Salvete, Amiculi!
As the image at left makes clear, I'm putting the brakes on Pythia Kickstarter preparation for the moment with the full intention to resume operations next spring. I feel the project needs more long-term attention than I am currently capable of giving to it, and plan to revisit the campaign for issues 1-2 with vigor in 2020.
This also means I'm putting my Prophecies of the Oracle blog posts on hold as well, as it doesn't make a lot of sense to tease a project that won't make an appearance for 9-10 months, anyway.
As the image at left makes clear, I'm putting the brakes on Pythia Kickstarter preparation for the moment with the full intention to resume operations next spring. I feel the project needs more long-term attention than I am currently capable of giving to it, and plan to revisit the campaign for issues 1-2 with vigor in 2020.
This also means I'm putting my Prophecies of the Oracle blog posts on hold as well, as it doesn't make a lot of sense to tease a project that won't make an appearance for 9-10 months, anyway.
There's life in our dear friend yet. Details soon. This is not to say I'll be idle for this next year. (Seriously, am I ever?) In fact, there is a new Amiculus project coming this fall that I will be making an announcement on later in July. I'm planning to revisit the original series one last time before moving on to new stories both within and without the world of Amiculus, a revisiting that will both expand and expound on my beloved flagship vigilante from the shadows. Part and parcel of this will be new art, a new map(!) and new story. Keep an eye out for this soon!
But I'm burying the lede here.
In response to the fantastic impact and reception that the new Amiculus Books release of the new horror comic Sugar Creek has generated, I've decided to revisit a project that I'd put on the back-burner following the cancellation of the Sugar Creek Kickstarter. This was an illustrated journal by one of the key characters, Jim Corrie, intended to accompany the comic book. This explores the backstory and history of Sugar Creek leading up to the day of horror featured in the comic. It follows his archaeological discoveries at the headwaters of the creek, his dawning horror at what is about to be unleashed, and his desperate attempts to stop it from happening. I'll be presenting this story here a series of blog posts, the the first of which is below. So, without further ado, here is the first chapter of:
In response to the fantastic impact and reception that the new Amiculus Books release of the new horror comic Sugar Creek has generated, I've decided to revisit a project that I'd put on the back-burner following the cancellation of the Sugar Creek Kickstarter. This was an illustrated journal by one of the key characters, Jim Corrie, intended to accompany the comic book. This explores the backstory and history of Sugar Creek leading up to the day of horror featured in the comic. It follows his archaeological discoveries at the headwaters of the creek, his dawning horror at what is about to be unleashed, and his desperate attempts to stop it from happening. I'll be presenting this story here a series of blog posts, the the first of which is below. So, without further ado, here is the first chapter of:
Preface:
Due to the nature and scope of the violent events in the town of Sugar Creek, Ohio on the night of September 26-27, 2015, the case rapidly escalated from a local to a state investigation. With no clear leads as to who instigated the violence or the location of any of the town's 329 residents, it is anticipated that federal authorities may be called in soon to provide additional resources.
Due to the nature and scope of the violent events in the town of Sugar Creek, Ohio on the night of September 26-27, 2015, the case rapidly escalated from a local to a state investigation. With no clear leads as to who instigated the violence or the location of any of the town's 329 residents, it is anticipated that federal authorities may be called in soon to provide additional resources.
View from the outskirts of Sugar Creek, Ohio on 9/27/2015, 7:39 a.m.
The single potentially meaningful piece of evidence produced to date only raises more questions. On October 13, 2015, the Investigation Division of the Ohio Bureau of Criminal Investigation (BCI) received a package at its main offices in London, OH. This package contained a leather-bound artist's journal belonging to Sugar Creek resident and apparent victim James Corrie, along with a letter from James's daughter Miranda Corrie. In the letter Ms. Corrie, an English and history major at The Ohio State University, states that the journal arrived in her university mailbox on September 29, with the postmark indicating it had been mailed from the Sugar Creek post office one day prior to the event. Ms. Corrie further states: "I've read the journal five times, and I still don't understand what it means." (An interview between Ms. Corrie and BCI is still pending.)
James Corrie Records from the Sugar Creek Police Department refer to Mr. Corrie as a "semi-retired history professor and amateur archaeologist." He appears in several police reports from 2014-15 for making "spurious" 911 calls to the department. In one instance, he receives a warning for disorderly conduct, stemming from a "heated and menacing confrontation" between himself and a neighbor, one William Pryor of 4460 Logan Road.
In these instances, Mr. Corrie seems increasingly frantic, desperate to warn authorities about a "coming apocalypse" that will "consume the town." He claims the town's actions relating to recent land and water developments are accelerating the catastrophe. Reports describe Mr. Corrie as "obsessed" with a local legend from the town's founding (see attached background file "Legend of Sugar Creek"). The final incident on record, a hangup 911 call from the Corrie residence, is recorded as taking place the morning of September 26.
In these instances, Mr. Corrie seems increasingly frantic, desperate to warn authorities about a "coming apocalypse" that will "consume the town." He claims the town's actions relating to recent land and water developments are accelerating the catastrophe. Reports describe Mr. Corrie as "obsessed" with a local legend from the town's founding (see attached background file "Legend of Sugar Creek"). The final incident on record, a hangup 911 call from the Corrie residence, is recorded as taking place the morning of September 26.
