Work Text:
(Click)
[Pearl]
Letter by I. Skall, regarding a wooden box, and a game. Letter original dated October 15, 1985. Audio recording by Pearl S. Moon, Head Archivist of Star Institute.
Letter begins.
[Pearl (Statement)]
Dear, whoever reads this,
For a long time, I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go after my days at the game store would conclude. Many times I would think that I would never leave and that I would forever stay at that place. Sometimes I thought it might be better to find a different job, just to change it up a bit.
But one of my biggest goals I have recently realised was to create a game.
Ever since I kept that box I got from the bus stop, I’ve had this idea. It sounds strange at first but it's absolutely perfect. The game is simple; you are part of a world and you have to provide for yourself. You break trees, gather materials, and explore the world. You follow a path of quest that leads you through the game, like an overarching storyline, and you complete challenges.
At first, I didn’t know how I wanted to create this idea. To make it a reality. I didn’t know if I wanted it to be a tabletop game, or something you play on those fancy computers. I just wasn’t sure. I had an idea, something that could one day become something that children play.
As I got myself more shifts in the store to stay away from that stupid box. A box I had found at a bus stop during the wildest of storms. It had been one of the worst choices I have probably made as it drove me insane. It just kept speaking to me. I know that sounds insane, but believe me, it speaks. This game was the one thing keeping me from falling into insanity.
One of the biggest things in the game was the fact you would have to entire these ‘vaults’ to progress through the game. The vaults would have certain goals you would have to complete to finish them. The higher you got in the game, the harder the vault would get. There’s so much more to the game, but that's really the basics of it.
Eventually, the idea drove me mad. If I wasn’t home around that stupid box, I would be stuck with the game. Neither side was better than the other, but flooding my head with other noises seemed to dilute everything else.
I was always on the edge of losing it as time went on. I started to search for the music festivals and any place that was loud enough to cover that sound. I got more jobs and started working almost 14 hours a day, doing whatever I could to just get rid of the noise. I knew it wasn't healthy but anything to keep that noise away. I stopped meeting people and continued forcing myself to find something to throw myself into. I even started to write.
I wrote notebook-filled pages of whatever those ideas wanted. I wrote words about my life and things that seem meaningless now but got rid of any other thoughts. I wrote letters, most of which I’ve now burned away not wanting to deal with what I have written. I burned most things that don't seem meaningful now. I tried burning that stupid box, but it seemed impossible. It never seems to get bashed up.
I want this to end. I feel like I’m never here anymore. I’ve been told I’m becoming a great employee, and that I could get a promotion soon. It’s all becoming meaningless. I’ve not been around anyone I know in weeks.
I know this is going to burn soon so I might as well write this here. I know-
[Pearl]
The letter ends there. I was reviewing the file containing the statement and thought it might as well be good to document this. Most of the letter is charred as even reading it feels choppy and I know much is probably missing.
The letter is dated a few days before I. Skall, or Iskall as I’ve been saying these last few days, went missing. We can assume that the letter might have been burnt but survived. However, it is hard to say what happens as even information on anything dealing with this letter is sparse. From what I know, this letter was left behind when the original statements were written. So it is easy to say that this must have been forgotten.
(Shuffling)
The original statement does not mention writing or letters, nor the spiral of insanity that can be seen in the letter. It’s hard to state why, but the mixture of emotions leaves much up to guess. Any journals mentioned in the letter either are destroyed or are in too bad of a condition to properly read.
The change in mood does intrigue me, but this letter doesn't prove much, making it seem sort of meaningless with no other letter surviving this mentioned burning.
Recording ends.
(Click)