October 24th

I have just returned from Archibold’s. That was quite a discussion we had, there is so much to unpack. I cannot wait to pick apart the tentacle that I found, but I also need to write out what transpired while I was talking with Archibold. The first thing that happened when I entered through the front door was that I was greeted by a maid, who directed me to the parlor, and also a sweet old cat, which rubbed up against my legs. The cat’s long, thick fur was a deep yellow, as bright as the bell around her neck. Inside the parlor there were two couches and a table. The shelves all along the walls were crammed full of books and there were books piled on every available surface with stacks as high as ten books for the thicker novels and forty or fifty for smaller handbooks and almanacs. The maid left to fetch Archibold and I sat down on the smaller of the two couches. The cat leapt up onto the couch and sat next to me, purring loudly as I scratched her neck and back.

After a few minutes, Archibold entered the room and made his way to the other couch, deftly moving his large frame around the piles of books. He smiled at the cat as he passed and told me “Bella likes you.” Now I must admit I do prefer Bella to my own cat, who refuses to curl up next to me. The warmth of her body against my hand calmed my excitement from finding that tentacle and helped me shift my focus from what was in my bag to the man sitting in front of me.

I have yet to properly describe Archibold as of yet, but I also have failed to get a good look at him up until this point. He has a bulbous nose and a thick beard along the sides of his face. His beard has faded to white, while the hair atop his head, although thinning, has stayed grey, with flecks of black still here or there. Archibold has drooping bags under his eyes and seems to have a sickly complexion, which contrasts with the sharp look in his eyes that is not normally present with someone who looks so weak, although Archibold does not appear weak, quite the contrary, he appears to be in great physical health considering his age. Overall however, Archibold was rather strange looking. I could not quite put a finger on what it was specifically what it was that was giving me that feeling, maybe it was the precise mixture of all his features.

Archibold sat on the couch perpendicular to mine and we began to talk. We quickly set aside the pleasantries and, while I cannot remember how we got to the topic, our conversation quickly turned to Father. I will try to write out as much as I can of it, however we talked for a while, so I may remove the unnecessary parts.

“I used to be a lot like Edward.” Archibold told me.

“How were you similar to him?” I had asked.

“I was a businessman. Not as cunning as your father, certainly, but we are both self made men.”

“Self made men? Surely not! What about the money from my grandfather? Did my father not build himself up with the fortune provided to him by others?”

“That was only for a short time. Tell me, what do you know about your father’s youth?”

“Not much. I know he lived in the same manor which I call home, but it is no longer his home, he has not lived there in nearly seventeen years.”

“So you do not know why he lived there? Your grandfather lived in London, afterall.”

“What? I did not know that. I don’t think I ever even met my grandfather.”

“He didn’t always live here. I once lived in London as well. I was their neighbor. The age difference of Edward to me is about the same as I am to his father. Your grandfather taught me all about business and it is thanks to him that I have what I have today, especially all my beloved books.”

Here Archibold patted one of the books beside him. The smile on his face was one of fondness that I had rarely seen before. I could not quite make out the writing on that book’s spine, but it clearly was of special importance to him. It sat on the table all alone, without any books above or below it. There was even space cleared out around it. Archibold paused, in thought for a couple moments, then continued speaking.

“Edward was exiled from his home in London because he refused to marry. It took your grandfather a great effort to come to a decision, but eventually he chose to send Edward away to a remote town at the foot of a mountain in Europe. He paid for a large chunk of property as well as a large manor, which had been abandoned and derelict. He had it remodeled, designed to confine your grandfather’s shame. The day before Edward left, however, his father came to me in tears, the only time I have ever seen that man cry. He begged me to follow your father. To keep him safe during his isolation. He did not even attempt to hide his worry for his son. I could not refuse. The man who I owed my life to needed my help. I accepted. Using much of the money I had at the time, I followed your father and purchased this house. I have lived here ever since, and I have been intricately connected to your family ever since.”

“Wait a moment, please. What do you mean Father refused to marry? Did he not willingly marry Mother?”

