Object 289

The Holder of Literature

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, if there is no one there, flee the building and never return. If there is an owl, stare at it. It will fly through a wall, follow it through.

As soon as you step through, you'll be in a massive library. The ceiling is unfathomably high, as are the bookshelves. The owl will have vanished, and now a large bat is hanging in midair. Go toward that pathway, and the bat will take flight. Whatever you do, do not let it out of your sight, or your fate shall be more horrible than the collective imagination of humanity can even attempt to devise.

Eventually, you'll reach a shelf with a single thin tome, and a bat will transform into a tall, thin man in a suit. Do not look directly at him or he will rip your heart out before your eyes. Do not touch the book yet or you will be sucked into its depths, to dwell there forever as the most ghastly tales pass before your eyes. He will not respond unless you ask, "Where was it all written?" The man will vanish, now take the book.

Despite the size of the book, it weighs more than a hundred dictionaries. Open it, and millions of pages will spread forth. They will all be blank. Turn the pages until the book's sheer size is the height of a man, and then you will find a single folded-up note inside. Take it, and read it. The contents of the note, written in blood and somehow much longer than a note this size should be able to display, are so horrible that many would attempt to bludgeon themselves to death so as not to remember it. It tells of the great authors of history, both their achievements and the atrocities they committed and suffered. If you remain sane, the note will vanish. The book has now shrunk back to its initial size, and its weight is only on your soul.

The blank book is Object 289 of 2538. Never open it again until they are all as one.