THE HOUSE, THE SUBJECT OF MY STUDIES, WENT OUT IN A BLAZE TODAY. I THINK I COULD HEAR IT SCREAMING. AFTER DISCOVERING THE GUESTBOOK AND ITS RECORDED APPENDICES IN A HIDDEN CHAMBER, I VOWED TO MAKE THE STORY PUBLIC, BUT THIS PLACE, THIS HAVEN OF EVIL AND SADNESS, COULD NO LONGER STAND. THE MANOR MOCKED ME, WALLS BREATHING AS IF THIS PLACE OF WOOD AND BRICK WERE LAUGHING, AS I ENTERED WITH A JUG OF GASOLINE.
I RECALL THE MANY SEANCES I CONDUCTED HERE. MY ASSOCIATE, PROFESSOR RADA S. LAZARESCU, RECORDED MY SESSIONS AS A MEDIUM. WE RECALLED HAUNTINGS IN THE MANOR THROUGHOUT HISTORY, DATING BACK TO ITS INITIAL POSSESSION BY THE SPIRIT. IT WAS A VIOLENT PERIOD OF TIME. PROFESSOR LAZARESCU IS NO LONGER WITH US. I FOUND HIM IN THE STATUE GARDEN, SWAYING IN ITS MIDST. IT WAS THEN THAT I KNEW THE HOUSE MUST DIE.
FILLING EVERY ROOM, I HALLUCINATED PREVIOUS HAUNTINGS, OTHERS WHOSE SOULS WERE PERMANENTLY TRAPPED HERE. I DARED NOT ENTER ONE, FOR ITS MANY JUDGING GAZES WOULD DRAW ME MAD IF I EVEN ATTEMPTED EYE CONTACT WITH ONE OF ITS PAINTED RESIDENTS. I SET THE SPARK. I SET THE HOUSE ABLAZE. IT DID NOT EXPECT SUCH A WORTHY FOE, BUT I WAS PREPARED. MY YEARS OF RESEARCH LED ME TO THIS MOMENT, AND IT FELL UPON ME TO END THIS LIVING DAMNATION. I TOOK IT UPON MYSELF TO CAREFULLY RECREATE THE GUESTBOOK AND RECORDINGS I FOUND WITHIN THE HOUSE SO THAT ITS STORY MAY LIVE ON, AS THE SPIRIT WHICH INHABITED IT, THE ARCHITECT, IS HUNGRY.
MY STORY IS WOEFULLY SHORT. HE WILL FIND ME. LET THIS COLLECTION BE A WARNING.
-STEPHEN R.C. SICREEVE, 16 OCTOBER 2021