Entry #1
If at least one fortunate soul is reading this message, I'll know that there is some part of me that has somehow managed to reach the other side.
Just as the legend confirmed, a library was rumored to have been hidden in one of the seven corners of the world. The library seemed to have been so well concealed that many have died trying to reach it, moreover, trying to reach this strange anomaly of a book. So far, no one in the world's knowledge has been able to locate and find the library or the book. Thankfully, though, there is one person who survived, one person who somehow persevered long enough to reach the library, and one person who has lived long enough to have finally found the book.
That person is me, archeologist Edmund E. Evergreen.
As some may know, there was an underground project that started back in April of 1930, sparked by an organization whose name and whereabouts I am not allowed to disclose. The project was titled "Alexandria," which was meant to shed light on and contribute to the Library of Alexandria, which burned down in 48 B.C... To the organization, finding a library that was estimated to have centuries' worth of knowledge would be something extraordinary, and it was sure to earn them a page in history books. So, they recruited some of the Earth's finest archeologists and explorers, me being one of them, and set us on a journey overseas to each of the seven corners of the world to discover the library.
There must have been about three hundred and ninety-seven people onboard the ship before we set sail.
During our journey, we experienced many obstacles. You wouldn't believe how many people will try to keep you from finding artifacts because they were aware of things... Things no one should try and unravel.
We faced so many struggles from the unknown, and the repercussions we earned in return were more than incurable. After all, who can cure two hundred and thirty-seven deaths? However, with the few we had left and the motivations we had to make it to that place, we pressed on.
Motivations were soon proved to be a liability, however, and because of that, there must have been a total of seventy-five deaths counted when we finally reached the last corner of the world. That left about eighty-five of us to salvage all that we had left on the ship, and with that, we led the final search for the library, our hopes set on finding that book that'll promise us that moment of glory we tried to reach.
Then it came.
I don't know how to explain it, nor am I in the right mind to try and fathom what it was that I had seen, but what I do know is that whatever it was that approached us had killed roughly eighty-three members of the last remaining search team, leaving just me and my partner, who went by Wilbur D. Cromwell. With his help and astounding skills in depicting things that seemed out of place, we were finally able to discover a hidden pathway that we were certain must be the pathway to the library.
If Cromwell had just held out a little longer, maybe together, we would have finally reached the library's gates. But in the end, his body gave out, and he shortly passed due to exhaustion and starvation. I was sure I would receive death's kiss as well, but to my surprise, I made it past the gates. I wish I could say that I found everything I'd expected to see according to what the legends spoke of, but I couldn't be more wrong.
This library... It's not what it seems to be. Grand, yes, but filled with knowledge that mankind could not understand, is far from the truth. They won't understand. I've been in the archaeological field for seven years, and it’s granted I've seen many things that are questionable and have even been assigned to uncover cases too dangerous for anyone else to investigate any further.
Further inquiry was sure to guarantee my death. One thing was for certain, though: In the end, I was always knowledgeable of what I was dealing with. This library should've been one of those cases, but this time, I'm not sure if I can even begin to understand what it is I'm up against.
There are so many things to record, so many things to try and sketch out, that is, if my brain will let me process all that is seen before my very eyes. I can only hope this message will reach someone, and if it does, well, do wish me luck that I make it out of here in one piece. For now, what I can do is read the pages of this book and, hopefully, send them out where they'll be able to reach someone, somewhere, somehow...
In my opinion, for a book that's desired to be read by so many, you would at least have high hopes that it has a cover on the face of it, a title no less.
Well, if it has no title, I suppose I'll create one. Why is there a page missing?
To you, whoever finds this, let us name it "The Forbidden Book of Conundrums and Secrets." Guessing from what seems to be the first chapter of the book, I can conclude that we can begin this strange chronicle with what seems to be a short story called "The Village of Old Memories."
Without further ado, let's begin...
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