The Diary of Dr. Herbert West
"Splatterhouse" and the characters herein are not of my own
creation; they belong to Namco. Certain characters and objects described
are also not of my own; they are the ideas of a great writer named Howard
Phillips Lovecraft (1890-1937) and to various other writers who contributed
to the "Cthulu Mythos".
The Diary of Dr. Herbert West
October 30, 1968
Tonight is the night my mansion is completed. As of right
now, I'm writing this diary in the newly completed master bedroom of mine.
I've earned the privilage to have my mansion since fighting so hard to
establish THE first parapsychology classes at the Miskatonic University.
This accomplishment will bring the world a new interest: things beyond
the thin veil of reality our human perception limits us to see. Also,
since I'm in a forest that isn't too far from the university, I can conveniently
find the time to study a new find from a Mayan temple: the so-called "Horror
Mask" as inscribed on the very walls of a human sacrifice chamber.
But for now, I believe I need to rest, despite my excitement of the mansion
being built. My wife was so happy the new house was built into a peaceful
location outside of the busy city. After her miscarriage with our only
child, she could use the peaceful environment to calm her soul down. The
mansion is complete with indoor plumbing, a large kitchen, and even a
special walk-in closet that houses many mirrors and is as big as a hall
so my wife can try out her new clothing.
My wife and I aren't the only ones happy about the new
home. The two butlers and two maids that have served our family are also
excited the mansion was built here. They can enjoy fishing with Dr. Mueller,
the town's finest physician and my longtime friend. His house is located
behind the hill behind this house.
Well, my wife is asking me to turn out the light and get some sleep. I'd
best turn in for now.
October 31, 1968
From the early morning, my wife took a stroll into the
woods and the servants furnished the mansion with furniture, dishes, decor,
and so on. It's beginning to feel like home already. But, on with what
my purpose of what this diary was for: the mask. This mask has a curious
design. Though carved from a human skull, if one takes a first glance
without knowing what it was, one could mistake it for a hockey mask. The
"straps", if you will, are built of a rather strange bundle
of elastic material for flexibility; possibly human tendons and ligaments
completely preserved to prevent rotting or stiffening. The straps end
in the center behind the mask with interlocking fingerbones (possibly
from a sacrificed infant at that time) that hold the mask in place. It's
been known that the mask itself was meant for ritual human sacrifices
at the Mayan temples of old. The shamans of this culture wore this mask
to have contact with their diety(ies) and gain more spiritual power.
Though many consider such methods as barbaric, I believe we can understand
the ancient civilization much better with careful study. Through parapsychology,
we may even find yet a new source of power to contact the spirit world
through the study of this mask. I believe that with this understanding,
we may be able to open our eyes even further into the supernatural.
For now, I'll end my studies and join my wife to hunt a
few of the flora and fauna here. If I have any new findings, I'll post
them here in my book.
December 1, 1968
In the back of the mask (through running my fingers quite
a few times), I've found that there was a false backing. Upon removal,
I've spotted a series of what appeared to be Egyptian heiroglyphics, Arabic
writing, and a language I've never seen before. Though I'm baffled as
to why the Mayans would even have knowledge of Arabic or Egyptian, I've
already spent most of the day working on translations. Even the pictograms
didn't make sense. They showed pictures of some kind of chaotic being
transforming into some kind of strange pharoah. The Arabic writing (through
many hours of translation) even spoke of gibberish. Something like "Iä
Nyarlathotep Ftaugn". I'll have to do some research at the library
some other time. Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary.
March 20, 1969
Though it has taken me a while, I've found something interesting
that baffles me about the mask even more: The strange language I saw in
the back of the mask matches the symbols from an ancient tome from the
Miskatonic University called Necronomicon, which happened to be written
by a mad Arab named Abdul Alhazared. The original book, according to sources,
is writ in blood and bound by flesh, and many have a strange fear for
this ancient tome. However, it was later written by the mad Arab using
papyrus and bound by different threads. I'll have to admit, holding this
book, I tremble at what unknown power and darkness this has. Though I
see the connection between the Arabic and the tome on the mask's inscriptions,
I fail to see how the Mayans had even known about these other cultures.
I hadn't read much into the book itself, so I'll start researching from
the mad man's book.
September 5, 1969
The Necronomicon has shown me yet another link! According
to the book, "Nyarlathotep" is not a word of another language,
but rather the name of a god. Nyarlathotep, also named "The Crawling
Chaos", was a dark and evil Egyptian pharaoh that history had not
recorded. He is described as one who can change his form between a beast
no man can view without going insane, and a man who can blend into any
crowd, even with a sinister shine in his eyes. It's been mentioned in
the book that he revels in the darkness of man, preying upon that, and
feasting upon our evil energies. Someone once said, "evil is what
man produces as bees to honey." If such were the case, Nyarlathotep
is our beekeeper. In this case of my research, if the Mayans held Nyarlathotep
as their chief deity, that would mean the temple itself could be a source
of power because of all the blood spilled on the altars. Only in theory
though. I still ask myself, "Could it be possible this evil god of
Egypt had made contact with the Mayans in the days of old?"