“Yes, he did.” Archibold said slowly. “Your mother was the daughter of a duke, Mathew. Your father was poised to marry into a very influential family, and was already the heir to a financial empire. Everything was going perfectly, but he was stubborn. He refused that life because it was chosen for him, and he did not love Eleanor.”

“Yet they got married anyway? While I am practically royalty, I am treated like a bastard son.”

“Eleanor’s family does not even know of your existence, Mathew, but if you will listen I shall explain to you why you are living here and not in London. It was an arranged marriage, as you know, but to make matters worse, Eleanor’s family was very insistent. She did not have as much value to them, and was the youngest of four sisters. There was a lot of trouble within her family and they wanted to get rid of her. Under the guise of a political marriage, they could get rid of the daughter that caused them issues, and this was the perfect opportunity. Three days after I arrived here, Eleanor arrived on my doorstep late at night, soaking wet and shivering cold. She was told that she could not return home until she married Edward, and Edward was told the same thing.”

“Well what caused him to stay after he married Mother?” I had asked him, but at that moment the maid who had shown me to the parlor entered the room once more carrying a tray and Archibold fell silent. The tray bore a silver tea pot and tea cups as well as many biscuits and tiny cakes. Archibold shifted the stacks of books around, combining several until he had made space on the table. The maid carefully set the tray down. Archibold thanked her then he handed her the book, covering its title from my view. He asked her to take it upstairs and she grabbed it, looked at the title, looked at me, and blushed faintly.

“I do not wish to discuss your parents any more today.” Archibold told me. The conversation then shifted to more mundane topics and I began to lose attention as Archibold rambled on about his favorite authors.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I have not heard about most of what Archibold told me. Do I know if he is even telling the truth? Although, it does make sense that Father would be stubborn, but the way Archibold said it implied he isn’t anymore…. Apparently Father lost everything when he was exiled here. But the implications of what happened to Mother… I wonder… no. Well, maybe… I am starting to think that the book Archibold was holding onto has something to do with it.

But still, Archibold is rather weird, no? First of all, the piles and piles of books, thrown about with no rhyme or reason. He appears to have no organization. Secondly, assuming his story is all true, he chased after Father at the behest of my grandfather. Surely he would have been able to live however he wanted, why would he want to live in a tiny town like this one? Especially for the past thirty odd years. And, more concerning, I have never met him before until Father came back. If he is so “connected to my family”, shouldn’t he have visited me at least once since Mother died or after Father went off to travel the world?

October 24th

I really dove into studying the octopus tentacle. It has been thoroughly taken apart. I will save the more gruesome details for my scientific journal, as well as the sketches of it. I will say, however, that it had quite a fascinating design. There are long fibers that run lengthwise inside it, and seem to be as strong as steel, I cannot imagine how it could have broken off from the main body. I have the entire thing stretched out on boards in my basement laboratory. I finally got around to adding lanterns in the corners for better lighting which made it easier to see what I was doing.

As more time passes however, I am still thinking about what Archibold told me. It calls to mind the conversation I had with Father on the 17th of October. Why did Father stay here if he just abandoned me after Mother died? If he wanted to see me, why did he not come visit sooner? Why now? It is almost inconvenient, when he chose to show up. Perhaps I misjudged him. Maybe I should talk to Father about it.

October 25th

I have been thinking about that octopus monster. It is able to walk, right? This means that the tentacles are what make up its limbs. What is its body like? Most of its organs must be in the body, as it would be too exposed in the “head” like a normal octopus. The strong fibers inside the tentacle makes me think that it is meant to act similar to bones, perhaps being able to stiffen, providing a strong structure for the surrounding muscles to push off of. This would result in a muscular and skeletal system that is able to become limp at a moment’s notice, perhaps designed to reduce blunt force damage inflicted upon the body and limbs.

I need to research octopuses more. Maybe Archibold has books on that subject. I will have to visit him tomorrow. In the meantime, I would like to try talking to Father about the events of yesterday.

I missed him by perhaps fifteen minutes. I do not know where Father went, all I know is that he left the manor. I mostly just stayed inside today. I looked through my own library but my search proved futile.

