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June 17, 1944

"The end times. I was calling it the end times six years ago when it became clear that we couldn't purge those damned things from our rivers. Nobody knows where they came from, or why they're here. We just know that they absolutely despise us! I've heard every two-bit theory about the origin of our visitors. I doubt a single one of them comes even remotely close to the truth! It was bad enough with whales hurling themselves ashore to get to us. It was worse when serpentine monstrosities squirmed out of their eye sockets and slithered into our own, emptying us out, turning us in- into... husks."

"No creature was safe, not even ants! It was damned hard trying to sleep at night without wondering if the mosquito on your arm was full of tiny, hair-sized horrors waiting to get beneath your skin! God, I still can't get it out of my head. I remember the visages of my wife, my father and my neighbors. Worms were dripping from their empty eye sockets, noses and mouths. In my head I could hear them screaming, begging me to save them. I fell to my knees and waited for death, only for some heavily armored troopers to pull me out of there!"

"There's not many of us left. Those of us that haven't been taken by the worms were flown to an island far to the north, near the arctic. The place is surreal. Setting foot here for the first time felt almost dreamlike. A single tree on the island towered higher than anything I've ever seen! There was a massive structure nearby. They took us inside, told us it was safe, that the worms couldn't reach here for some inexplicable reason. We went down a winding stairwell into a colossal network of tunnels far beneath the ocean floor. We could hear the waves crashing above us, the sound of an ocean that abominated our very existence! I don't know who or what could have built it, but I know that it wasn't made by human hands.

"This place was old, far older than anything we've ever built! They settled us into the upper layers of the complex, they were the safest. There were cities of tents erected for us. I remember just sitting and studying the designs etched onto a gigantic pillar in the center of one of the chambers. One of them looked alien yet familiar. It was colored like the etchings of worms all over the walls, it must have been connected. If the horror scourging us had a face, I'm convinced this was it. The other etchings I wasn't certain about. I do not know anything of the red one nor its ties to our plight."

"Finally, there was the finding in one of the lowest levels of the complex. I never laid eyes upon it myself but word of mouth moves quickly around here. An excavation team stumbled upon a sort of vial. It could not be opened, nor could it be broken. The exact composition of the vial was a mystery, as was its contents. Perhaps this place was built to protect the vial, to store it away in the event that it was needed. I would like to believe that whatever is inside could somehow be the key to ending this nightmare, but then again I was always the optimist. There could be mere tap water in there for all we know, a cruel joke by some inconceivable godlike entity, ha!

"By the time anyone reads this, I will be long gone. I have decided to let the ocean take me to the abyss. It would be preferable to hearing the forever screaming voices of my loved ones when I close my eyes. I just hope and pray that someone finds a way to open that vial, and sends those foul things back where they came from!"

  -A letter found drifting in the arctic ocean.

Description

June 17, 1944

"The end times. I was calling it the end times six years ago when it became clear that we couldn't purge those damned things from our rivers. Nobody knows where they came from, or why they're here. We just know that they absolutely despise us! I've heard every two-bit theory about the origin of our visitors. I doubt a single one of them comes even remotely close to the truth! It was bad enough with whales hurling themselves ashore to get to us. It was worse when serpentine monstrosities squirmed out of their eye sockets and slithered into our own, emptying us out, turning us in- into... husks."

"No creature was safe, not even ants! It was damned hard trying to sleep at night without wondering if the mosquito on your arm was full of tiny, hair-sized horrors waiting to get beneath your skin! God, I still can't get it out of my head. I remember the visages of my wife, my father and my neighbors. Worms were dripping from their empty eye sockets, noses and mouths. In my head I could hear them screaming, begging me to save them. I fell to my knees and waited for death, only for some heavily armored troopers to pull me out of there!"

"There's not many of us left. Those of us that haven't been taken by the worms were flown to an island far to the north, near the arctic. The place is surreal. Setting foot here for the first time felt almost dreamlike. A single tree on the island towered higher than anything I've ever seen! There was a massive structure nearby. They took us inside, told us it was safe, that the worms couldn't reach here for some inexplicable reason. We went down a winding stairwell into a colossal network of tunnels far beneath the ocean floor. We could hear the waves crashing above us, the sound of an ocean that abominated our very existence! I don't know who or what could have built it, but I know that it wasn't made by human hands.

"This place was old, far older than anything we've ever built! They settled us into the upper layers of the complex, they were the safest. There were cities of tents erected for us. I remember just sitting and studying the designs etched onto a gigantic pillar in the center of one of the chambers. One of them looked alien yet familiar. It was colored like the etchings of worms all over the walls, it must have been connected. If the horror scourging us had a face, I'm convinced this was it. The other etchings I wasn't certain about. I do not know anything of the red one nor its ties to our plight."

"Finally, there was the finding in one of the lowest levels of the complex. I never laid eyes upon it myself but word of mouth moves quickly around here. An excavation team stumbled upon a sort of vial. It could not be opened, nor could it be broken. The exact composition of the vial was a mystery, as was its contents. Perhaps this place was built to protect the vial, to store it away in the event that it was needed. I would like to believe that whatever is inside could somehow be the key to ending this nightmare, but then again I was always the optimist. There could be mere tap water in there for all we know, a cruel joke by some inconceivable godlike entity, ha!

"By the time anyone reads this, I will be long gone. I have decided to let the ocean take me to the abyss. It would be preferable to hearing the forever screaming voices of my loved ones when I close my eyes. I just hope and pray that someone finds a way to open that vial, and sends those foul things back where they came from!"

  -A letter found drifting in the arctic ocean.