Dr. Mason Wyckersham
1838 - ?
To say that Mason Wyckersham was a "mad doctor", while rooted firmly in the realm of fact, would be gross understatement akin to proclaiming that the shark that bit you mercilessly in half, had "lots of teeth".
Wyckersham possessed a sort of contained madness, a subverted distortion, that he would not surrender to completely until his status in the medical profession had reached such a glorious capstone that, at first, his wild speculations and bizarre theories were greeted with the unbridled enthusiasm of the entire scientific community. He was dashing, intelligent, the picture of all that was envied. Wyckersham's operation theater and lecture hall had become not only the forefront of operative discovery, but the very hub of fashionable society. Slowly, this was to change.
The foundations of his observations began to warp and crack. More and more he would shun sleep and the companionship of his peers for the cold slab of the operation room. The public abandoned his lectures as his theoretical processes ran into the macabre. Rumors spread of body snatching, alchemy, and self-admistered surgical procedures.
When those closest to him made one final, desperate attempt to intervene, he said simply, "The veil has been removed. I have seen the face of the Great Faun amongst the branches of the bower. This cannot be undone."
Dr. Mason Wychersham locked himself away behind the high stone walls of Machen Manor House. There, his crazed, frenzied stumblings into the darkness of creation took on a ghastly reality. It was there that Wyckersham submitted himself, finally, to the absolute torture of his own grotesque intellect.
Yes he was mad, mad as the moon, but his hideous genius would change everything.