Per 
PRELUDE:
This tome, colloquially known as "The Green Book" was found in central Massachusetts during the 19th century by excavators. Each entry is written in a cipher unique to that entry. Resulting in some, but not all, pages being translated. Additionally some words, or phrases may be left blank indicating difficultly in translation.
The contents of the book range from descriptions of folk entities, to rituals and incantations, as told by native people and colonials of Northeast America. To date, the contents of the tome have only partially been proven, as some entities having been discovered by cryptozoologists in the 19th and 20th century.
WARNING
Continue with caution.
"We looked on at the glinting blanket of fine silks blanketing our settlement. It had been but a fortnight last we looked out and saw only the benign tranquility one would expect on a midsummer's eve. And yet, in this new waning moon's twilight we were witnessing an ungodly mutation of our homes to that of the night children's abode."
Dr. Rawr: The text appears to be written with a hurried scrawl. It's possible the author was rushed in some way. The image accompanying the text is hand drawn and similar to natural phenomenon found in Australia.
"When morning came we raised from our beds to inspect the nights disruption under the light. It was then that our true horror was realized. Duncan, a great and noble man had not risen with his family. Instead the sound of curdled screams shot wildly from his home. His wife and child knelt in a panic over Duncan's body. Covered in this silken thread from head to toe. I would be displeasing our lord to claim I was not afraid while looking into the lifeless eyes of my friend. It was then that I saw the demon exiting Duncan's gaping mouth. It's flaxen body no larger than the nail of my pinky finger, being carried by several pairs of articulated appendages. And it's sullen lidless eyes reflecting the terror I could feel welling up inside my heart. The demon scurried hastily beneath the floorboards and out of my sight."
Dr. Rawr: What the author seems to be describing is a common arachnid. A yellow-bodied, eight-legged, black-eyed, arachnid. This confirms my previous note connecting this story with those told in Australia of arachnid webs stretching across fields and roads. However, the author should have no doubt recognized the webbing and the arachnid, identifying them properly rather than indicating that it was a demon leaving the body. Perhaps this was a form of poetic license.
"I made no attempt to voice my sighting with the family who was continuing to mourn their loss. Instead deciding to place a worn sheet over Duncan's head and body, reluctantly carrying him to the town's edge where the dead are laid to rest. I could not help but feel the nagging itch of a phantom passing across my skin as a stood near Duncan. After all, his demon was now on the loose. The terrible beast from the deep trenches of Satan's pit still roams free. I began to feel a deep anger rising inside me as I thought on the situation. These heretic neighbors and inciters of chaos must be to blame for this tragedy. We spoke on countless times of the importance of following our lord and yet still they did not listen. And now one of our own is dead. Dead for all time by the ignorance of faithless men. Yes, the blood is on their hands."
Dr. Rawr: "The writing and phraseology is getting more frantic. The page contains several strike throughs. Such as the word "his demon" being changed to "his my demon." It's unknown if these changes were made during the original draft, or addressed later on."
"I returned to the village still decorated with the demon's breath. I witnessed the godless ones carry on in a stupor, disposing of the silk like common rubbish. I could see in their eyes they cared not for Duncan. They cared even less for me. They gazed coldly as I passed by, lowering their heads or staring through the edge of their vision at me. Like I was some monstrosity. They knew their faults, though they could not admit them. It was approaching dusk when the townsfolk finally retired to their queer lodgings. No one came to visit me that day. Not one visit from Duncan's child or her mother. I sat quietly sipping my private store from beneath the floorboards before drifting angrily to sleep."
Dr. Rawr: "There's a strange tone shift in the writing. It's as if the author had been riling himself up during the log, growing more difficult to read. Words left out, smudges of ink (or other black substances) across the page. I'd like to note that the inference of a sexual relationship between the author and the deceased "Duncan." is very clear.
"I awoke during the night to the sound of choking death. It was moaning muffled screams, the kind you hear when children yell into their pillows during a fit of disobedience. Though these screams were more visceral. The type of screams that send chills through your core in a way you cannot deny. Still I made move to stand and venture into the horror that no doubt besieged our town. Another sound stopped me dead. A comforting word, spoken in worry, not in panic. A word heard I heard so often but never expected to hear again. It's sound cut through me like fresh forged iron on a blade of grass. The single word: Dad?
//I looked into her glassy, child like eyes and witnessed the grotesque monstrosity of my own face reflected within them. What you now read is my confession. To the events that transpired. To the untimely deaths of those who's bodies lay beneath the silk even now. To the allowance of demons to take my body and soul for their hideous game. This will be the last you hear of me. Be well. Rest knowing //
"Hello, or good morning, to whoever is reading this. I suppose that's the type of thing one says in these sorts of journals. My name is Amelia Mary-Duncan Good. My father was Arthur Aaron Good. My mother was Mary Angelica Good, formerly Mary Angelica Constance. I inform you of these things because of their importance to the events that transpired between the dates of October the 3rd, 1810, and October the 5th, 1810. I recount these events through means of my memory, claiming no fiction to be fact. But only the incident as it had been experienced through my eyes."
//""
