Chapter 3
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This work, which should’ve been a play that was performed on the stage, did not read like a script.
The words were absolutely indescribable. It read more like a prayer to a great, divine being.
[May your holy radiance guide me…]
The longing, the obsession, transcended the respect a mere mortal believer had for an object of worship. It was a series of lines in which the fervent passion bordered on absolute madness. Did Randolph really write this…?
At the same time, I had an ominous feeling.
[And so, my body is truly one with the power of darkness…]
I couldn’t stop myself from reading. I sensed a great, unknown power as well as unimaginable terror. The room suddenly became dark.
…
A dream unfolded before me. All I could see was a golden cloak. Underneath the fluttering yellow hem, I felt a strong presence. That was…
As soon as I recognized it, I was out of breath and my heart began to race. A complicated feeling washed over me; it was the fear of rulers with an overwhelming aura.
It was the feeling of wanting to kneel before him and give my everything to him. It was the impulse of wanting to disappear. Every emotion mixed together and was magnified in intensity.
In the midst of the glorious whirlpool of chaos, my body took a step toward it. My brain told me I should stop; however, I continued to approach him without any hesitation, as if under a spell.
Finally, he lifted his fluttering, golden cloak. Underneath it was something paler than even death it—
***
The moment I opened my eyes, a familiar ceiling came into view. Wasn’t this my bedroom? Was I laying down on my bed?
When I tried to get up, my head ached.
“Emily, are you all right?”
I looked around and saw Helena. “What happened?”
“This morning you were unconscious.”
“…I was?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a manuscript on my night table. The King in Yellow.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t read it.”
“Helena…”
Sighing, she explained what happened. Helena heard a scream come from my study, so she rushed back and found…
“You were in a daze and muttering something.”
It wasn’t normal for someone to talk nonsense while staring off into the distance. Then I had stepped back, terrified, and screamed.
“I touched your forehead just in case. You felt feverish.”
Helena was about to leave the room to call for a doctor, but then she heard a thud and turned around. I had fainted.
“Emily, do you know how worried I was?” Helena took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat off my forehead. She touched my hand. “I believe this wasn’t the first time I’ve seen you like that… I remember when you were very unstable.”
“What do you mean? When was this?”
“Both of you fought a lot. Three months before Randolph—”
“Impossible.”
Randolph and I never got into a fight. He and I had shared the same values. We even joked that we were twins with the same taste. Of course, we were human, so occasionally there was a difference of opinion. Our first actual argument…
It was before Randolph suddenly disappeared and left a note. That was the only argument we had.
Helena interpreted my reaction differently. “You tend to avoid the topic whenever it comes out.”
“What are you talking about? I—”
“It’s all right. Let’s move on.” Helena shook her head. “I always feel you try not to depend on others.”
“I…”
“Am I wrong?” She sighed. “Why does a person have friends? It’s so that you can tell them what’s in your heart when times are tough.”
“That’s…”
“You’re trying to figure out everything by yourself.” Helena let go of my hand. “Get some rest, Emily.”
As she left the room, I said in a choked voice, “…Thank you.”
“You say that for all sorts of things.” Helena chuckled and closed the door.
In the quiet room, the evening glow of the sunset poured through the window. I was lost in thought. How could I have been unconscious for half a day?
The King in Yellow. After reading it, I definitely had a hallucination. When I closed my eyes, that golden hem seemed to flutter in front of me. And underneath was…
Something shocking and horrible. It smelled of death and corruption…
“Ugh.” Just remembering it made me sick. I should stop thinking about it, so I tried to forget what I had experienced.
Months passed, and I could dismiss it as a simple incident. However, an anonymous letter was sent to me.
[We saw a monster eating a dead body in the ossuary of the abandoned church.]
The letter wasn’t sent to the editorial office but addressed directly to me, Emily Carter.
One creature came to mind. It originated in Arabian folklore and lived near cemeteries since it ate corpses. A ghoul.
Ghouls were also creatures that appeared in popular modern literature. I was very interested in the ghost stories found in fantasy novels. Although reports of this nature were often sent to the editorial office, the location and circumstances described by the witness were never written like this.
“It seems authentic, but…”
At the time, I was suffering from writer’s block. It was a little suspicious the letter was for me. I left for York, hoping to get inspiration from the interview.
That was three years ago.
This incident served as the starting point for the tragedies to come.
***
When I arrived at the station three or four hours later, a gloomy, gray landscape stretched out before me. The air was humid. The weather had been unusually nice since this morning, but now there was heavy rainfall.
“Please go to St. Paul’s.”
The coachman’s face turned pale when I told him my destination. “Why do you want to go to that cursed church?”
At one point in time, there were many church-goers, but the church was closed decades ago. It was now a ruin; many coachmen didn’t go there in fear of dying.
