The Yellow Robed Fiend

(from the Phillipine war diary of Lt. Guy Linley, United States Army)
August 7, 1899. Cotabato Valley, Phillipines:
They came over the eastern wall last night, led by a wild eyed devil in ragged yellow robes. The bastard was ferocious as a mad dog and some of the boys gave way and ran from him. I came within pistol range as he was dismembering a private from ohio with his great curved knife, I fired 2 rounds into his upper back and as he turned from his grisly work to face me I fired 2 more; one of which tore apart his lower jaw and another into the neck which ruptured the large artery. He stared at me for a moment, his face horribly disfigured and the lifeblood gushing from the neck wound, then he fled back to the jungle, scrambling over the 7 foot foot wall in a blur of yellow robes and splattering blood. That broke the attack but the crazed chanting continued throughout the night.
August 11:
 Another attack last night, they did not make the walls this time but I spotted the yellow robed man again near the tree line. He had wrapped his lower face in a yellow scarf but by his bearing I know it was the same man, he did not take his eyes from me during the entire episode. I ordered corporal Williams to sniper him but yellow robe faded into the jungle before Williams could get a bead on him.
Something is not right here, how he survived the 4 rounds I put into him is beyond imagining. The 38 long colt is a much maligned cartridge but it will surely kill, and this man should be dead considering the amount of his blood still staining the eastern wall.
August 17:
 Severed head of Williams found near main gate this morning, eye sockets and mouth stuffed with yellow rags. How Williams was killed outside the walls of the camp is impossible to guess. He must have left willingly, there is no way he could have been taken by force unless we have traitors among the phillipine scouts.
 August 18:
Talked with some of the boys who were close to Williams, they told me he had been sleepwalking and was found standing at the wall the last 2 nights before his murder. He proved very hard to wake and mumbled that the yellow robed man was whispering to him from from the jungle.
August 19:
 Some bastard left a yellow rag in my coffee cup this morning, I almost swallowed it. When I find the fellow behind this prank a few days locked in the tool shed should convince him this is no joking matter.
August 21:
 Dreamed of Yellow Robe whispering to me last night, couldn't understand the words but I know he wanted me to come into the jungle.
August 22:
 Sleepwalking last night, dreamed Yellow Robe was calling to me and I attempted to leave the camp. Vaguely remember fighting with Morris and 2 others when they tried to restrain me, finally came to myself when someone gave me a crack with a rifle butt. I will not end up like Williams, tonight I will handcuff myself to my cot and give the key to Morris.

(Note: Lt. Guy Linley disappeared the night of August 22, 1899. A trail of blood led from his quarters to the eastern wall of the encampment, he had apparently severed his thumb with a pen knife to free himself from handcuffs. Missing and presumed killed in action, Linley's thumb was shipped to his family and given a proper burial.)

The Cult of Yog Sothoth

 Venaa's husband was king of their people. She was not his only wife, but she was the youngest and most favored. Their people were nomads and had crossed the frozen land bridge into a place where game was plentiful. While her husband led the other men in hunting the great woolly mammoth Vanaa wandered the hilltops, studying the circles of standing stones left there by forgotten races.
 

One day the stones began to speak to her. Their strange carvings would swirl and dance telling her stories of things beyond the world she knew and when the leaves turned brown she began to feel the presence of the outer god, Yog-Sothoth. Venaa slipped away from her husband's tent at night to sleep among the stones and she became with child.
 

 At first the King and the whole tribe were delighted, "it will be another mighty son for our King" they said. The celebration was cut short when an old woman spoke, she had followed Venaa to the standing stones and there had seen the true father of Venaa's child. The old woman writhed in the dirt and howled like a mad dog when she tried to describe the thing Venaa had called Yog-Sothoth.
  

The tribe wanted to burn Venaa, but the King refused because he still favored her. Instead Venaa was cast out, banished from the tribe. She wandered back to the stones to call upon Yog-Sothoth, "What will become of me, shall the child of a god starve within me?" The ground rumbled and the sky opened up with a thick black rain. The girl praised Yog-Sothoth, for the black rain nourished her as no earthly food could. She stayed there among the stones and no harm came to her. At night the black rains fed her, she grew heavy and soon she could move only a few steps.  

  In the fullness of time Venaa gave birth, not to one son but two. Both were like unto Yog-Sothoth, but one was moreso. Venaa's days ended with their birth. As she lay among the great stones, watching the carven glyphs dance in rhythm with the thunder and lightning Yog-Sothoth devoured her spirit, and his children consumed what was left.