The Curious Tale of Stanley Greaves
Wherein much is revealed as to Stan's true nature ...

By all accounts young Mr Greaves was a picture of respectability.  He was born to a highly properous family of migrants from the far east and his father was also a decorated war hero.  Stanley excelled in his studies and soon completed a Master's Degree in psychology, as he had been fascinated by the workings of the mind since childhood.  He owned a stately house in a relatively genteel part of town, was respectably employed at a local hospital where he did much good work and overall he was regarded as an upright and intelligent young man of not inconsiderable ability.

True, there were those who found his lifestyle a little eccentric, but nothing which led anyone to suspect he was anything other than a young single professional man devoted to his friends and his work.  A certain aspect of his lifestyle, however, came to our attention and Stanley Greaves soon came under our most careful scrutiny as a result.

We call ourselves 'the Watchers', though usually we deny that 'we' exist at all.  We come from many and various backgrounds, some rich people who study arcane matters others people considered lunatics by the general population.  We are all over the world, communicating via computer.  Despite our differing backgrounds we have one purpose in common: to stop anyone who threatens to open our dimension up to the horrors which writhe beyond the bounds of ordinary perception.  Each of us has experienced the cold darkeness which gibbers beyond reality at some time in our lives and have since dedicated ourselves to protecting humanity from being, perhaps, too curious.

The Watchers first became aware of Stanley Greaves when it was reported that he occasionally dressed in costume from other eras.  It was well-known that a strong association with ancestors or by-gone eras was an early sign of someone meddling with dark powers, so a local Watcher was sent to investigate.  He reported that Greaves certainly did wear costume of years gone by and seemed morbidly facinated by many aspects of ancient battles and wars.  On learning this we placed Greaves under closer observation and began finding out a little more about him.  On closer investigation his respectable facade fell away to reveal something much more sinister.

While his house was certainly in a well-heeled area, it was revealed that it was also very close to one of the roughest and least savoury neighbourhoods in town.  Furthermore, it appeared that Greaves often visited the public houses and rough bars of the area and consorted with all manner of uncouth people, including many foreigners.  Many of these drunken and licentious reprobates would visit Greaves in his home and often loud music and shouting was heard late into the night.

Investigating more carefully, the local Watchers discretely questioned his neighbours, who whispered tales of late night drinking binges and women of loose morals being seen in the house and several mentioned hearing revellers in Greaves' home shouting about 'Satan' and laughing uproariously.  One told of another name being shouted, 'Something with sounds like ... Ctuloo.' she said.

Cthulhu.  Our suspicions were being confirmed.

We needed to learn more about what Greaves was doing in that innocent looking house in Edward Street.  Watchers planted in a house over the street from his reported several occasions when shouts of what may have been 'Shub-niggurath' were heard coming from a gathering in Greaves' front room.  Soon we had every reason to believe a coven of cultists was gathering periodically in his house, but we needed to get inside to confirm our fears.  Soon he gave us our chance.

It appeared Greaves made many visits overseas, mainly to exotic and myterious Asia, no doubt to seek out arcane lore and the writings of ancient and obscene sects.  During one such absence I managed to enter his home undetected.  I soon found much evidence that Greaves was dabbling in arcane mysteries.  His house was filled with books on abstruse subjects and forgotten knowledge, with strange and grotesque paintings and posters and in places it is adorned with small octopus and squid totems - in obvious tribute to the One Who Sleeps Eternal.  One room was dedicated to a case filled with tiny men made of metal, while another held still more arcane tomes on many dusty bookshelves.  But it was here, also, in Stanley Greaves very bedchamber, that I found the proof we had sought.  There, on a shelf, stood a small idol of Great Cthulhu himself.

With trembling hands I picked it up and found it very heavy and made of some strange greenish substance which I could not identify.  There were sigils enscribed on the base, but they were in some foul and blasphemous script and I tore my eyes away from them.  The face of the idol was hideous and completely indescribable.  The eyes were bulbous, like that of a giant suid and its writhing tentacles spread out across it's broad amphibian chest.  I began to feel dizzy, and put the foul object down.

For a moment the dark bedroom spun around me.  I staggered, clutching at his bed to steady myself.  The night I had foolishly tried to raise Great Cthulhu came back to me - the midnight moonlit cemetary on the headland, my friends laughing behind me as I began the incantation, the vision of the Great One standing on the horizon - the last thing I remember before I blacked out.  And woke up in an asylum.

Now, years later,  here I was confronted with someone else who appeared on the brink of doing the same thing.  And, unlike me, he was no dabbler with a paperback editin of the Necronomicon.  He was clearly a seasoned practitioner of the dark and forbidden.  Through his travels and searching in the far off lands of his ancestors he had brought back unspeakable knowledge and was clearly adding to it though his associations with the unsavoury characters in his locale.  Now he had an idol of Cthulhu.  It was then that I realised that the only way we could stop Greaves was to kill him.  I left the house as quietly as I could and ensured I left no sign of forced entry.

I was not surprised when the others chose me as the executioner.  It has been left up to me as to when and how I strike.  I may pose as one of his patients, or I may befriend one of his friends - get to know him a little first.  The other Watchers know I have many ways to kill, things I learned in the isolation wing.  Now I use that knowledge for good - to remove a threat to us all.  However I do it, I know I don't have much time.  The calculations show that the constellations are right for a full summoning of Great Cthulhu on New Year's Eve 1999.  It is now clear that Greaves and his coven of cultists are waiting for this opportunity to unleash their ancient master and only I can stop him.

Rest assured - sometime between now and the end of 1999 I will have achieved my mission.