After meeting with three coachmen, I managed to go to St. Paul’s Church after giving the fourth one a lot of money.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
The sound of rain falling onto the carriage was an ominous song. St. Paul’s Church was located on the hillside. It wasn’t a place a person could get to easily, and on rainy days, the horses often slipped. The carriage approached the entrance to the church. To the side, there was a desolate garden. I was going to be here for a while.
Suddenly, the carriage door opened.
“Miss, you have to walk from here.”
“What do you mean? You want me to walk in the rain with my luggage?”
The coachman had an angry look, but he talked as if he prepared what he was going to say earlier. “For we coachmen, it’s forbidden to go any farther. The only reason we’re even here is for your own sake.”
He felt sorry for an elegant woman having to make most of the trip through the rain, and not because I had given him more money. The coachman began to speak of the rumors surrounding the church. There was a ghost of a young man who was unjustly murdered, former church-goers who were mysteriously killed…
“Recently, a terrible monster appeared. It’s been eating human bodies or something…”
I gave him half a tip. The coachman unloaded my luggage and set off. The sound of horseshoes kicking against the ground gradually faded away.
“…Unfortunate.” I gave up and started walking.
Under the stormy gray sky, the church seemed to be cursed. My shoes were covered in mud. When I finally reached the door, I was wet from head to toe. The hem of my dress was stained with mud. I looked like a complete mess.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the church door. I knew no one lived here, but I wanted to make sure. Seeing how there was no answer, I grabbed the doorknob.
Creak.
The unlocked door opened. A rush of stale air assaulted my senses. There was a faint smell of something rotting, but also…
What is this scent?
I was anxious. I took out an oil lamp and camera, left the rest of my luggage outside, and went inside.
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This work, which should’ve been a play that was performed on the stage, did not read like a script.
The words were absolutely indescribable. It read more like a prayer to a great, divine being.
[May your holy radiance guide me…]
The longing, the obsession, transcended the respect a mere mortal believer had for an object of worship. It was a series of lines in which the fervent passion bordered on absolute madness. Did Randolph really write this…?
At the same time, I had an ominous feeling.
[And so, my body is truly one with the power of darkness…]
I couldn’t stop myself from reading. I sensed a great, unknown power as well as unimaginable terror. The room suddenly became dark.
…
A dream unfolded before me. All I could see was a golden cloak. Underneath the fluttering yellow hem, I felt a strong presence. That was…
As soon as I recognized it, I was out of breath and my heart began to race. A complicated feeling washed over me; it was the fear of rulers with an overwhelming aura.
It was the feeling of wanting to kneel before him and give my everything to him. It was the impulse of wanting to disappear. Every emotion mixed together and was magnified in intensity.
In the midst of the glorious whirlpool of chaos, my body took a step toward it. My brain told me I should stop; however, I continued to approach him without any hesitation, as if under a spell.
Finally, he lifted his fluttering, golden cloak. Underneath it was something paler than even death it—
***
The moment I opened my eyes, a familiar ceiling came into view. Wasn’t this my bedroom? Was I laying down on my bed?
When I tried to get up, my head ached.
“Emily, are you all right?”
I looked around and saw Helena. “What happened?”
“This morning you were unconscious.”
“…I was?” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a manuscript on my night table. The King in Yellow.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t read it.”
“Helena…”
Sighing, she explained what happened. Helena heard a scream come from my study, so she rushed back and found…
“You were in a daze and muttering something.”
It wasn’t normal for someone to talk nonsense while staring off into the distance. Then I had stepped back, terrified, and screamed.
“I touched your forehead just in case. You felt feverish.”
Helena was about to leave the room to call for a doctor, but then she heard a thud and turned around. I had fainted.
“Emily, do you know how worried I was?” Helena took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat off my forehead. She touched my hand. “I believe this wasn’t the first time I’ve seen you like that… I remember when you were very unstable.”
“What do you mean? When was this?”
“Both of you fought a lot. Three months before Randolph—”
“Impossible.”
Randolph and I never got into a fight. He and I had shared the same values. We even joked that we were twins with the same taste. Of course, we were human, so occasionally there was a difference of opinion. Our first actual argument…
It was before Randolph suddenly disappeared and left a note. That was the only argument we had.
Helena interpreted my reaction differently. “You tend to avoid the topic whenever it comes out.”
“What are you talking about? I—”
“It’s all right. Let’s move on.” Helena shook her head. “I always feel you try not to depend on others.”
“I…”
“Am I wrong?” She sighed. “Why does a person have friends? It’s so that you can tell them what’s in your heart when times are tough.”
“That’s…”
“You’re trying to figure out everything by yourself.” Helena let go of my hand. “Get some rest, Emily.”
As she left the room, I said in a choked voice, “…Thank you.”
