Letters From Oakmont

***This page is incomplete, don't hesitate to contribute !***

Letters From Oakmont is a side case obtained from talking to the owner of the Devil's Reef Hotel. The objective is to find 11 different locations around Oakmont where people have experienced unsettling visions, which is the reason why Charles Reed came to the city in the first place.

The letters are

* Forlorn Woman
* Lone Child
* Mirrors, Mirrors !
* Disgusting Exaltation
* Call of the Ocean
* Static in Ears
* Voices from the Pipes
* From Behind !
* Terrible Fetus
* Innsmouther's Notes
* Lullaby Crossroad

## Forlorn Woman

> *The city, no matter how badly the Flood damaged it, has an unnatural appeal. I can't stop myself from walking even if it means being struck by further visions. I went to the eastern part of the Salvation Harbor. Near the crossing of Fitz O'Callahan Street and Old Church Road, it came.*
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> *The feeling of loneliness and fear was immense. I was a woman, locked in a room, infected and slowly rotting. My body turned into something ! It itched badly and my face... I had to hold the skin with both hands to prevent it from growing until I suffocated ! I ended up sitting on the road, crying, until some Innsmouther kicked me and ordered me away.*
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Once at the location, Reed can either sneak in or fight the wylebeasts. The letter is on the upper floor, in the first room on the left.

> *Hi Dad. The back room's window was broken when I woke from my nap, so I'm gonna go look for Mom. She can't have gotten too far yet. I'm sure she'll listen to me when I find her. Sometimes, when I take her food to her, she looks at me weird, like she remembers me. Sometimes she even reaches out through the slot and tries to grab my hand. But I do what you said, and stand behind the white line, and push the tray with the stick, and then she cries. I really hope she'll get better soon. Don't worry Dad. I'll find her and bring her home. Love you, Rachel.*
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## Lone Child

> *The visions are testing me, playing with my mind. My old forgotten fears have come to life. When I was small, I was afraid to stay alone. I thought my parents would leave and never come back. Today I went to the **eastern streets of Coverside, and the visions came on the corner of St. Elmo Lane and Kingsport Street**.*
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> *I felt I was alone, forgotten in a locked room, hungry and frightened. It was so scary to stay inside, but everything was much worse behind the door. Something scratched in the corridor, and there were terrifying screams from outside. I could not run, could not hide. I just waited for Mom to return.*
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A boat is required to reach the abandoned house. There is a brick wall upstairs, and Charles uses his Mind's Eye to reveal a room behind. There are no wylebeasts, just a letter near a kid's bed and some toys.

> *i do not know w here m0mmy and dadby went*
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> *mommy kissed me on the four head and handed me mr teddy and left so many days ago*
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> *i am allby myself and mr ted dy and i are so c0ld and wet*
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> *if you have blankies i wold be so happy*
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> *if you are a nice people and you find this no te i live ina brown house with lo ts of flowers but they are wet and sad now*
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> *my name is timmy and if you help me we can be the very best frienbds*
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> *just please no more monsters i am all red and stickey*
> -F.M.
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## Mirrors, Mirrors !

> *I'm afraid someone stalks me. It started when I visited **western Advent and had a vision at the intersection of Purity Road and Oak Street**. I saw mirrors full of reflections, and someone trapped, trying in vain to escape. His expression of fear and panic shook me deeply. After that, a very tall and skinny man started following me in the distance. What troubles me is that I see him in the reflections, but have never caught a straight view of this stalker. I'm sure the police will mock me if I come asking for protection? Seems it is time to buy a good, trustworthy gun, and start to practice...*
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.......