October 31, 1969
It has already been more than a year since this mansion
was built. I hadn't written anything for a while because of my late wife.
Within an entire month, my wife had contracted a fatal malady. The city's
best physician, Dr. Mueller, gave her many medicines to combat the illness,
but to no avail. I'm only thankful that she died in her sleep. My dearest
Henrietta. I'll miss you so much. Rest in peace.
December 25, 1969
To pass the time in my sorrow, I've been reading into the
Necronomicon. I have figured out that Nyarlathotep had indeed been in
South America for a while. The book spoke of how Nyarlathotep is but only
one of many dark beings that serve an even greater chief deity named Azatoth.
The precise language of the alien language behind the mask itself originates
from a god named Cthulu, who is reported to be at the bottom of the Atlantic
in his primordial city, R'yleh. I guess even in Cthulu's inactive state,
Nyarlathotep (among the other gods) are still at work. It solves the mystery
of what the inscriptions were on the mask had originated from. The question
that remains, however, is if the mask truly provided immense spiritual
On a side note, this lonely mansion has seen better days.
I haven't slept in the master bedroom for quite some time since my wife's
passing. The servants are worried about me as my appearance has been quite
disheveled. A suggestion they provided to liven the house a little would
be to invite some of my parapsychology students and some staff members
into my house for a party. I'm not quite so sure I'd want to do that since
nothing can make me happy anymore, even on this holiday. All I've got
left to live for is the research on this mask.
Post scriptum: 3:45 AM Same date: I've had a wierd dream.
I'm not so sure if it's significant, but I've dreamt of the mask floating
in front of me as I stood in the dream's void. It was talking to me. Not
so much as moving lips, but like it was a voice in my mind. It kept telling
me that Henrietta doesn't have to die. Maybe I just need a break from
all this research.
January 2, 1970
It's a new year. I've spent quite some time sleeping my
days away. Maybe it's depression or maybe I've exhausted myself. All the
same, I haven't done much research on the mask. I did notice, however,
a butler and a maid left their resignation on my research desk. Odd, though.
They seemed happy here.
Post scriptum: 5 AM Same date: Lately, I've had recurring
nightmares of the mask's infernal temptations and visions of me killing
that maid and butler with a two-by-four. The mask talking to me, I might
believe, but I KNOW for a fact I don't have nearly enough power in me
to bludgeon my workers with such an object and make my walls slick with
gore. Besides, why would I even WANT to hurt such good people? That mask
also kept telling me tonight, "THREE MORE."
January 30, 1970
For weeks now, my servants have been complaining of seeing
ghosts in the house. I went ahead and called the local priest to do an
exorcism in the mansion. He mentioned something about these grounds being
desecrated and suggested building a church around here. It gave me a notion
to give permission to have the church built here inside my mansion. Lately,
I've been feeling ill and I could use some spritual help.
Post scriptum: Before I retire for the night in my study,
I've decided to record all my dreams here in the diary. I have a feeling
some significance relates the events of what's happening now to that of
my dreams and that mask.
February 3, 1970
The priest ran into the woods this morning!! He acted
as though he'd seen something to really scare him. Then he looked at me
as if I would kill him! I wonder what happened?
February 10, 1970
It's been a week since the priest disappeared. I've had
the police look into the matter. It appears as though the priest never
even showed up in town, either. I hope he's ok.
February 11, 1970
3:50 AM- The mask spoke to me again. It showed me a vision
of me using a large blade to decapitate the priest. It was saying two
more of something...
February 14, 1970
I know I've been sleeping a lot lately, but I've also
noticed my other maid and butler had ran off! I'm alone. I might have
been acting cold, but I was just doing my research! It was either do some
work to ease my pain, or continue mourning Henrietta's passing! Irony
of ironies, all this has happened on such a day too.
2 AM: I had seen a horrible vision, yet again. My remaining
two had been hanging from a noose made of barbed wire.
February 28, 1970
Police officers had stopped by. They inquired about the
disappearances of my servants and the priest. They had been searching
everywhere in my mansion. Obviously, they turned out with nothing. How
would I or the officers tell the families of my employees about the disappearances?
The police left my abode empty-handed.
4:59 AM - Another horrifying vision! The police kept shooting
at me, but the hollow points that tore through flesh and sinew had no
effect on stopping me! The police ended up being gutted by the chainsaw
I was using to make firewood. Their screams and cries made me sick to
my stomach. The gore made my blood run cold. Then the mask spoke to me
again: "YES! MORE THAN ENOUGH!! READ THE BOOK. PRAISE ME AND I SHALL
SHOW THE WAY!!"
March 3, 1970
I've decided to follow my dreams and read into the book.
A wind that was cold as death blew onto the book, as if someone, or something,
wanted me to read something from the Necronomicon. Maybe...just maybe...
