Dear Diary,
Long have I suspected it, but this weekend we found conclusive proof that the insidious tendrils of his dread cult have reached the shores of England. We were invited to spend the day in the grounds of Chatsworth House, a dwelling of not inconsiderate size which was also home to the Duke & Duchesses collection of art & curios from around the world. The day proved a pleasant enough distraction from the weather that has plagued us of late, and collection he and his ancestors had amassed was indeed impressive.
However, this sense of wonder was replaced with one of shock when upon entering their private Chapel I was confronted with the form who’s countenance I have included in this missive – the skinless man, the dread avatar of all that is unholy, the Skinless Man! This, along with the number of representations of the Black Pharaoh that also dotted the adjacent rooms could lead me to only one conclusion, that the Duke and his family had been turned to the unholy worship of Nyarlothep himself! It all began to make sense, the opulence and fascination with changing forms, the remote nature of the abode! The curious village that rested just outside of my sight!
I returned shaken, only strong drink able to calm my shattered nerves. We must make preparations to defeat this evil, for this is surely a sign that dread tidings are on the horizon.
I remain, forever indebted for your correspondence.
A.
Note: More seriously, a lovely day was had at Chatsworth, the owners of which appeared to be lovely people (as did their ancestors). The piece is called “Saint Bartholomew, Exquisite Pain” and is by Damien Hirst – but the location and the proximity of all of the Egyptian artifacts fired off connections in my brain that I had to share. Apparently there is also a version of the same in Gloucester Cathedral as well should anyone feel the need to see it in person.
Midland Film Monkey 