Why do the ritual circles glow with forbidden geometries? What makes the attic chamber resonate with otherworldly frequencies? How do the shadows form symbols older than humanity? Why do the walls whisper incantations in forgotten tongues? What causes the loch waters to ripple against the wind?
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Having to talk destroys the symphony of silence.
― Aleister Crowley, Diary of a Drug Fiend
Welcome to the Aleister Crowley’s Boleskine House!
As my inquiries into arcane matters have so often led me to realize, that which is forbidden or obscured from the minds of men is usually best left untouched. However, my curiosity got the better of me when I happened upon an old map of a certain blasphemous estate in the Scottish Highlands. Boleskine House, it was named, situated along the shores of the brooding alkaline waters known as Loch Ness.
The place was infamous as having been occupied, some decades past, by one Aleister Crowley. A name whispered in fearful tones wherever men of letters gather. I know him to have been an adept of the blackest magical sciences, devoted wholly to the worship of entities beyond the veil of humanity. It was at Boleskine that he performed his most depraved and perilous rituals, summoning dread forces from the gulfs betwixt the stars.
Studying the map revealed much of the blasphemies that once occurred within Crowley’s walls. The attic held a ceremonial chamber more suited for the outer gulfs beyond the universe than anything of our earth. There stood an unholy altar ringed by the bones and fluids of hapless critters. But far worse were the mysteries indicated in stains that even time could not remove. Bedrooms bore wounds in the floorboards from horrors best left unmentioned.
Most fearsome was what the map hinted of but did not show. The misted woods surrounding Boleskine, and the uttermost shores of the loch, where horrors that mind and tongue can barely suggestion were said to lurk. It seemed the very geography was warped and remnants of the nameless rituals worked their way into the moldering earth.
I fled that cursed map, and Scotland, with unseemly haste. Let those places of blasphemy remain lost to sane men. For who knows what nameless terrors still haunt those ancient walls, and what hellish entities may yet answer a summoning in those unhallowed grounds.