March 13, 1970
What have I done? In my attempt to revive my only happiness
in life, I've called upon that accursed incantation and unleashed Hell
in these woods. Upon recital of the words from that damned book, I had
seen the servants, the police, and that priest. I couldn't have, could
I? In my sorrow, could I have snapped and killed these people? The angered
spirits of those people floated to the ceiling of a nearby cavern where
I performed the ritual. I heard large footsteps behind me, and before
I knew it, I was unconscious. I had just came to today. The mask told
me earlier that I was actually dead and that it saved me. I have to do
whatever it takes to undo this curse I have brought upon myself and others.
I can feel for a fact this mask has given me immense superhuman strength
as long as I don the mask on my face.
March 16, 1970
The power I'm wielding within myself with this mask is
so intoxicating!! I, myself, had no combat training, but a solitary punch
that lands on one of those strange humanoids and I completely obliterrate
its upper torso! I could take an ordinary thigh bone and crush someone's
skull without much effort! My accuracy with a shotgun is intensely amazing!!
Nothing can stop me!!
March 20, 1970
I saw Henrietta again. I was so happy for a moment. But
somehow, Fate's sense of humor stepped in and she changed into a giant,
hound-like beast with vertical jaws, and eyes to the side of its head.
The beast was a quadriped with two individual forearms at the front, and
matted gray fur. My own wife attacked me! I didn't have any other choice!!
All I could do was take the chainsaw clutched to my hands...
March 22, 1970
I stepped into the chapel section of my mansion. When
I looked at the place, I remembered something about the priest saying
the place was desecrated. The statement alone seemed like an understatement.
The cross that hanged behind the pulpit suddenly came to life, brimming
with evil energy. It flipped upside down and took the heads of the dead
officers to surround it as though shielding itself. Taking the machete,
I divided the craniums and shattered the evil cross. What exactly have
I been doing?
March 30, 1970
It finally dawned on me like some Biblical revelation.
When I returned from the destruction of the sacreligious chapel to the
master bedroom where I had slain my wife, there was a mysterious hole
I had not seen before. The outer rim of the hole was covered in flesh
and brimmed with unholy life. I jumped down the hole and discovered that
I was in a birthing canal! Creatures kept showing up on the walls, with
shimmering silver flesh, which felt like it was made of placenta. One
of them tried to cling on to me and suck the life out of me! Of course,
I killed the damned thing, but more of them kept coming! These ungodly
things were being created every second with parasitic energy! In the walls
alone, I have found my victims, rotting and used up! I realized I was
the one feeding these bastards with people who didn't have to die!! At
the end of the fleshy tunnel, a gargantuan heart rested, bursting with
more parasitic young. Filled with rage at myself and the things around
me, I attacked the heart, but found myself short of breath and dizzy.
The mask revealed that heart was MY heart! How? Was it my own creation?
April 1, 1970
After I cleared my study of rotting flesh that harbored
these worm-like creatures, I began to understand everything so clearly.
The mask is a conduit to the wearer's mind where Nyarlathotep can whisper
insane non-sequitors into their mind. Those that follow and succumb to
them go insane, but gain a massive amount of power. Looking back, I've
finally realized the whole story: all those entries where there was an
unusually large gap between dates, before the invasion, clearly showed
that I wasn't sleeping; I blacked out. My mind had snapped and had donned
the mask, and I committed the murders on innocent people. The police had
their suspicions of me committing the murders, but my alter ego collaborated
with Nyarlathotep to make sure the police made no further advancement
out of the woods. This whole time, the house was alive because I was alive!
When I discovered noises from the chapel I had cleared out, I had seen
that the evil cross had pieced itself back together! All the monstrosities
I had obliterrated were whole again! I have Henrietta's body here with
me and she's regenerating. No! Not Henrietta; the sinister being I brought
into this world. I still have one shell left in the shotgun. I can theorize
if I kill myself, the creatures won't just simply go away, but it will
prevent them from regenerating. The mask, however, is immortal. For the
mask, itself, was created from a section of flesh from the Crawling Chaos,
himself. Henrietta is close to completion. I know I'll spend an eternity
in Hell for what I've done, but I hope that whoever stumbles onto this
cursed house, they'll find my journal. From these pages, I pray they'll
excercise caution before taking the mask. If I die, then maybe Henrietta's
defiled corpse will wilt and be put back to rest. Rest. I'll finally get
some real rest instead of blackouts. May God forgive me for what I've
October 30, 1990
Doing the research from Herbert West's journal, I eventually
found this "Horror Mask" Dr. West spoke of years ago when I
treated his wife. It seems impossible to believe anyway. Even the report
of a local student from Miskatonic University venturing into the old mansion
is hard to believe. Everyone knows it's possible this Rick person could
have slain his girlfriend, Jennifer, in that house!
In truth, one could theorize that Dr. West had snapped
because, shamefully, he found out I was having an affair with his wife
in my house nearby while West kept researching the mask. Although, I'll
have to admit, the find and reading the Necronomicon is completely astounding!
Everything relating the Egyptian heiroglyphs, arabic writing, and Cthulu's
language to Alhazared's daemonology, and even this Nyarlathotep is amazing,
yet incredible, as well. I'll continue this research later. The fish are
jumping in the river outside. Maybe I'll be credited for this research
after all. I can't wait to reap the rewards of West's research!
Dr. Mueller, PhD Medicine and Parapsychology