21st Century – London, England

This book contains various notes, stories, fables, and what seem to be pages from personal diaries belonging to different times and people.

I’ve already begun reading several records I found in this library, and the further I advance in my research, the more my body shudders.The feeling is strange. The deeper I dig, the more my curiosity awakens. I spend hours in this archive as if they were seconds; I forget everything around me and lose all sense of time.

Yesterday, when the clock struck midnight, the hands suddenly stopped on the sixth chime. I approached hesitantly, for I had never seen it working during all the time I’ve spent here. It was a classic floor clock — the kind that was fashionable among the aristocracy in the past century. Despite its age, it looked well cared for; its fine, intricate carvings made it seem like a collector’s item.

I inspected it carefully. The minute hand was missing, but I paid no great attention to that detail and simply wound it. It didn’t appear to be working, yet I could hear its inner mechanism ticking faintly. I didn’t want to neglect my research, so I returned to the records, hoping to gather more information.

My investigation had stalled. I couldn’t discover who the owners of the mysterious and peculiar book were — the one that had so completely captivated me. In my frustration, I sat down in the leather chair that presided over one of the reading tables and took a drink from my flask to ease my fatigue. As I leaned my head back to get comfortable, my gaze fell upon the golden bookmark.

I examined it closely. From the first moment, I knew it was something valuable — truly made of gold, adorned with strange engravings, and bearing a small notch in its center. I hadn’t noticed these details before, as the book itself had kept me spellbound.

I looked again at the clock and muttered aloud, “How could this be? Either this means something, or Grandfather must have been so upset about not having bookmarks that he used the minute hand instead.” I moved closer to the clock, inserted the minute hand, and adjusted it to the current time. As soon as I aligned it to twelve, the pendulum stirred again, and the remaining six chimes resounded — opening a small crack in the wall.

Terrified, I stumbled a few steps back. Then I noticed a small compartment had opened on a side of the clock’s top. Inside, I found an object wrapped in black velvet cloth.