September 15, 1984 - Miskatonic University, Arkham

61

I’ve been having a reeeeeaaaal good time the past few days.

After some… less than successful attempts at intelligence gathering, I decided to visit Miskatonic University. From what I’ve heard, their library has practically everything in it, so maybe I could find out what this revolution of the old gods Grendel talked about is.

So there I was in Orne Library. Felt like I hadn’t left the place in days. Went through book after book, and at times it looked like I was about to uncover an answer, only for it to become a dead end. Whenever an author started to seem like they were going somewhere about these old gods, they’d suddenly trial off onto a different subject.

Then, as I’m nose deep in another tome, I hear someone say, “I-330?” I hadn’t introduced myself to anyone since coming here, so the fact someone knew me was a surprise. Looked up from the book, and I saw a dark haired man standing by my table.

“It’s me! Peter! Peter Walsh!”

Oh. Wow. Last time I saw him, he was middle aged. And being shot. “It’s been… a while!” From my perspective, at least. I had no idea how long it had been from his. “You’re looking good.” It’s true. He really, really was looking good.

“You should have told me you were coming to Miskatonic! How long have you been staying here?”

“Um… You know, there aren’t any windows by this part of the library, so I haven’t been able to keep track of how many times the sun’s gone down….”

From there we talked about my research, what I was looking for and the lack of real success. Peter snapped his fingers and said, “I think I might be able to help you with that. Follow me.”

He began to lead me to the back of the library, as I subtly tried to figure out the temporal shenanigans without letting on that any temporal shenanigans existed. From what I got, the last time he saw me was when he was a kid, and I stopped by Miskatonic to meet with his grandfather. Since I haven’t met his grandfather, and since he asked what happened to my eyepatch (he accepted “I got better” as an excuse,) I’m assuming that was a future me. We reached the door, hidden in an alcove between shelves. The door had the label, “Archive Offices Room 3” on it. Through the door, and into the dusty room. Old books covered the walls and floors in neatly stacked rows, with such density that it was nearly impossible to walk through. I guess the university here is a bit of a hoarder when it comes to books. A girl was asleep at her desk behind the organized mess. Peter coughed, and she stirred awake.

“Huh… Peter….” She practically jumped out of the chair. “Oh god did I fall asleep again?”

Peter chuckled, clearly familiar with the scenario. “Morning, Sarah. We just need the key to the inner archive room.”

“We?” She looked at me and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.

“I’m I-330.” That got the usual disbelieving expression. “I’m a friend.”

Was that a hint of jealousy I saw flash in her eyes? Whether it was or not, she was all smiles as she handed Peter a keyring. And… two flashlights?

Had to navigate the maze of books again to reach another door. Peter unlocked the door, and opened it to reveal a dark room beyond. So I guess that’s the reason for the flashlights, but… “Why aren’t there lights in there?”

“We’ve never been able to get the electrical wiring to work in this part of the library. Every few years someone in maintenance tries to fix them, and they’ll work for a few days, only for it all to suddenly short out again.”

Alright that isn’t suspicious in the slightest. Flashlights it was, then.

If the previous room had been an organized mess, this one was just a mess. Looked like someone had decided to play 52 card pickup with books, and had given up partway through. And nearly every step we took created a cloud of dust that resulted in coughing fits.

Except for the center of the room. There were no scattered books there. There was just a single book, laying atop a podium and held down by chains. The book’s cover was completely black, but when I pointed my flashlight at it and saw it, I felt a jolt run through my body. Like the weirdest déjà vu ever. It sounds completely insane, but I felt as though the book was calling for me.

Peter undid the lock on the chains and carefully pulled them away. Once they were gone, I brushed my hand across the cover. I had thought it was leather, but it didn’t feel like leather. It didn’t feel like anything. Even as I pressed my hand against the cover, I felt no sensation of touch.

Started to pick up the book, and Peter said, “No-” but stopped once I’d opened it up.

“What?”

“You’re… um… not supposed to be able to pick it up with your bare hands. Not without going completely insane, at least.”

Well that was an interesting fact that would have been helpful earlier. “Well I don’t feel any more insane than usual.”

“Yeah… maybe those warnings were wrong about it….” He reached forward, but pulled his hand back the moment the fingers touched the book. Smoke was rising from those fingers, and I could see burns where they had touched. “Jesus! How are you holding that?”

“Guess I’m just awesome. What is this book, anyway?”

“The Necronomicon. Written by Abdul Alhazred. The last copy of it in the world. It should contain everything you need to know, but… I don’t think anyone’s managed to read the whole thing.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s… a weird book. You’ll see what I mean as you get into it.”

Weird or not, this was what I needed. Now the only question was finding some place where I could stay at while I read this. Raised the issue with Peter, and he said, “Well, I know some friends who have spare rooms you may be able to use… and there’s several hotels in the city of Arkham, if you’ve got money for them….”

“What about where you’re living?”

“My apartment? I’ve only got one bed, but I could let you have that while I sleep on the couch-”

“One bed is fine.” Followed by a wink and a nudge.

If he’d had a drink, he would have spit it out. Instead he just started stammering and blushing furiously. I think there was a yes somewhere in those stammers. At least I hope there was, because as soon as I was able to get directions out of him, I practically dragged him back to his apartment and had my way with him. Sorry Peter. But college you is hot and I’ve been spending the last several days cut off from human interaction, cooped up in a library surrounded by books.

Which brings me to my present status quo. Study the Necronomicon while Peter’s at class, and lots of sex when he’s back. This is the sort of life I could get used to. Don’t know how long Petercan keep it up, but he’s got to decide: What’s more important, studying and sleep, or me? No, no need for him to answer that, I already answered it for him.

I-330