Journal: After the cathedral within a church.
My mind is caught by a song. One as old as dust on a child's toy left in the attic. Despite my best efforts to continue with my routines, I find myself tossing aside book and book in this destitute library. How many journals I set before the mad and insane, forcing them to write while their brains mired in hallucinations.
The few worthy books offer nothing as well. No touch upon the images I witnessed. And yet Geraldo seemed to have truths in his own. Damn him. Damn them all for knowing. But I must put aside the anger and seek the chill truth. I am young and need a better resource.
Sumerian. Mesopotamian. An area I have not studied at length. Of if they but wandered from Italy! Then I would have such a wealth of knowledge! I believe I shall visit the university. Certainly something lies there for these pages? These rituals?
And yet...why not just return? Seek that spiral staircase? I never feared before, why should I now? The mystery lies within the twisting of a ritual. The nituku or what ever it was. Would this presence seek Victor now? Was it the blood it required, or the mind within? The dreams? The others never ponder such intricacies.
I will return. Soon.
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