Oh Father

Yours Faithfully, John York

June 20th, 1903

Dear Sir or Madam,

If you are reading this, then certainly, I am dead.

It is with greatest regrets that I must put this on a piece of parchment, but it must be so. Terrible things are coming - things no one could have predicted, a world that will be thrown into utter chaos. The book enclosed must never be opened, or you will unleash the fury of the gods; a mistake so terrible that I must advise you against it.

Now, now, I’m getting ahead of myself. But you must simply know as such: the Schroeders are back. Their influence is coming into power, I can see it everywhere I walk; these fine streets are being filled with muck and have no one to clean them up. An evil is around the corner, and evil that I know almost nothing of. It is my duty to protect, to preserve, and all the Shroeders wish to do is destroy and burn.

They want this book. They want to release the gods from their chambers using the spell inside these words, and I know not if there will be someone who can save the world from a peril as such. Horrible things will happen, I can tell you, millions of people will die and it shall be on your shoulders, something you can never forgive yourself for.

I am one of the few people alive now that has it in their blood to know how to protect. Who is loyal and who will fight to the very end, who has a passion for books undoubtedly so - and I am also the protector of the world, holding this dangerous book with shaking hands as if it were a time bomb, tick-tick-ticking away until it blows up.

You may never understand what any of this means, and you may never need to understand what this means, but as soon as this book is unburied, all hell will break loose. It is the binding that keeps together the gods that you, yes you, have forgotten; the ones who made this earth for you to crawl on. Their graves are broken down with the beginning of our home, crumbled and hidden beneath the surface.

I am being so confusing, am I not? Yes, well I suppose I am - how else do I explain what people believe me crazy for? In short, Mother and Father - the creators of this earth, wish to return home, but I cannot allow that. The dead cannot become the living. This book, this simple little book, binds them and the remnants of their family, the gods, from coming back. They will create havoc, they will take pleasure in setting us alight and watching the flame burn.

The Schroeders wish to egg this on. They are a terrible family, and I thought my grandfather put out their fire, but they are back. I can feel it in the air, I can feel the destruction to come, and it will be a heavy price to pay. They must be defeated, they must, they must. They must be defeated. They must be brought to justice. And with this book hidden, everything is safe.

But if there is the chance that this is found, bury it six feet under, never let it see the light of day. My family, the archaics, they will keep it safe for generations. It is our responsibility. We used to be simple librarians, back at the birth of the earth, people who wrote scrolls and organized them. And then we were trusted with the ancient book that keeps everyone safe.

The reddish liquid at the end of book? Yes, that is blood. My blood, their blood. It does not matter. It is part of the spell. Do not wash it away, do not attempt to taint it, or you will be our demise. I am so repetitive, are I not? I wish to get the point across; the point of life or death. It is very important that this stays sealed by definition. Not even a peek.

There is not enough time on these grounds. I have sent my wife and children away, because the Schroeders are coming for me, I know it. But I also know - and hope - that my family is safe in America, where there is an unlikely chance they will be discovered. It is for the best. It is for their lives, is it not?

It is for everyone’s lives.

Yours faithfully,

John York