“You say that for all sorts of things.” Helena chuckled and closed the door.
In the quiet room, the evening glow of the sunset poured through the window. I was lost in thought. How could I have been unconscious for half a day?
The King in Yellow. After reading it, I definitely had a hallucination. When I closed my eyes, that golden hem seemed to flutter in front of me. And underneath was…
Something shocking and horrible. It smelled of death and corruption…
“Ugh.” Just remembering it made me sick. I should stop thinking about it, so I tried to forget what I had experienced.
Months passed, and I could dismiss it as a simple incident. However, an anonymous letter was sent to me.
[We saw a monster eating a dead body in the ossuary of the abandoned church.]
The letter wasn’t sent to the editorial office but addressed directly to me, Emily Carter.
One creature came to mind. It originated in Arabian folklore and lived near cemeteries since it ate corpses. A ghoul.
Ghouls were also creatures that appeared in popular modern literature. I was very interested in the ghost stories found in fantasy novels. Although reports of this nature were often sent to the editorial office, the location and circumstances described by the witness were never written like this.
“It seems authentic, but…”
At the time, I was suffering from writer’s block. It was a little suspicious the letter was for me. I left for York, hoping to get inspiration from the interview.
That was three years ago.
This incident served as the starting point for the tragedies to come.
***
When I arrived at the station three or four hours later, a gloomy, gray landscape stretched out before me. The air was humid. The weather had been unusually nice since this morning, but now there was heavy rainfall.
“Please go to St. Paul’s.”
The coachman’s face turned pale when I told him my destination. “Why do you want to go to that cursed church?”
At one point in time, there were many church-goers, but the church was closed decades ago. It was now a ruin; many coachmen didn’t go there in fear of dying.
After meeting with three coachmen, I managed to go to St. Paul’s Church after giving the fourth one a lot of money.
Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.
The sound of rain falling onto the carriage was an ominous song. St. Paul’s Church was located on the hillside. It wasn’t a place a person could get to easily, and on rainy days, the horses often slipped. The carriage approached the entrance to the church. To the side, there was a desolate garden. I was going to be here for a while.
Suddenly, the carriage door opened.
“Miss, you have to walk from here.”
“What do you mean? You want me to walk in the rain with my luggage?”
The coachman had an angry look, but he talked as if he prepared what he was going to say earlier. “For we coachmen, it’s forbidden to go any farther. The only reason we’re even here is for your own sake.”
He felt sorry for an elegant woman having to make most of the trip through the rain, and not because I had given him more money. The coachman began to speak of the rumors surrounding the church. There was a ghost of a young man who was unjustly murdered, former church-goers who were mysteriously killed…
“Recently, a terrible monster appeared. It’s been eating human bodies or something…”
I gave him half a tip. The coachman unloaded my luggage and set off. The sound of horseshoes kicking against the ground gradually faded away.
“…Unfortunate.” I gave up and started walking.
Under the stormy gray sky, the church seemed to be cursed. My shoes were covered in mud. When I finally reached the door, I was wet from head to toe. The hem of my dress was stained with mud. I looked like a complete mess.
I took a deep breath and knocked on the church door. I knew no one lived here, but I wanted to make sure. Seeing how there was no answer, I grabbed the doorknob.
Creak.
The unlocked door opened. A rush of stale air assaulted my senses. There was a faint smell of something rotting, but also…
What is this scent?
I was anxious. I took out an oil lamp and camera, left the rest of my luggage outside, and went inside.
