Not a single day passed by without me feeling that I was being watched. After all, my curiosity became my demise. Whenever the unexplainable occurred, there I was, caught in a cycle of terrible incidents. It all began when I went to visit my dear friend Dr. Veenle. What I found at his house was utterly frightening and it seemed that there was no safe place from this madness. Nothing could ever make me think about the events that followed thereafter, for these memories shall remain deeply buried and banished from my consciousness.
One month before the incident, Dr. Veenle and I met for coffee at his favorite coffee shop half an hour away from the university. It was early morning. The atmosphere in the room was calm and the smell of strong coffee filled the room/the air. He was a notorious archaeologist and made many discoveries and contributions to his field that awarded him many distinctions upon his years of research. His vast knowledge of the ancient world and his drive for knowledge never ceased to amaze me.
That particular morning, his tone of voice and expressions conjured how obsessed he was with his new journey. “I’m looking forward to this trip.” He said gravely and called out for even more coffee. Apparently, one of his long-time colleagues made an important discovery at a digging site in South America. It appeared that they conjured him for his expertise. He then showed me a vague picture of what seemed to be stele with what looked to be undecipherable symbols on it. I quickly commented on what those inscriptions might say, but he brushed me off and urged me to notice the craftsmanship that gave life to this piece of antiquity. We then followed with how work was progressing and vowed as scientists to never stop questioning and continued on the pursuit of knowledge. Dr. Veenle left a few days later on his trip. I continued doing my research and teaching as I had been doing for years now.
One day after a late lecture, I was on my way to my office. The aisle was bare, and my footsteps were echoes traveling a never-ending tunnel. I heard my name being uttered with such familiarity that I intuitively knew who was coming down from the staircase. Dr. Veenle and I sat in my office as he recollected his trip from South America. He produced his leather covered journal from his front pocket and quickly wrote something inside it. He then glanced at the door and touched his ears and shielded his nose. I remembered cleaning up my office before my second lecture during the afternoon. I kept flowers on my windows to avoid situations like these. I did not want my friend to think of me as negligent. Although, I thought this was bizarre from him, for I was fairly accustomed to his various mannerisms. But these new ones did not register with me.
“I’ve got something to show you.” He said. His excitement was obvious. I nodded to him. He unzipped his brown bag and reached for a black piece of clothing. He put it on his lap and sighed as if the weight was unbearable to him. Maybe it might have been the case, but it sure did not seem like it. Through my stomach, I felt the urge to leave the room. Whatever it was that he wanted to show me I did not to see it. Deep down I already knew what it was. When he pulled the piece of clothing apart, I was proven right. There rested the stele encrypted with strange symbols on his lap. The sight of it left me dizzy by trying to make out the various symbols that seemed to overlap each other in an aggressive nature. “Isn’t it beautiful?” He muttered, almost talking to himself. I glanced at my watch, and it was almost 11 O’clock. He noticed and asked me if I had more work that needed to be done. “Yes, unfortunately,” I replied. He carefully wrapped the stele and put it inside his bag. “I will call with more news once I begin to decipher what is written on it.” He left urgently without saying more. “Be careful.” I told him, but I was certain that he had not heard me. My desk was a mess. I gathered all my energy to reorganize it, but I decided that I liked it that way. I put on my coat and locked the door behind me.
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