Cornelius Morrow

Dead since 1952. Still writing. Cornelius Morrow was steel money, three mills and a shipping concern, the kind of industrialist who built things because building things was what powerful men did. He built the Manor in 1936 and sat on the city council for two terms. Then he started noticing that his factory workers had "lucky streaks" and "cursed runs" that followed the sports calendar, and he did what industrialists do: he tried to map the pattern. Forty-seven journals, written between 1948 and 1952, trace his descent from curious scientist to terrified prophet. The handwriting gets more erratic by the month. The final entry says the city is alive, that it's been alive this whole time, and that it's very, very angry. He was found dead by a milk deliveryman. Heart failure. The journals were sealed in a hidden room for seventy years, and when Gus opened them, fresh ink appeared on the last page in handwriting that wasn't Morrow's: "Find me." The dead man's books are still taking dictation.