On Tuesday March 1st, 1921, mr. Ropes called upon us again. He wanted us to help an old friend of his, Alfred Sterns, Dean of Philips Academy in Andover. Evidently, some students had driven the caretaker at the local cemetery mad with their antics. At least, that was what the papers claimed, mr. Ropes suspected something else might be at play.
Aside from the weird behaviour of the ever joyous mr. Ropes, I met two other agents I had not encountered before, a grumpy German named Karl von Dexler and a Spaniard, whose full name eludes me, Ramon something. Both of them physically imposing to a certain extent, but like the others – all to eager to embrace the irrational beliefs that so-called nightmareish entities supposedly surround us. Doctor St. Martin and mr. Ogmore kept chatting them up, talking about our last encounter with – well, I’m thinking it was nothing more than paranoia and our own fears getting the better of us.
The others handle things their way, I have found mine. A sip of Absinthe mixed with Barbital every now and then keeps me calm, a pipe of Opium keeps the nightmares away, and a couple of shots of Reserpine at the ready will keep me calm enough in the face of insanity. Whatever is eating away at the minds of my colleauges, it won’t get to mine.
The trip to Andover was quite uneventful, more so was the town itself. And the tales we were told were nothing but ramblings from a drunkard whose mental stability finally collapsed. Lizards and dinosaurs at the cemetary? Well, I wanted to see that with my own two eyes if I was going to believe it.
Off to the cemetery we went, the others seemed anxious, even brought guns. Afraid of the dark already, I fear they will not last long – some of them are already on the brink of madness, while a couple are trying to cope with evolving insanities. Why none of them are approaching me for therapy is a mystery.
There was a strange light in the dark, we followed it, and a couple of us had some visions when we came close. It might have been some kind of natural gas causing hallucinations, maybe? It looked like a dinosaur of some kind, and then, something resembling a gigantic pineapple with tentacles, it was as if I was looking into another dimension. I told the others I didn’t see anything, they were so shaken afterwards I didn’t want to add to their fears. With Professor Locke away researching, we need one stable mind around, namely me.
We spent the night at Andover Inn. Mr. Ogmore wanted to sleep in his car, Dorothy, so I got a room to myself, which allowed me some quiet contemplation and a pipe of Opium. I slept like a baby that night, at least that’s what I told the others.
This morning, police sirens headed towards the cemetery made us give chase. Shots and screams were heard, then silence. I waited around near Dorothy before I borrowed a shotgun from an abandoned police car and headed after the others, who had gone off running into the cemetery. I couldn’t find them at first, then I saw them inside a shimmering ball of some kind. They were standing in a foreign landscape. While I tried to figure out how to get them back, they returned, with a group of gigantic pineapples. My shotgun went off for some reason, before I had a chance to cock it correctly. It exploded, splinters hit my face. I fell, lost my conciousness.
When I came to, my face felt like it was on fire. I had a horrible headache and a lot of blood all over me. Doctor St. Martin said she suspected I had a concussion. Ramon, however, kept rambling on about faith, God and a battle. He was preparing himself, I think.
Then, tarlike objects tried to enter through the shimmering ball. Ramon kept yelling that we had to stop them, that we had to save the world from evil, from shadow dragons. With the help of von Dexler, he overpowered mr. Ogmore, and sent Dorothy speeding into the shimmering ball. The ball, and Dorothy, vanished, and everyone rejoiced. With the exception of poor Tobias Ogmore. He was heartbroken, which is probably why he struck Ramon down with a shovel afterwards.
Someone, I don’t recall who, said we had to give chase after the pineapples. The tracks seemed to indicate that they were headed towards Philips Academy, so me and mr. Ogmore headed after them. We lost the trail somehow and ended up in our room at the Inn, shared what was left of the bottle of Absinthe and Barbital. Things became a blur after that, all I know is that I woke up, along with mr. Ogmore, in the custody of Andover Police. Why, or what they want, remains to be seen….