Jamesport, Rhode Island, 1895 …
Listen carefully. You may hear whispers of the city’s mysteries just below the howling of the wind through the rafters of the abandoned fish market. Odd creatures serve a witch in the haunted salt marshes. Sigils of ancient and forgotten magic mark the cliff overlooking the bay. A ruined stone tower of unknown age stands in the square. Do not speak too loudly of these mysteries, lest the Old God send his servants to silence you.
Fear Jacob, the most loyal and gifted of these assassins. He has killed many, from babbling ex-sailors who uncovered too many secrets in dark and faraway lands, to millionaires’ wives who summer in mansions on the cliff and wander one step too far into the occult.
History is a lie.
The world is not what we think it is.
And, it is all about to come crashing to an end.