 A sketch from the Corrie Journal. | In his journal entries, Mr. Corrie is a self-admitted depressive; the journal begins as a prescribed outlet from his therapist, although entries continued well after Mr. Corrie ended his therapy sessions in mid-2014 (See attached psychological profile).These entries combine Mr. Corrie's thoughts with related drawings ranging from pencil sketches to vivid color images. As Mr. Corrie's fixation on the legend increases, his entries and drawings become increasingly unsettled, incorporating nightmares and apparent waking hallucinations. He lists and illustrates numerous "artifacts" unearthed from his and neighboring properties, although no sign of these have been found in Sugar Creek police custody or in the wreckage of the Corrie home. Strangely, objects that Mr. Corrie states he sent for examination at the Ohio History Connection in Columbus, OH have also disappeared, along with related images and emails. |
Below are excerpted entries from Mr. Corrie's journal, in order by date and chosen for relevance to the investigation.
June 10, 2013
This is so f_____g stupid.
(OK, better keep this clean or hide it permanently from Rachel, or she'll skin another pound of flesh off my...hide.)
So Rachel bought me this sketch journal after my last visit to the shrink that she basically demanded I go see after my forced - uh, "early retirement." It's pretty slick - this leather-clad tome with my name embossed on the cover in gold leaf or something that you'd be more likely to associate with a banker or accountant than someone who draws for a living. Just wish it didn't feel like an albatross around my neck.
I don't see what the big deal is. Anyone would be a little down from being downsized from a 20-year teaching career, being forced to move away from civilization to this bloody hamlet out in the hinterlands. Anyone would feel the dual humiliation of having to move back to a town they'd been desperate to escape from and staring down another twenty (thirty?) years of slowly turning into compost. Could always try to get another job, but I figure the prospects for a 53-year-old ex-history professor are even worse here than in the city. At least the livin' is cheap, I guess.
So anyway, my shrink (Dr. V______) said I was "brooding" too much and needed an "outlet for my thoughts," hence the journal. She recommended that I get something I could draw in, too (she caught me doodling in the margins of my brochure while I was pretending to listen to her - something that got me through a lot of department meetings). This would let me "express myself through art as well as words." (One more reason why I will never forgive Rachel for this.)
Fine. They want me to pour my heart out like a teenage girl? Illustrate my feelings with rainbows and unicorns and sad faces and storm clouds? Sure, why the f___ not? What else should I do while I rot here?
So here's my first project: the creek.
This is so f_____g stupid.
(OK, better keep this clean or hide it permanently from Rachel, or she'll skin another pound of flesh off my...hide.)
So Rachel bought me this sketch journal after my last visit to the shrink that she basically demanded I go see after my forced - uh, "early retirement." It's pretty slick - this leather-clad tome with my name embossed on the cover in gold leaf or something that you'd be more likely to associate with a banker or accountant than someone who draws for a living. Just wish it didn't feel like an albatross around my neck.
I don't see what the big deal is. Anyone would be a little down from being downsized from a 20-year teaching career, being forced to move away from civilization to this bloody hamlet out in the hinterlands. Anyone would feel the dual humiliation of having to move back to a town they'd been desperate to escape from and staring down another twenty (thirty?) years of slowly turning into compost. Could always try to get another job, but I figure the prospects for a 53-year-old ex-history professor are even worse here than in the city. At least the livin' is cheap, I guess.
So anyway, my shrink (Dr. V______) said I was "brooding" too much and needed an "outlet for my thoughts," hence the journal. She recommended that I get something I could draw in, too (she caught me doodling in the margins of my brochure while I was pretending to listen to her - something that got me through a lot of department meetings). This would let me "express myself through art as well as words." (One more reason why I will never forgive Rachel for this.)
Fine. They want me to pour my heart out like a teenage girl? Illustrate my feelings with rainbows and unicorns and sad faces and storm clouds? Sure, why the f___ not? What else should I do while I rot here?
So here's my first project: the creek.
The water from this disgusting drainage ditch flows right past our house, out of a large growth of trees that look older than anything around it for miles. Dense, too. It looks like night inside - you can't see more than a dozen feet from the tip of your nose once you're in there. Makes my skin itch just looking at it.
I don't think there's anything that quite encapsulates my feelings about this place more than this sluggish open wound of a waterway. Asking price for our house was pretty cheap as a result of it (and other reasons that I don't feel like getting into right now). It's one of the reasons I was so desperate to get away from here when I was young - all the stories and superstitions about Sugar Creek that brought out the most benighted aspects of my friends and neighbors. Our parents told us never to drink from the creek, never to play here, especially after dark. Yet it's the symbol of the town? The name? Why even build next to a place like this?
Looking at my drawing now, and I'm not impressed. Pretty piss-poor rendering, actually. You can't even get a feel for this place without the color of the water. I'll have to come out again, once I've gotten some colored pencils or something.
Jesus, am I actually getting into this? Please just kill me now.
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