February 17th, 1943
Doctor Deacon Pennyworth,
Hello. It has been three years since I saw you, and I think that it’s time I tell the truth. The truth of what happened seven years ago. As I told you before, I was investigating a small series of murders in Arkham, New Hampshire. The Chief told the public that it was the infamous serial killer, Zadok Graham. However, unknown to the public, the ‘suspect’ was a victim. The six bodies all had a few things in common, slit throat, finger prints removed, personal belongings taken, it felt so personal. Unfortunately, there was one detail that I left out. I didn’t think it would be that important to the case or the future, but I soon realized its importance. All the victims were previously involved in cult activities, either worshiper, leader, or provider.
I did some private digging with the victim’s families outside of the case and found that they were all part of the same cult. I began to do more digging and found that the cult had been around since 1813, and having the same leader called ‘The Helper’, which is impossible, because that would mean that he’s over 100 years old. The cult worships a strange creature called ‘The All One’, who is said to be responsible for the creation of the universe. The cult recruits its members by using a dagger coated with a strange liquid that rewrites the normal functions of the brain. It has a strange and mysterious color that I’ve never seen on earth. They stab the victim and the liquid reaches the brain, changing it. How they do that is beyond me, but I need to get to the important parts.
Before my second visit, I was stabbed by a hooded man. Although the knives size was large, I had no clear injuries, not even a stab wound. Three days later, I started to hear voices in my head, and began to do things without control. I started talking to people that I did not know, mentioning places I have never been to or even heard of, and the worst, killing people and taking them to an abandoned sewer in New York. I’ve been infected with this liquid and am being forced to serve this cult. Every so often, I have small breaks where I can control my actions. I can have my morals and humanity back, and I use these breaks to try and find out more about the cult and trying to break free from their control. The infection is getting worse, and the breaks aren’t as long anymore. All the people I’ve killed, innocent men, even fellow police and detectives.
I am writing this to you, because you need to spread the word about them. They could destroy the world if they get everyone, but there is a catch. When someone leaves or knows too much, they find and kill them. Chances are that you already know too much, and now they are coming for you. I have done everything that I could to try and make them not kill you, but they won’t listen. They refuse to use you, because you know too much. I thank you for everything that you have done and wish that it didn’t have to be this way. If I manage to find you before they do, I will explain everything.
My regards, Detective Harvey Wallace