Unsigned Statement #7229

Unsigned Statement #7229   (Anonymous recounter. Given 19th July 2008 by Earth time. Recorded on Veras Crystal 31st March 2017 by Earth time. Audio transcription by Vath Heross, assistant archival recorder. Supplement included.)   Statement follows:   Never go into the desert alone. You will regret it. You'll never catch me doing it again, personally.   Perhaps I should start at the beginning. I was part of a caravan plying our wares between the Hardkin cities of Graasi and Jiraam. We sold linens, thick bolts of cloth from the southern cities dyed a thousand, nay, a thousand thousand colours. I rather enjoyed my job; I was the person in charge of the accounting for the caravan. Every silver noble or brass penny was kept in our ledgers through my accurate record-keeping.   One day, we were travelling across the dunes of the northern deserts, barely skirting the edge of the mountains, when we came upon a village. The streets were completely deserted, and it looked Stalwartkin in origin. We knocked on a door, hoping to look for customers, but not one house had occupants. A quick glance in windows and through open doorways showed the village to be empty of people.   One of the buildings in the town was a library. Its books were carefully organized, not unlike the files of this Archive. What was incredibly horrifying was the thick, sticky, smelly layer of blood coating the floor. It wasn't until a Featherkin member of our group half-climbed up a bookshelf and looked down on it that we discovered the blood made the shape of a gigantic, unblinking eye. The sight made me sick, and we figured that some warlord or disgusting cult had slaughtered the town and taken away the bodies.   As I was about to return to the caravan, I felt an odd feeling. Do you ever feel like you're being watched? That prickling feeling you get on the back of your neck, leading you to believe that someone, somewhere, is staring at you?   This was like that, but much, much stronger. I spun around, looking all around me. My younger brother said it looked like I was looking for my brains but had no luck, but I couldn't shake the sentiment. At mealtimes, as I went to bed, the moment I woke up from a fitful sleep; every single moment of the next two days, I felt a presence looking at me, staring at me. A creeping dread filled my every thought, as if the presence would become physical at any moment.   I insisted that we never take that route through the northern deserts again. We would take the mountain passes, bandits and monsters be damned. I was the only one, apparently, affected by this oppressive fear, and nothing came of it beyond a few sympathetic glances and the occasional sad look.   I came here because I hoped that you would know where to look for whoever is doing this. I figure it's a form of divination, like I'm being scried on. Every once in a while, I get the feeling again, but it's less intense now that I'm in Limbo.   I felt the need to come in particularly urgently today because I received a strange letter, which I will enclose with this statement. I am afraid for what this entails, and I will be retiring to the Renathian countryside in order to escape whatever consequences would arise if I stay.   I doubt I will ever forget what happened, however. That unblinking eye haunts my nightmares whenever I manage to fall asleep.   End of Statement.   Supplement: a letter written in red ink. A large orange eye is scrawled at the bottom of the letter in place of a signature.   Supplement follows:   It sees you. You cannot flee. Its vision sees past the veil of dimensions, pierces your thoughts and follows your every movement.   If you run, It will find you. If you stay, It will find you. If you try to find it, It will find you first.   It sees all. It is unblinking.   It is always watching.   End of Supplement.