The Temple of Dagon

‘The Logbook and Journals of William Walker Esq’

The Sleepwalker Press is proud to announce the completion of its latest volume. In ‘The Logbook and Journals’ we have a leather bound, handmade volume, 300 pages in length.

But what of that flagitious Biblionihilistica and the postscriptum of the Twin Codicils that addend it? How came they from the claws of demons to the hands of Man? How came they then to this modern age?
Through the agency of a certain Quelron Bathis they were passed to my grandfather, William Walker, in the year 1929, thence, subsequent to my fathers death, to my hands in this year of 2009.
In ‘The Logbook and Journals’ we have the decades spanning tale, told through the medium of fragmented diary and journal entries and illustrated by many sepia photographic images, of a Victorian gentleman scientist who had the misfortune of many a close call with those entities, called by some, The Great Olden-Ones. Grandfathers wish to improve upon the steam powered technology of his age by the inclusion of methods esoteric, set him down a most unfortunate path. Steam power coupled with sorcery. Sorcery unknowingly derived from Them-Ones. Innocent to begin with but ending in terror and horror most foul. Subsequent to a sojourn in India/ Tibet his later esoteric-infused engines take him to the fetch of Ralyey, thence to the very froth on the chin of Yog Sotot.

Intrigued? Wish to see, know more? Then a visit to http://www.mythoplasm.co.uk/ would undoubtedly prove of service.

This sounds cool

Cool indeed, dear sir, but the plot thickens. The above image is of The Somnicura Device and is the before image. I attach, below, the after image.

"Next, I recall arousing as if from a faint, for there I was, upon the floor, laid prone. The helmet - cracked across the crown and gently hissing with the release of internal gasses - gratefully having been dislodged, lying several feet from my still trembling form. But the thing that brought me to full and instant consciousness were the strands of purple-black plasm issuing, snakelike, from the hood and which were, with sickly, peristaltic motions, questing the air and vilely inching towards my swooning form. To my ears, and through a distant ringing, there came a wild throbbing chant. No words were recognisable in those tones, only the pulsing pressures of alien thought forms as though the cacophony were being enacted in an atmosphere at wild variance to that which we breath here on Earth. But all so distant, so distant that the very thought of it made me giddy with its extragalactic vertigo. And behind it all, from the same immeasurable remove, there came to me a thin, tuneless piping, backed by the doleful sounding of a lone, sorrowful bell, oh so reminiscent, and striking a curious counterpoint in my subconscious with the clock-work tread of the Somnicura Device. But so slow and fathomlessly sonorous, it too seemed to sound through a soup of thickened liquids."
~ excerpt from The Somnicura Device,
The Diaries and Journals of William Walker
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