> *The man in the mirror.   He’s gone. Ever since this infernal flood began. I kept seeing him in the mirror. The man who stole my reflection! He wore my skin like a suit but there was nothing human beneath it. He knew I was on the other side and was looking straight at me! I covered every mirror in my house but in vain. I could still see him in the window panes, in every puddle, even in other people’s eyes.*
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> *The neighbors started to look at me strangely. I couldn’t sleep. I saw his face in nightmares and when I woke up I heard whispers coming from the looking glass. But now he’s gone. I uncovered the mirror to smash it to pieces, and he’s gone! There’s nothing in the reflection at all.*
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> *But I feel like I’m not alone.*
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> -M.G.
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## Disgusting Exaltation

> *No matter how different my visions may be, they are always so frightening. Today it was a man. He left a house **in southern Oldgrove, on Warwick Street... somewhere between Seaside and Hillside Streets.***
> *Our eyes met, and I immediately felt the burning exaltation, a wild torrent of emotions. I saw him among monstrosities, touching them, embracing, kissing. The vision was so intense, I bent in two and threw up all my breakfast. He walked past saying something like "Cursed newcomers!", and I prayed he wouldn't stop to help. Even now, when I close my eyes I see the creatures around the man...*
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[...]
Letter left at location reads:

> *It's extraordinary, incredible, fabulous! I was right!*
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> *I told them we weren't alone! That the ocean was talking to me! And now that it's flooding in, the ocean brings them with him! All these buffoons who would laugh behind my back, they know fear these wonders. At the sight of these magnificent specimens they run in all directions, screaming. They do not realize the incredible chance they have to admire them, to contemplate their splendor.*
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> *I need to get closer to these creatures! Closer, always closer. I will finally be recognized for my talent! One of these creatures might even carry my name! I will be praised by all the universities. They can't ignore me now! They'll stop thinking I'm mad! Oh joy, oh joy, what pleasure! Come see me. I await your arrival. I will take good care of you.*
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> -A.P.
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## Call of the Ocean

> *Tonight the air forced me to leave the hotel. The putrid smell of rotting seaweed and fish made it hard to breathe. I remembered a huge apple tree and thought it may be nicer there. Moreover, I was afraid that the hotel owner would see my seizures...*
> *The visions occurred when I was a few blocks from the apple tree, walking **E. Brown Street in central Shells.** I felt like I was drowning. I ran forward, and when I passed the street of **St. Michael's Church,** I felt the water surrounding me, pressing, calling. I needed all my will to fight the desire... the desire to go to the mair and sink into its depths.*
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Reed enters an empty house. By climbing the stairs and going through the first door on the left, he will find a room with a dead octopus. On the desk next to it is a strange artifact ; Mind's Eye reveals a note which reads:

> *My cherished flock,*
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> *Kay, I believe, has forsaken us ; assuming, of course, any such being exists.*
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> *Are we to die frightened ? Are we to die mad ? Death would be merciful indeed in the face of this second Flood. There will be no rainbow to blossom over our corpses.*
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> *The Sea beckons to me in a way scripture never has, as she has always done since beasts who would be men oozed from her briny womb.*
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> *I will go to seek Her soon, and draw Her salt-laden baptismal breath into my own lungs. May She forgive us for our hubris.*
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> *Your Shepard, Rev. Zachariah James Baker*
> -K.L.
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## Static in Ears

> *I was walking the **Lumbert Street in eastern Reed Heights** when it happened again. It's not just a vision, but a noise. Hissing radio static, growing louder and louder. Voices from afar were lost in it, crying desperately.*
> *I tried not to show how bad it was. I was afraid to reveal it to the locals. The images came after I passed **Bullock Street towards Healog Street.** The hissing flooded my mind and I saw a man surrounded by radios, talking to them. He was dying - I felt it - and when it happened, the vision was gone.*
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[...]
 Letter found at location reads:

> *?-?-19??*
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> *My name is... well, I am uncertain. It is lost in the static. I do not know anything I have lost it all. My mind is little but static interspersed with bits from the radio serial that was my life. No, not my life - my existence. I hear names... Margaret, Johnathan, Albert. I hear dates, places... June 7, 1912, at a church on a hill. It is these bits that I live for. It is the static that I will end my life for.*
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> *Every day, for as long as I can remember, the static has gotten louder. I have sunk deeper as the voices grow quieter. They are being replaced. I am losing what little I have left. A new voice, unintelligible, yet one I understand more clearly than any radio program in my head. I fear for what I will become when I can no longer hold on. I'm choosing to go before the static - or the voice within it - becomes me. Goodbye Oakmont. I have sunk even further than you.*
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> -D.C.
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## Voices From the Pipes

