a love letter/fanfiction to HP Lovecraft. something otherworldly lands in rural arkham, forever changing the little isolated inbreded family. forever changing that point area, animals, birds, bears go through a hell binding appendices of flesh and tentacles only seen in one's twisted sick mind, the art of losing you're sanity n all we know. we are no longer, the apex predators until the the root....the screaming root driving all human and animal to insanity, assimilated creatures of another's nightmares. Mr wrinkles farm has been quarantined, removed off all maps, the family disappeared but Mr Winkle. he wasn't the same man I knew 72 hours ago. no sign of mental illness or health to suddenly snap, fold to the unknown.