Boy are these things getting hard to write. (previous)
‘Yes, they’re still here!’ A bit of rummaging through the things in his room and Mitchell found the books he borrowed from the library just before he left. He recalled the bestiary mentioning enhanced weaponry and was pretty sure it was related to gemergy. Upon finding the section on wyverns he had read, however, it seemed that there was no more information on it than just that single mention. His options were far from through though, he still had a copy of “A mythological and legendary history of the caves”. It was a long shot, but if there was a mention of similar events in there then that’d be enough for him.
“When Beyer returned five days later (August 21, 1996) he came crawling. In terrible shape, due to what appeared to be internal injuries. He was coughing up blood and reported every move of his muscles felt like “painful death, over and over”. When inquired about what had happened, he stated he went there where no man should ever want to go. Beyer died (age 36) before he could describe the location of this place.”
This really wasn’t helping. Mitchell had hoped to find something positive about gemergy, something to prove its usefulness or at least a way to reduce the damage it did to the average human. But all he could find was this one “mysterious” incident which did nothing more than drive Warren’s point home. How was it poison? Mitchell was still alive, so why couldn’t others? Andrea had gotten special treatment, but they could hardly get Gerald to treat everyone. There probably wouldn’t be many people willing to play along either.
Mitchell packed up the books and went to the library again. The old lady was nowhere to be found, so Mitchell just dumped his books on the frontmost desk. ‘There’s got to be some really old tomes in here.’ He thought as he scanned the nearly unnavigable mess of books that called itself a library. It was really cliché, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to look in the dark corner in the back. Who knows, maybe he’d find an old tome back there.
And he did. A bunch of tattered, handwritten pages, bundled together by brittle leather. “Energy works for the uninitiated.”
Fuck what have I done. (next)