> *I'm afraid of the bathroom and kitchen sink. Each time I want to wash my hands, I tremble in fear. What if they'll talk to me? This began after a vision in **western Reed Heights, near the crossing of Eibon, Ward and Baker Streets.***
> *I saw a man, naked and covered in blood, in a room without doors or windows. Surrounded by the dark holes of the pipes, he was cutting himself, piece by piece, feeding those copper mouths. They were whispering with voices, so sweet and promising, but full of hunger and hatred. How could he believe them? Could he even escape? And... had they noticed me?*
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[...]
Letter found at location reads:

> *Oh Mr. Bigley, the pipes, the pipes are calling.*
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> *I think you will recall that I have expressed concern about the drains in my bathroom numerous times over the last month. Obviously rattles, clunks and gurgles are of no concern to you, as you are yet to make a single visit, despite your assurances.*
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> *But what about the voices, Mr. Bigley? Will they be enough to get your wrench in hand? Well it's too late! No amount of tinkering or nut tightening can take back the offer they've made. How can I refuse? They say all I have to do is come down and join them. They've shown me a way. I don't like or understand it, but they say they've done it before many times. I just need a sharp knife.*
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> *I will join them piece by piece. And when I'm all gone up here I will be whole again down there. Whole and glorious. I am nervous, but they have assured me. That said, you assured me too.*
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> *No, I have no choice. They have offered immortality, ecstasy, and secrets unbound. But best of all, Mr. Bigley, the pipes are silent down there. I have been assured.*
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> *-S.M.*
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## From Behind

> *I can't help but turn around at any noise after what I saw yesterday. I walked down **the Murdock Avenue in western Advent, and near Oak Street** I was hit with an excruciating migraine. My nose started to bleed and the visions came.*
> *I saw one man writing a letter, and another about to strike him from behind. Somehow I was both the spectator and the sitting man, but no matter how I cried out warnings or tried to move, it didn't work. It seems I lost consciousness when the killer hit the man's head, and it took me several hours to get back to the hotel after.*
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[...]

Letter found at location reads:

> My dear Clara,
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> > It has been years since we last saw each other, and I still can’t sleep without looking at the picture you sent me of your family. I wish I had something to show, but pictures of this place would only bring you nightmares. What was I thinking when I left our hometown?
> >
> >
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> > I fear that I might be losing my sanity…
> >
> >
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> > You remember Dumont? My neighbor that works at the docks, I mentioned him in previous letters. He was always a good friend, but I don’t know what happened. He started screaming in the middle of the night, chanting about lost cities and saying strange words. I was never a religious man, but I don’t know how to explain his condition through science. I see strange things each time I look out the window, and I don’t know if they are really there or if it’s just my mind playing with the mist. Somehow, the senseless words of my friend start to make more sense each time I look at those wild incomprehensible shapes.
> >
> >
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> > I’ll return home as soon as I have enough money to do so. I hope to survive all this.
> >
> >
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> > Your beloved brother,
> >
> >
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> > Victor
> > Alberto Santos
> >
> >
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## Terrible Fetus

> *After this vision, I shake in fear at the sound of a child's cry. It happened in **western Reed Heights on Washington Street. I passed Eibon Street and was heading towards Oak Street**, but saw it...*
> *The thing was running so fast I didn't even understand what it was. It jumped from the window - and the vision struck me immediately. I saw a man, a doctor, hiding in the room. He was writing something with a shaking hand, something like a last will. And then I saw the thing stalking him! A fetus on thin pointy legs, with a little face full of evil and hatred! Its shrieking... I can't forget it!*
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[...]
Letter found at location reads:

> *My Dearest Comfort,*
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> *If my scrawl is an illegible scribble, forgive me. The shock of what I have delivered from the poor young woman's womb has affected my nerves. Her guttered screams still ring in my ears, and her birthed tragedy lurks near where I hide. Had my attendant not been attacked first, I would have certainly shared her fate.*
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> *The wriggling abomination that erupted from the waif's belly leapt from her body and attached itself to the nurse's throat with a wet smacking sound. Pulled behind it, the taut umbilical cord tore out the placenta in an eruption of bright blood that soaked my gown. Stunned, I looked into the mother's bulging eyes as she convulsed, and bit off her tongue between clenched grinding teeth. Falling backward in horror, I crawled behind a medical cabinet in the operating theater. I can now hear the sloshing movement of the afterbirth sliding across the floor as the terrible infant silently approaches.*
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> *I write this account on my surgical mask with the sturdy pen you gifted me last year near the Oakmont commons. May it now serve faithfully as my only weapon against the deformed babe.*
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> *Sincere Thanks,*
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> *Sebastian*
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## Innsmouther's Notes

