BH, Last one, gogogo~~~
The transformation is nearly complete.
Most of the inmates, Julia Brown included, are almost completely covered with scales. Their fingers and toes have shortened, but their hands and feet have grown long. Unnaturally thickened lips and bulbous, fishlike eyes now grace their faces. Their skin is soft, heavily veined, and grey. Gill-like creases have developed in the sides of their necks.
They spend most of their time in the showers; some of them never leave the chamber at all. The faculty have begun to turn as well, and those who were not becoming amphibious are long dead, killed by those who are.
We feast upon their flesh.
The asylum, no longer a prison, has become something of a fortress, a bastion, a haven for the scaled race.
More and more of us are drawn here, in flocks, every day.
At night, Julia Brown sometimes dreams of her past life, of what it was like to be a human. She dreams of Marshall Green, and remembers love. She dreams of her childhood, and remembers hope. She dreams of sleepless nights with violin, and remembers joy. That life is hers no more.
Now, all that seems to matter to her is the hunger for human flesh, the desire for water, and the longing to return to the sea. She knows that this is only the beginning. She remembers, from her days as a human, the tales she has read. She knows that great Cthulhu stirs at the bottom of the sea, and his dreams call out to the delicate minds of humanity. She understands that this entire tale--the sleepless nights at the violin, the running of the water, her eventual transformation--are but foreshadowings of Cthulhu's awakening. A deeply buried part of her tells her that this should be disturbing. A more primal, vital part suggests that everything is as it should be.
My gaze turns towards the sea. The underwater city of Y'ha-nthlei calls out to me. I long to return...
Julia Brown is still with us, in her dreams, but that is all. Always a stubborn girl, always a fighter, she dreams of a cautionary tale, a log for the rest by humanity that details the path of her transformation. She hopes that someone, somewhere, will find it, and use it to save someone else from her fate. Or, at the very least, it will help them to understand. A noble dream, but futile in the end. There is no salvation along the path to Y'ha-nthlei, no need to understand the journey.
It is only for the memory of Julia Brown that I record these thoughts. Her dreams are my dreams, her past is mine. I have no hope for the future, for hope is a human emotion, and I am no longer human. Julia Brown hopes to hold on to the memories of her human past, and so I remember her journey while I still can. The future is relentless, inevitable, and holds for us only a return to the sea. I was a human woman, once, and she was me, but that connection grows fleeting with each cycle of the tides. I write of Julia Brown with the increasing sensation that I write of an alien presence in my mind. It is one that will never let go, a presence that constantly reminds me of the nightmare of my transformation. I hope that by telling her tale I can exorcise her spirit from my mind, complete the transformation, and answer the summons of the deep. But there I go, hoping, once again, and demonstrating that my humanity is not as far gone as I had... heh...hoped. She was always a stubborn girl, a clever girl, a girl that would never give up without a fight. Life will be so much simpler when she's gone.