This work, which should've been a play that was performed on the stage, did not read like a script.The words were absolutely indescribable. It read more like a prayer to a great, divine being.May your holy radiance guide meThe longing, the obsession, transcended the respect a mere mortal believer had for an object of worship. It was a series of lines in which the fervent passion bordered on absolute madness. Did Randolph really write this?At the same time, I had an ominous feeling.And so, my body is truly one with the power of darknessI couldn't stop myself from reading. I sensed a great, unknown power as well as unimaginable terror. The room suddenly became dark.A dream unfolded before me. All I could see was a golden cloak. Underneath the fluttering yellow hem, I felt a strong presence. That wasAs soon as I recognized it, I was out of breath and my heart began to race. A complicated feeling washed over me; it was the fear of rulers with an overwhelming aura.It was the feeling of wanting to kneel before him and give my everything to him. It was the impulse of wanting to disappear. Every emotion mixed together and was magnified in intensity.In the midst of the glorious whirlpool of chaos, my body took a step toward it. My brain told me I should stop; however, I continued to approach him without any hesitation, as if under a spell.Finally, he lifted his fluttering, golden cloak. Underneath it was something paler than even death it***The moment I opened my eyes, a familiar ceiling came into view. Wasn't this my bedroom? Was I laying down on my bed?When I tried to get up, my head ached.Emily, are you all right?I looked around and saw Helena. What happened?This morning you were unconscious.I was? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a manuscript on my night table.The King in Yellow.Don't worry, I haven't read it.HelenaSighing, she explained what happened. Helena heard a scream come from my study, so she rushed back and foundYou were in a daze and muttering something.It wasn't normal for someone to talk nonsense while staring off into the distance. Then I had stepped back, terrified, and screamed.I touched your forehead just in case. You felt feverish.Helena was about to leave the room to call for a doctor, but then she heard a thud and turned around. I had fainted.Emily, do you know how worried I was? Helena took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the sweat off my forehead. She touched my hand. I believe this wasn't the first time I've seen you like that I remember when you were very unstable.What do you mean? When was this?Both of you fought a lot. Three months before RandolphImpossible.Randolph and I never got into a fight. He and I had shared the same values. We even joked that we were twins with the same taste. Of course, we were human, so occasionally there was a difference of opinion. Our first actual argumentIt was before Randolph suddenly disappeared and left a note. That was the only argument we had.Helena interpreted my reaction differently. You tend to avoid the topic whenever it comes out.What are you talking about? IIt's all right. Let's move on. Helena shook her head. I always feel you try not to depend on others.IAm I wrong? She sighed. Why does a person have friends? It's so that you can tell them what's in your heart when times are tough.That'sYou're trying to figure out everything by yourself. Helena let go of my hand. Get some rest, Emily.As she left the room, I said in a choked voice, Thank you.You say that for all sorts of things. Helena chuckled and closed the door.In the quiet room, the evening glow of the sunset poured through the window. I was lost in thought. How could I have been unconscious for half a day?The King in Yellow.After reading it, I definitely had a hallucination. When I closed my eyes, that golden hem seemed to flutter in front of me. And underneath wasSomething shocking and horrible. It smelled of death and corruptionUgh. Just remembering it made me sick. I should stop thinking about it, so I tried to forget what I had experienced.Months passed, and I could dismiss it as a simple incident. However, an anonymous letter was sent to me.We saw a monster eating a dead body in the ossuary of the abandoned church.The letter wasn't sent to the editorial office but addressed directly to me, Emily Carter.One creature came to mind. It originated in Arabian folklore and lived near cemeteries since it ate corpses. A ghoul.Ghouls were also creatures that appeared in popular modern literature. I was very interested in the ghost stories found in fantasy novels. Although reports of this nature were often sent to the editorial office, the location and circumstances described by the witness were never written like this.It seems authentic, butAt the time, I was suffering from writer's block. It was a little suspicious the letter was for me. I left for York, hoping to get inspiration from the interview.That was three years ago.This incident served as the starting point for the tragedies to come.***When I arrived at the station three or four hours later, a gloomy, gray landscape stretched out before me. The air was humid. The weather had been unusually nice since this morning, but now there was heavy rainfall.Please go to St. Paul's.The coachman's face turned pale when I told him my destination. Why do you want to go to that cursed church?At one point in time, there were many church-goers, but the church was closed decades ago. It was now a ruin; many coachmen didn't go there in fear of dying.After meeting with three coachmen, I managed to go to St. Paul's Church after giving the fourth one a lot of money.Pitter-patter, pitter-patter.The sound of rain falling onto the carriage was an ominous song. St. Paul's Church was located on the hillside. It wasn't a place a person could get to easily, and on rainy days, the horses often slipped. The carriage approached the entrance to the church. To the side, there was a desolate garden. I was going to be here for a while.Suddenly, the carriage door opened.Miss, you have to walk from here.What do you mean? You want me to walk in the rain with my luggage?The coachman had an angry look, but he talked as if he prepared what he was going to say earlier. For we coachmen, it's forbidden to go any farther. The only reason we're even here is for your own sake.He felt sorry for an elegant woman having to make most of the trip through the rain, and not because I had given him more money. The coachman began to speak of the rumors surrounding the church. There was a ghost of a young man who was unjustly murdered, former church-goers who were mysteriously killedRecently, a terrible monster appeared. It's been eating human bodies or somethingI gave him half a tip. The coachman unloaded my luggage and set off. The sound of horseshoes kicking against the ground gradually faded away.Unfortunate. I gave up and started walking.Under the stormy gray sky, the church seemed to be cursed. My shoes were covered in mud. When I finally reached the door, I was wet from head to toe. The hem of my dress was stained with mud. I looked like a complete mess.I took a deep breath and knocked on the church door. I knew no one lived here, but I wanted to make sure. Seeing how there was no answer, I grabbed the doorknob.Creak.The unlocked door opened. A rush of stale air assaulted my senses. There was a faint smell of something rotting, but alsoWhat is this scent?I was anxious. I took out an oil lamp and camera, left the rest of my luggage outside, and went inside.
