Awakening, Part 1

Madness is a blessing in disguise?

***

Some time ago - it must have been around six months at this point - I was called to an incIdent that looked to be fairly routine. A young man, no more than 25, was found laying on the sidewalk by an apartment complex in a bloody mess, almost certaiNly having thrown himself out the window. No one had even noticed the man until the morning I was called, so the incident must have taken place in the dead of night. From there, however, what should have been a fairly standard procedure turned into the most bizarre of cases that, I fear, has posed a very real tHreat to my physical and mental health.
The man in question was, essentially, nobody. It seemed as though no one had ever known or even heard of him - no friends, no family, no employer. Even stranger, though, was that no one could figure out who he even was. Nothing was found, on his person or in hIs apartment, that could offer some suggestion to his identity, and with nobody to contact to identify the body, my colleagues and I found ourSelves completely blind. His apartment offered no help, either, offering no kinds of documents or any kind of communication with the outside world. However, even though the entire building had been searcHed from top to bottom without revealing any kind of information, I found myself inexplicably drawn to the dresser in his bedroom, as if something was calling me. I desperately wish it hadn't been so. In the tOp drawer, I found a small scrap of paper containing nothing but an address. Perhaps it could have been of use, but I felt that it would end up being of no importance.
So, naturally, a week later (which would make it just two weeks before this writing), I made my way to this location to see what I could gather about the victim. The address led me to a perfectly normal-looking meeting hall, which I naturally assUmed was where he had met as part of some organization. Nothing at all seemed to be out of place, and certainly no significant information came from this voyage. However, I did learn from one of the ownerS the nature of one of the groups that met at this place. It seemed that they were one of those bizarre old-timey religions - some would go as far as to call them a cult - that believed in some number of great bEings too horrible for mankind to understand. At the time, it seemed like nothing more than nonsense, but I felt strangely drAwn to this knowledge, and became incredibly eager to learn more.
Soon after, around three months before this writing, the resulTs of the young man's autopsy returned. EveRything seemed consistent with suicide by falling, save for the deep gash in his chest surrounded by what appeared to be rituaL markings. The young man's connection to the cult I had learned about became clear, and I set mYself to learning what I could. I was compElled to return to the meeting hall, the spot of the victim's deatH, to try and meet with one of the mmbers, looking for answers as to who this young man was and the meaning of the markings. Although He is too horrible to understand, I pursued this knowledge anyway, and drew myself even further into the madness...