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Check this out, its a story I am writing for a short story contest, its written in HP Lovecraft style. I only have the intro so far.
It is raining heavily outside as I write this. I lie here on my bed where the icy hand of death is a short distance away. I do not know how much longer I have left, but I do not care. I have led a fulfilling life and have seen things you wouldn’t even dream off. I trekked up Kilamanjaro, and ate lunch on top of the Great Wall. I have swam the Amazon and seen the towering pyramids rise out from the Saharan sand. I have met many women, and have fallen in love with the perfect one. She bore me two strong sons and a beautiful daughter whose smile can bring fourth the warmth of summer on even the coldest of winters. I have lived thru wars; famine, disease, hunger and I have seen things that can freeze the strongest of men dead in their tracks. Eldritch horrors, black magic, and subterranean sepulchers that house dark, hellish spawn that crawl in the corners of this world from which not a single shed of light has ever dared graced. I know that I am not mad, for I have had witnesses with me throughout my travels, and I know that I did not dream this because I dare not dream such nightmarish images. No my friend, the things that I have witnessed defy all logic, all science and all mathematics. Even after all these years the things that I have witnessed during my youth, claw ceaselessly at the barrier of reason that mankind’s eons of advancements in medicine and physics have created- all the ideals of materials that my skeptical mind had come to trust and uphold. Now, upon my final hours I must get this off my dying chest. With these feeble hands I will scribble down the events that I have kept locked away in the hidden recesses of my mind. With these hands I will tell you about the events that took place on October 24th, 1934 in a small town that you will not find on any map, and within a house that I pray no living thing will ever again set foot in.
It is raining heavily outside as I write this. I lie here on my bed where the icy hand of death is a short distance away. I do not know how much longer I have left, but I do not care. I have led a fulfilling life and have seen things you wouldn’t even dream off. I trekked up Kilamanjaro, and ate lunch on top of the Great Wall. I have swam the Amazon and seen the towering pyramids rise out from the Saharan sand. I have met many women, and have fallen in love with the perfect one. She bore me two strong sons and a beautiful daughter whose smile can bring fourth the warmth of summer on even the coldest of winters. I have lived thru wars; famine, disease, hunger and I have seen things that can freeze the strongest of men dead in their tracks. Eldritch horrors, black magic, and subterranean sepulchers that house dark, hellish spawn that crawl in the corners of this world from which not a single shed of light has ever dared graced. I know that I am not mad, for I have had witnesses with me throughout my travels, and I know that I did not dream this because I dare not dream such nightmarish images. No my friend, the things that I have witnessed defy all logic, all science and all mathematics. Even after all these years the things that I have witnessed during my youth, claw ceaselessly at the barrier of reason that mankind’s eons of advancements in medicine and physics have created- all the ideals of materials that my skeptical mind had come to trust and uphold. Now, upon my final hours I must get this off my dying chest. With these feeble hands I will scribble down the events that I have kept locked away in the hidden recesses of my mind. With these hands I will tell you about the events that took place on October 24th, 1934 in a small town that you will not find on any map, and within a house that I pray no living thing will ever again set foot in.

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