Black Box: Book Three

47 ~ Infected Town (Part Eight)

Things are crazy here. Blake is in the hospital, quarantined and injured. Heather and I are holed up in the hotel. I don't know what else to do. I'm so, so sorry I got anyone into this. It's all I can do to keep posting here to tell you what's going on. I have a feeling whatever this is doesn't want its secrets public knowledge, so at least it feels like I'm doing somethingto fight it. I'm losing hope.

A lot has happened since I last posted, but, as always, we'll keep it chronological.

The door in the tunnel opened into a small chamber, an intimate space but finely decorated. The stone walls were carved with intricate symbols, like none I've ever seen before. Runes, maybe, but I don't think they're Norse. I can't describe them. They made my head hurt.

Tapestries hung on three of four walls between stone pillars, each depicting a different scene from what I assume was the same story. The one on the left showed an androgynous person with long hair, sitting on the ground, head in his or her hands in despair. Behind the person stood a thin, solid black figure with no features, hands on his/her shoulders. It would have looked like a comforting guardian or angel if it wasn't so unnerving. At the bottom was the word "Electum" in those fancy medieval style letters. Latin again?

The second tapestry, across the chamber from the door, depicted that same androgynous person, only (s)he was split vertically down the middle. The other half was replaced with the shadow figure. Two halves to a whole. The hybrid creature had its arms outstretched, tendrils of darkness spiraling from the hands. Seemingly holy light shone down on it from above. The caption here was "Iunctum."

The last tapestry was to the right. It showed a crowd of people from behind, all on their knees, bowing to the black figure. The figure in the background was much larger than any of its worshippers in the foreground, and again the heavenly light beamed down on it. The word was "Elatum."

The gist of the last tapestry was easy to discern. The spread of this sickness, the masses on their knees. Donec totum impleat orbem. Until it fills the whole world.

The other two weren't so clear. Who was the person in despair? Did the half person-half shadow creature imply taking someone over, or was it a partnership? Was this something that had already come to pass or more of a prophecy? No way to tell at the time.

Blake didn't even pause to look at the pictures. As soon as the door was open, he strode over to the record player in the corner that was blasting "You Are My Sunshine." With one rough motion he shoved the entire thing off the side table it sat on and let it smash against the floor. The song cut out with the scream of the needle against vinyl. Blake stared at it for a second, then brought a heavy, steel-toed boot down on the player. Wood and metal crunched beneath his foot. He picked up the record from the rubble, a 1939 single of "You Are My Sunshine" by the Pine Ridge Boys, and snapped it neatly in half. I nodded. I was sick of it, too.

Other than the tapestries and the record player, the chamber only held a podium at its center. Two lit white candles stood on it, on either side of a black leather bound book.

"Notice anything weird about this place?" Blake asked. I almost laughed but I was too stressed out.

"Other than the fact that it's the inner sanctum of some kind of fucking cult? Oh, and the fucking candles are lit."

"There's no mold down here," he said. "Not in the tunnel, either." I hadn't noticed that. I wondered what it meant.

The leather cover of the book we found on the podium is branded with the Hadwell family crest, the same one all over the school and on the door to this chamber. Inside, the yellowed pages are set with dense type. They smell musty, with a hint of cigar smoke. It's a short book - only 138 pages. The writing style is flowery, akin to a bible. I think that's what it is, this cult's book of scripture.