Dear Prof Wellington,
I do seem to remember the headlines that day. The Post Register carried a story on a spy plane shot down over china, the Lamplight Herald was carrying a story on the presidents’ latest trip to England. I had awakened at my customary hour, and was enjoying my light breakfast, not knowing what the day had in store for me.
The usual crisp fall air was tinged with acrid smell of burning pine tar, from the latest round of forest fires in the foothills. A dusky haze settled in over the city during the night. Not very comforting, if you ask me, but I have no control over mother nature. In the forefront of my mind I was going over today’s agenda, class times, scheduled appointments with students, my latest lecture notes. Being so preoccupied I failed to notice the package next to my front door. I proceeded with my day, completely oblivious to the fact I was going to be neck deep in events I couldn't comprehend come nightfall.
My day progressed uneventfully, and everything seemed normal. Upon my arrival home, I finally saw the package left at my door. I mealy assumed it had arrived during the day, and had been left by the postman because I wasn't home at the time. I studied the package, I attribute my failure to notice it had no postage affixed to it, to my distraction at the paper it came wrapped in. The paper was of a strange material, I had never seen before. Colored a deep blue, with small flecks of what appeared to be silver scattered across it in a pattern that reminded me of a picture of the milky way I had seen long ago, in some forgotten text book. I had taken a fancy to the paper, so I carefully unwrapped it and set it aside for further study. The paper revealed a strange box, intricately carved with hieroglyphs, I have to this day yet to decipher. I am unsure if it was the disturbing nature of the relief carvings on the box, pictographs of strange bipedal lizardmen, sacrificing humans to some amorphous blob, or rather the unusual smell emanating from the box that filled me a feeling of dread. I was just reaching for the lid to investigate it contents and plam,plam,plam, there was a rather abrupt knocking on my door. It was a struggle to tear myself away from the box to answer the rather insistent knocking, but I did manage it. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was hesitant to pull my eyes away from the strange box.
Peering through the peephole in my front door, revealed a tall man swathed in a full length crimson robe. His face was reminiscent of the giant statues found on Easter Island, elongated and solemn. His complexion was a ruddy brown, as if he spent his days toiling the sun. He looked up as I peered through the peep hole, almost as if he could see me. I know he couldn't have heard me approach the door, because I was in my socks, resting my feet after a hard day of tromping through the granite halls of the university. "Professor Linton, I must speak to you about a matter of some urgency." His voice boomed and echoed on my cavernous front porch. I was so startled I didn't open the door, you really can't trust anyone these days, and guys at my door at 8:30 at night, dressed in robes, doesn’t instill a feeling of well being and peace. I practically squeaked my reply, "I'm sorry I can't help you, I'm really quite busy right now. If you would like to make an appointment with my office, I can see you sometime tomorrow." I was standing at my door, eye's clamped shut, hoping beyond all hope, that he would take that rather feeble excuse and go away, when I again peered through the peephole, I was actually shocked to find the menacing stranger gone.
I turned my attention back to the box. It was right where I left it on the dining room table, I thought I left the lid closed. The lid was now standing open, and a soft golden glow emanated from the inside. Now, I'm a professor of archaeology and anthropology, not particularly religious, nor spiritual, a bit on the superstitious side now and again, so when I see a lid to a box open, that I distinctly remember not opening, I tend to get a little worried.
I had the creepy feeling there was someone in my house. I crept toward the dining room, being sure to pick up the fireplace poker on my way. I managed to keep enough of my wits to notice that whoever had opened my box, had also smoothed out the paper used to wrap it. It looked like it had been ironed, and the closer I got to it, the more it took on the appearance of a window laid flat on my table. The glow had suffused slightly letting the room dim, and making me nervous. I was slowly checking the corners of the room for anything out of the ordinary. After looking like a fool, sticking a fireplace poker into the dark corners of my dining room, but it did make me feel better. I checked the locks on the windows, now being completely freaked out be previous events.
Inside the box I was surprised to find an Ahnk, carved from what looked like black soapstone gilt along the edges in glowing gold. The surface was covered in miniscule hieroglyphics undecipherable to me. I didn't even think, to this day, I'll curse myself, but I reached in and picked it up. No gloves, nothing. I could have damaged it, I just wasn't thinking, I was mesmerized. I sat there at the table staring at the wonderful piece of, what I thought was, primitive art, when I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye. The paper which had until this time just been a curiosity, was now the focal point of my dread.
It was discordant, disjointed, not of this earth. It boiled out of the deep recesses of the primordial fear. It was as if I were looking through a window into deep space, slowly, deliberately a small cloud formed in the center of the paper. As it grew I began to make out appendages, pseudopods, tails, and tentacles. I had not definitive form, its very nature screamed at my senses that it was wrong, it didn't belong in any sane mans' visions. It came closer, I was convinced it could see me, it was looking for me. My fear was overwhelming, had I anywhere to run, I would have bolted. That's when I screamed and the world went black.
I woke up this morning in a hotel, and discovered I was brought in by a very tall man in crimson robes. The box was by my bedside. I send it you Professor Wellington, along with my story, in the hopes that you will not repeat my folly, and maybe even discover the purpose to these artifacts.
In enduring friendship,
Dr. Jebadiah Linton
Cairo Museum of Antiquities
