Thurston's hands shook as he carefully opened the mysterious package. Inside, he found a collection of items that would change his life forever. There was this weird clay thing, like a bas-relief, covered in the strangest symbols you've ever seen. Just looking at it gave me the creeps.He spread everything out on his desk, trying to make sense of it all. That's when he noticed this word kept popping up everywhere: Cthulhu. It was scribbled in the margins, circled in red ink, and showed up in pretty much every note. And get this - there were all these references to a "Cthulhu Cult" scattered throughout the papers.Thurston couldn't shake this feeling in his gut. The way his great-uncle had suddenly died, and now all this weird stuff. it was like he'd stumbled onto something big. Something dangerous. He took a deep breath and decided to dig deeper.His living room turned into something out of a detective movie. Papers everywhere, covering every surface. Old newspaper clippings that were yellow and crumbly, interviews with people who sounded scared out of their minds, and notes his great-uncle had been taking for decades.As Thurston worked, his curiosity started turning into this gnawing feeling in his stomach. The more he dug, the more he realized just how big this thing was. It wasn't just some local ghost story or urban legend. This Cthulhu business was happening all over the world.With shaky hands, Thurston started putting together a timeline. It was like watching a horror movie in slow motion, seeing how his great-uncle got more and more obsessed with this cult and whatever god-thing they worshipped.Night fell, but Thurston barely noticed. His brain was going a million miles an hour, each new thing he discovered more mind-bending than the last. Sleep? Forget about it.As the clock struck midnight, Thurston found himself staring at that creepy clay bas-relief. In the dim light, those weird symbols seemed to move and twist. He couldn't shake this feeling that he was standing on the edge of a huge, dark pit. What was waiting for him at the bottom?The weight of all this new knowledge felt like it was physically pushing down on him. Thurston realized his life was never going to be the same. It was like someone had pulled back a curtain, showing him a world full of ancient horrors and cosmic terrors that he couldn't even begin to understand. As the sun started to come up, casting long shadows across his messy study, Thurston knew this was just the beginning.Just as Thurston was about to call it a night, his eyes landed on a name scribbled in the corner of one of the papers. Henry Anthony Wilcox. Something about that name nagged at him, like it was important somehow. He made a mental note to look into it later. Little did he know, this seemingly random name would lead him down an even darker path, one that started back in February 1925.