♡ sentence meme : the magnus archives , episodes 5 through to 8.
now , you encounter weird things in this job all the time.
as far as the rest of the world thinks about it , once its been thrown away , it’s gone , far beyond all human understanding.
still , i’m getting off topic.
the bag of doll’s head’s didn’t bother me.
i don’t think anyone believed us , or if they did they’d immediately try to top it with their own story of bizarre finds.
the third bag was the one that really changed things.
it almost felt like a ritual.
i suppose some things are disconcerting however grim your interests.
and for a while , that was it.
i don’t know what i expected.
it drew me in almost as much as it disgusted me.
mostly , i’ve just tried to forget about it.
i don’t know what happened.
let me start from the beginning.
i did enjoy myself in the end.
she just didn’t know what to do.
the important thing is what happened afterwards.
you’ll have to excuse me.
what i saw is difficult to put on paper , but it’s the only way to explain why i had to do it.
setting my flat alight and standing naked in the winter streets until the fire brigade arrived was far better than spending another second in that place.
i could barely make out anything even remotely human in the pile of pitted and warped flesh that now remained.
the flat burned for a very long time.
this story is concerning.
that’s not what really concerns me either , though obviously it’s a tragic loss of life , etcetera , etcetera.
a lot of people call me lucky , you know.
not many came through the entirety of the war in one piece.
to be perfectly honest i expected him to be dead within a week.
and in that moment i knew what was about to happen.
i met the war.
i remember exactly what he said.
and for a long while that was that.
those are musings for poets , among whom i do not number.
it was very large and very dead and not to put a too fine a point on it , the thing creeped me right the hell out.
i should probably explain my fear a bit , as it wasn’t because of ghosts , or phantom smells , or anything like that.
all the bones are in his hands.
they just watched.
no screaming , not movement , nothing but the roaring of the flames.
almost as soon as i realised this , i began to sweat.
i tried to scream but i couldn’t find my breath , i couldn’t move.
i was burning up.
at that moment i made my decision.
aside from excessive indulgence in psychoactive drugs , it seems to me there is simply no better way to make contact with the spirit world.