at your doorstep by next Tuesday. I care not for my fellowship or my colleagues or my career, I only care that I am with you. I pray this letter reaches you before I do as it will at the very least give you proper warning of my impending arrival. With any luck this letter will be on the train after yours and you will receive it by weeks’ end.
I fear my sails and rudders are beyond my control and I desperately need my anchor before the sea consumes me.
In any case, with all the love in my heart, I am yours,
Niklaus
Page 3 of Acquisition #0478-1175. All pages may be viewed on the Collection page.
