EPIGRAPH

They say the gods and goddesses used to walk the earth long ago before being cast up into the heavens. I wonder . . . what if it were true? What if some of them actually did return to visit us from time to time in the moments that we needed them most. I think it's possible. No, actually, I think they have.

Leo Solstrom, Northern Lights

He loved the darkness and the mystery of the Catholic service--the tall priest strutting like a carrion crow and pronouncing magic in a dead language, the immediate magic of the Eucharist bringing the dead back to life so that the faithful could devour Him and become of Him, the smell of incense and the mystical chanting.

Dan Simmons, The Terror.

E01 -The Portrait of Dorian Gray

I had just returned from my travels because I had grown deeply nostalgic, I had been long away from my home the beautiful city of London where I'd grown, oh how I missed it, traveling all of Europe was all fun and luxurious and my travels spanned 5 long years.

I painted voraciously anytime I had long yearning for home

I remember mostly of when the dusk would hit the furrows of my stately manor, I would sit on my rocking chair like an old man watching as the sun slowly made its exist.

The beauty of nature could sometimes defile the soul of men

Wrecking and imbuing a thirst for something that is quite unreachable, any heart that could not appreciate the serenity of peace that nature granted was indeed damned.

My purpose in Europe and Africa was not at all luxurious, if I had failed to mention any of my supernatural encounter then I must apologize.

I was born with a curse at birth to notice the the secret that lied beyond our own ethereal plane.

As a child I was troubled and burdened with visions and sights of unholy things, that would keep me up, sometimes almost driving me insane.

And in some instances my my parents would send me away to a sanatorium to purge me of my eerie disturbances,

but even the most skilled doctors had no panacea for my mental ailments.

I was indeed a peculiar and strange child, I was lonely and no one could understand me.

My life was an enormous volume of the macbre

I had an uncontrollable recollection of things I could not explain and this filled me with dread strangely beyond anything I could imagine.

It was like an an involuntary switch I had no control of, growing up I mostly found things in people I should not have noticed, like

a voice, a phantom an apparition, I was haunted by these oddities.

it was as if God himself delegated these horrors unto me knowing fully I would be tormented, casting me forth into an abyss

in my teenage years I could no longer turn a blind eye to this strangeness.

I started a deep research into demonology, and any thing that could help me banish these malignant cruelty that hunted me.

I befriended a priest, who lectured me lengthly on the subject of angels and demons, religious rite and methods of purging and exorcising demons and devils.

I traveled traveled all around to gain wisdom from the ancient masters of the mystic arts, I searched for remnants of the esoteric knowledge of the occult.

I was not religious and i cared little for pleasing the almighty.

I lived wholly untoward and ignorant of the good book, but yet I studied these religious texts with a rapacity that would suprise even the most devout, from the Torah to the Kojoki, the Buddhist Sutras, the Toa de Ching and the Egyptian book of the dead etc.

I was a fanatic of sacred knowledge and soon I started displaying a preternatural proclivity for extrasensory psychic abilities.

it made my sensitivity for the supernatural outsiders acute

Hence I applied my abilities to the haunting of these supernatural outsiders, and not long after this tremendous leap I garnered a reputation for my newly found occupation alongside an infamy among the supernatural realm of demoniacal entities.

Not long after my arrival there was a deep desire in me to see and observe the well being of my dearest friend Magnus Credence, I had left him long ago in a particularly rather awkward setting

If you could picture a person and his or her soul as a portrait of invigorating beauty, each protruding from from it a plain comely light that mimics the the bearer, each with a differing essence that could sometimes be alluring and captivating or foul, and slightly vile

but my friend Magnus had a soul that if portrayed as a painting across any wall would appear grotesquely unhinged, a face that one would describe as increasingly minatory if visible to the human eye.

A soul that would inhume any light until it becomes eventualy darkness.

And for this I fear deeply that I am wholesomely responsible.

Magnus greeted me warmly on my arrival and offered to me his decanter.

we talked about my travels and his impending prospect to travel more.

Even now all I could see in his eyes was the evil I had trapped in it, and it filled great discontent.

Where do you go from here dear friend, understand that you must at least try to fortify your spirit"

"Where else do we ever get to be this young again

A soul is just this little a price to pay." he replied casually without consequence, his blue eyes darting across the room, unperturbed by emotion

"But aren't such things abominable,

Where is your virtues dear friend" said I

"Perhaps, I seek not to know the philosophical implications, but above all bask, whilst I can" he said

Magnus Thorfinn is an individual given to the wiles of debauchery, he cared little for any, he was outright vain, his epitomic beauty was often celebrated by women who adored his company, lavishly

"Perhaps, but are we to lose ourselves, in such triviality, youth in itself is not eternal we must all die Magnus"

"You claim I gave you this gift to protect you," I continued

But why do I feel in my heart that I've cursed to this darkness.

You won't understand me now but I pray dear friend that you may forgive me someday

"Do not weary yourself, I hold nothing against you" Magnus replied

"You will Magnus," Said I "you will one day"

My friend was consumed by his appearance in the mirror, he reminded me so much of dear narcissius, who was ruined by his own reflection.

Right then I turned to leave while he fixated further on the mirror.

I had saved Magnus from an untimely death by trapping in him an old immortal god whom I collected in a Lazarus jar whilst in Egypt.

I was consulted to salvage a terror of an irrevocable destruction.

that befell the town of El Qoseir who had ignored the warnings of a wrathful god.

an old king who was deified by the sun god, he was the great king Ozymandias, but now his essence kept alive my old friend.

It has often been a deep regret of mine that I had scarred the soul of Magnus and I know one day old nemesis will catch up to me.

P.S

These Notes Are Written Exclusively For Your Eyes My Dear Uncomprehending Lucia Harden

Yours Infinitely

Brander Crow.