Translation

I was able to find someone to translate Alice's discovery, and it is much more clear than the Google version. Sadly, with it translated, I only fear for Alice's psyche more. The text of the entry is disturbing enough on its own, and I know it could not have helped Alice at all to have found it.



[...] if there had been something then they would not have returned, so it was just an illusion, a phantom which their worn out heads, their poor minds, had created. Why then is it, that mine and their days are so long, so filled with fear, this because of something that does not exist?
But I feel compelled to write this down, for there are signs that He truly exists. I admit this only because we, me and the men, have had similar dreams – all unique, apart from a few details, these details that makes us walk around on edge. He has a white, empty face, completely without eyes or mouth or nose. Several meters tall. More than two. Three, four, five… sometimes ten. Sometimes with more than two arms, sometimes with what one of the men describes as “tentacles”. He always wears black clothes. But even beyond the dreams He has appeared.
To me He came with a black cylinder on his bald head. I walked on the path on my way to the village after having been on a short walk, and there He stood on the top of the hill. Even if His face were naked, I could make out that He was looking out over the forest. He had noticed me, but it took a while before He would give me a look (I have just described how He doesn’t have any eyes, but how else am I supposed to describe it…?), and when He finally did it I had enough time to wish that He had continued to stare out over the forest as I fell backwards while the world grew dark. All the while I heard a ringing in my ear.
Soon enough I awoke in my home. My uncle had come walking down the road – I never asked him if he had seen the same man on the hill, he does not know anything about this, and I will keep him and as many others as possible away from this – when he saw me lie unconscious on the gravel. He said that he had inspected me, to make sure that I hadn’t been hurt, but according to him I was as fit as a fiddle. I gave him a bad excuse, said that I had worked too much recently, and he bought it.
But not everyone have the same luck as I. One of us have lost his life, two are gone. Before they disappeared, Erik began to slowly loose his ability to write and instead began to write down codes, and above all else he preferred to communicate through Morse code. He wrote down the codes or knocked in whatever he had to knock on. I still remember what he said one day when I sat in the outhouse. “The trees are coming, the trees are coming, trees, trees, they are coming, trees are coming.” He kept on like this for several minutes, and I had to hurry up in order to stop him from hitting the wall and bloodying his fist.
Karl tells me that the codes are the only way in which they can communicate in. I wondered why, and he said that they had gone mad. I understand that, we all understand that.
Yet I am confused.