Letters of the unjust, by Hierophant-Ilpala.
came to me in a dream.
And the Occulum Psychotus came to me in a dream too.
Or should I say, it intruded my dreams in ways too dreadful to even describe.
It is my second week at Bali's, still waiting for Atlanta to contact me concerning the operation Hennessey X.
I was instructed to study this peculiar member of the Occulum species by local natives, who are also pathetic members of a local cargo cult.
The warplanes of the americans dropped thousands and thousands of aid supplies and general supplies to their troops during the great war, and some of this cargo ended up in native hands in the pacific. They believed their ancestors graced them with such gifts and began to practice these activities they had seen the soldiers perform - more like rituals to them, I believe.
In time, making rural airstrips and waving torches at the sky replaced their original, millenia-old culture. They never got any cargo though, it has been over 60 years since the war ended, and with it - packages of hope from the sky gods.
Nevertheless, armed with this knowledge, I entered their habitat and asked them to lead me to this crazed fish of the clear waters.
I found it after couple of hours of freeform diving, a shrouded mystery from the textbooks I used to read back in England.
It came to me, looked into my eyes and I immediately passed out, shocked to the core by it's psychokinesis and burned my brain nerves.
I woke up on the beach, almost twelve hours later and remember nothing of how I got there.
This beast still haunts me, it implanted a seed of its own dark consciousness inside my soul.
I wish she was here, I wish Atlanta was here.