> *The local Innsmouthers scare me a lot. I've never seen a place with so many ill people. Their faces pursue me even in visions! Recently I was in the northern part of **Grimhaven Bay, walking down Whisper street. I barely made it to Hubert Avenue** when the visions came.*
> *I stood among many Innsmouthers, disguised as one of them, and listened. Their leader read the story of a captain participating in pagan rites, copulating with savage witches and beasts, bringing sacrifices... I still remember his name - Obed.*
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[...] Letter found at location reads:

> *21 March 1856 - New South Wales*
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> *On that day we arrived near Ball's Pyramid, a giant rock around 2,000 feet high extending from the sea. The air is poisoned all around it, and you can barely see the tip of the monolith. The catch is good here, and brought us more gold. I had to give them two slave women we bought in Sumatra. Wretches were terrified when they saw them. Good riddance.*
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> *We landed on Lord Howe Islands, a few nautical miles away, for fresh water and fruit. The Hetty dinghy was put at sea at 8:15am. Last time we were here, in 1847, there were three settlers and their aboriginal wives. This time, only the women remained, and they were not the same. Tattooed, their eyes were red with blood, and dead animal carcasses were strewn around the camp. They slept on the floor beside the corpses.*
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> *We drank and danced with them, and one played a strange musical flute, with sounds we never heard before. One of them took me to her hut. While I was at it between her legs in the dark, Matthews came in with a torch. And I could see that above me the dead husband was hooked to the roof, the skin over his face dried like a hundred-year-old apple. Bones and clothes, he was, his mouth open and distorted in an endless shout.*
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> *I can still see his eyes, alive and rolling, looking at me. The witch was laughing hard while wiping her thighs, all her teeth filed to a point like a wolf, or a shark. We fled this cursed place, leaving the witches behind.*
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> *-Obed Marsh Diary*
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## Lullaby Crossroad

> *Today I feel asleep on the street! I'm sure it's connected to my visions somehow, because I felt the same nausea and headache as before they strike. It happened in **Coverside, near the corner of Tanner street and Old Church Road**. I felt dizzy and my mouth was full of a bittersweet taste. I saw a woman with kind eyes, giving me a drink and whispering something.*
> Immediately after that I fell asleep, and spent nearly half the day lying in the dirt like a hobo. It's a miracle no one stole anything from me!
>
>

*[...]*
Letter found at location reads:

> *The recipe was left to me by my grandmother, and when Lily was little, I used it quite often. A couple of drops in her milk, and she slept sweetly all night. My husband and I finally had a little time for each other.*
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> *Of course, that was long ago, and since then I haven't needed Grandma's sleeping elixir. But now everything's changed. It was two days ago that Bill barricaded the windows because we could not bear to see the corpses on the street. We're locked in and we're out of food.*
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> *The worst are the nights. Impossible to sleep because of the squeals of death, and other terrible sounds. We should flee, but there is no place to go. I'm afraid as fate draws near that we'll end up like the Bakers.*
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> *I do not want this for my little Lily. While my husband barred the entrance, I made my grandmother's tea. Lily drank her dose and went to bed, and Bill's getting faint too. It's time for me to join them.*
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> *Goodnight, Oakmont.*
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> *-B.G.*
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## Trivia

* The letters were written by fans and selected by the game developers through a cultural contest.
* Each note's title is the initials of it's author.
* **Voices from the Pipes** may be inspired by Stephen King's IT, when Beverly Marsh hears children voices coming from her bathroom's sink drain.
* **Forlorn Woman** could come from one of Lovecraft's stories, The Color out of Space (read here). In the story, the mother of a family is locked into a room after going mad, and slowly rots from an alien disease.

* **From behind** references a man named Dumont, which is a reference to the Brazilian inventor and aviation pioneer Alberto Santos Dumont.