These scattered, fragmented notes are all that remain from Sid Connolly, a policeman driven to madness while investigating the events at Weyland Manor in Osmotherley, North Yorkshire. Alongside Dorothy Hornby, a close friend of Dr. Kenneth Connolly, Sid answered an urgent telegram summoning them to the home of his father. What they uncovered was a labyrinthine descent into the unnatural.
Weyland Manor: Constructed in 1890, it stood in eerie contrast to its pristine cleanliness, as though time had scrubbed away all traces of life. The garden lay untended, and ashes were discovered in a ditch at the base of the house - residue from unholy experiments, perhaps.
Inside were the Weylands:
Time Distortion: Sid's father's room inexplicably led to May 14, 1924 - a year in the past. The air there was thick with a sense of wrongness, as though the house itself bent reality to its will.
Ominous Clues: The house was haunted by strange phenomena:
The manor's library, a vast chamber of knowledge, housed texts in Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, alongside forbidden books of the occult:
Sid found Augustus's journal, filled with cryptic entries about translating this book and purchasing a lamp tied to its rituals. A scroll case held a copy of the Torah, alongside a King James Bible and a Qur'an - a collection of sacred texts at odds with the house's sinister air.
Sid uncovered symbols and equations that hinted at ancient rituals. The numbers in perfect squares (4-9-2, 3-5-7, 8-1-6) appeared repeatedly, their purpose maddeningly unclear. A chalk-drawn circle within a triangle, inscribed with unholy markings, hinted at a summoning ritual - though Sid's notes questioned whether a wand was required.
In the cupola, with a chair facing the eastern window, Sid found himself confronted with the dawning horror of Augustus Weyland's Abramelin Operation. The rituals described were not mere theory - they were practice. Veronica's impalement, the pristine cleanliness of the manor, and the ash-filled ditch all pointed to a single, horrifying conclusion: the Weylands sought to bridge the realms of man and spirit, using methods both arcane and blasphemous.
Sid's fragmented scribblings end abruptly, with a cryptic phrase scrawled repeatedly in shaking handwriting:
"In whatever place it may be wherein commemoration my name will be made, I will come unto you and I will bless you."
Whether Sid escaped Wellington Manor or fell victim to its horrors remains unknown. His notes, now disjointed and riddled with madness, are all that survive of a tale too horrific for the rational mind.
Handwriting?