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Season 2 Memoirs o(f) Death, chapter: Virago (1991)
Alexander was sitting in his room when the doorbell rang. Just 18 years old and still broken by his grandfather's death, the young man snapped out of his daydream about playing a perfect game of chess. The video recordings he made that he used to watch were sitting just to the left of the chessboard. His mother was in the next room. But she was likely drunk. No way she’d heard the bell.
Slowly he went to the front door and swung it open, only to find a small package left on the mat outside. The package had been sealed away in a thick cardboard box, an obvious attempt to preserve something important.
But when Alexander opened the package, all he found was just some old book. It was an odd book with strange writings, a book so old that mold grew on the cover and the smell of the pages bowled him over. It reeked. Centuries of use had spoiled some the pages, torn more, dog-eared others.
He looked on the spine where the book’s title was visible in worn gilt letters and grinned.
This was a book he knew had never been written. Far away, on another continent and years ago, kids used to pull pranks in the library adding it to card catalogs then sending him on a wild goose chase. This was obviously a step above an index card: a well-designed joke by the same kids who had bullied him in school.
But why would someone even bother to invest so much time in designing and building a fake ancient book to pull a prank on him now? He closed the door and took the book inside, sitting back at the table. Opening the book atop the chessboard’s neatly sectioned surface, the pages fell open to a useful incantation: the one that summons me.