and again to extract an ever more terrible revenge. It is a never ending circle of pain and terror which serves only to feed the parasitic monster in the deep.

And when we finally drop from total exhaustion, the thing rebuilds us. Legs and arms that were hacked off wriggle across the deck to rejoin their torso. Putrid organs slither to their bodies and plop into gaping red wounds. Heads that were torn off crawl with a wet, sucking sound until they find and mate with their deathless corpse. It is a hideous parade, this unholy mobile menagerie of human building blocks.

The thing controls our bodies like puppets, but it leaves us some part of our minds. Otherwise it could not feed off our feelings and emotions. So it leaves us the revulsion, the terror, the madness, and the pain. Always the pain. Always that great red hot sheet of blinding pain. Maddening pain! Every wound hurts. And goes on hurting! And the awful thing sucks it in greedily. And wants more. Always more. Ever lasting pain for immortal humans. Until the end of time. Or until someday God may look down upon us, decided we have been in hell long enough, and grant us peace. The merciful gift of a cool, quiet death.

The sun is going down now. Soon it will begin all over again. I will be a butchering monster and will myself be butchered. Only to rise up again forever. I suffer to please my master, the slowly awakening thing in the deep dark. It takes a long time to wake up from a four billion year sleep. But when it does, may God have mercy on us all.

I pray that this logbook is found. If it is, then I beg of you who find it, do not bother searching for us. We will float forever on the Sea of Lost Souls. We are beyond your help. But I beg of you, get out! Get out of the Bermuda Triangle! And stay out!

For it is hell.