October 26th

I started today by getting some books from Archibold. When I entered his house, I was once again met by the cat. She was resting upon the stairs by the door, as if expecting my arrival. Archibold’s maid met me, rather than Archibold himself. I asked her for any and all books he may have on octopuses, to which she nodded meekly then began shuffling around in the parlor.

I stood waiting in the foyer but after a few minutes of watching the maid search through piles of books, she invited me into the parlor turned library to sit while she struggled to find the books.

“Why do you want so many books on this specific animal?” she asked me. Naturally, I cannot tell her about what I have found. So I had to come up with a convincing lie.

“Just fascinated, that’s all. I have never seen anything like it and when I read about it in one of my books, I needed to know more.”

She smiled at me briefly before turning back to a pile of books and pulled out one. She flipped through it and then ran her finger down one page. She closed the book then handed it to me.

“Here you go. I think Archibold has a couple more lying around. Please wait a few more moments.” She said.

“These books should really be sorted.” I told the maid.

“Oh believe me, I tried.” She informed me. “Archibold keeps getting more and more books, and doesn’t put them away when he is done reading.”

Archibold never struck me as the kind of man to do that. He has such an abundance of books everywhere that I assumed he simply ran out of space to put the books away, but if it is true that he gets more books on a regular basis, he must have a truly spectacular supply line of literature. I think the maid’s behavior is a little bit odd. I cannot quite figure out what it is, but it almost feels as if she knows something that she is not telling me. Each person has their own secrets, I suppose. She gave me a few more books as well. The books were small and I imagine I could get through them rather quickly. Looking at them right now, the books are no more than 100 pages combined.

After she gave me the books, I left and then proceeded to the town. In town, I began to ask around to see if anyone saw anything weird. The monster I have kept encountering seems to be all over the place. I went to ask if anyone else had seen anything strange. To my surprise, only two people had seen anything. A young man told me that when he had gone home last night, he encountered a beast standing in the road. He vividly described its eyes as piercing red, as if of blood and rage. He also described it as furry, which does not seem right. From what I have seen, the monster is not furry. Is there perhaps another monster running rampant in the town? Another man I talked to informed me of the disappearance of farm animals from the surrounding areas. I would suspect that this beast is eating it, as it seems to be some kind of canine. The man’s description is very lacking, so I have little information to go off of. However, if what he says is true, then there are at least two monsters loose in this town. I must capture them before anyone else is able to!

Another man I met, this time an older fellow, informed me of something that he saw. He told me that he saw a figure standing in the tree line away from the road at a section where it went around a corner. He was going on a stroll when he encountered what I believe to be the octopus monster. He described it to me as a shambling mass of arms and rotting flesh. He was scared, almost too scared to describe it to me. What he saw could explain why he was so reluctant to let me in, although he eventually relented and I was able to enter his home. It was his neighbor that told me that the old man had seen something strange. Talking to the neighbor’s daughter, she told me that they often shared tea together, as her father was old friends with the old man, but that it seemed something had happened on his walk the previous day as when he returned, it was not quite the same. I have already described it as he told me, but that did not include the most important details. The man informed me that it stood on two legs. That shook me. I could not think of a single animal similar in shape to it that would be able to walk on two legs. The old man was certain that it was once a person. He described it as a mass of tentacles that had enveloped and devoured the human’s body. Spikes and bones stuck out of its body, especially prominent around its shoulders and chest.

He refused to describe the monster’s face although I think I could guess what it may have looked like. It might have had a rotting appearance. I would imagine it is grossly disfigured in some way. I implored him to tell me, but he refused. After several minutes of arguing back and forth, the young woman asked me to leave. I reluctantly left the residence but not before asking her to refrain from asking the man what he had seen. It must have been something so horrifying that he could not bear to describe it again. What could it possibly look like?

October 26th

Upon further reflection, I think it is possible that the octopus monster uses the bones as a rudimentary skeleton, either using the bones of its “host” victim, assuming there is a host, or maybe it scavenged materials from its surroundings, taking bones from dead animals or perhaps even using tree branches and sticks to prop itself up. I hypothesize that it has a twisting pattern of tentacles around the makeshift skeleton.