The sun begins to stream in through the East windows of the loft.  Dominik has been awake all night in deep thought about the symbol, trying to correlate the information with something familiar.  A dim patch of light just above his head moves slowly across the wall, the room getting brighter by the second.  The time is 6:57am.  Dominik gets up and makes coffee, drip coffee as there’s no time for espresso.  He removes his clothes as he walks to the shower.  It takes just under three minutes to shower, another activity Dominik detests.  He likes being clean but doesn’t like having the time taken away from him.  This is a particular issue with Dominik, the passing of time.  He’s obsessed with time, that is passes, how it’s used, and that he use his efficiently.  He grabs a fresh pair of underwear and a shirt, walks back to the kitchen picking up his clothes along the way.  He puts on yesterday’s pants and hoodie, and fills a large thermos with coffee.  He’s rushing as fast as he can without spilling or forgetting anything, as if he knows he’s late for something even though he really has nowhere to go and no schedule to keep.  He packs his sketch and notes in his backpack and heads out the door.  Just before closing the door he turns and looks at the box on the dining room table.

He thinks about hiding it, putting it somewhere “safe”.  But for what?  His apartment is safe, it’s not like anyone knows he has this thing.  No one except Jack.  He wonders if Jack would try to steal it back to make a little extra money, but Jack doesn’t know where Dominik lives.  Dominik begins to think that Jack could have had someone follow him yesterday, to find out where he lives.  Dominik methodically runs through several scenarios in his head then decided it’s not worth changing things.  There’s no real risk in leaving this thing out while he’s gone.  He closes the door, engages the lock and heads out to catch the #6 Jackson Express to get to the University.  He catches the El to the Loop and along the way does some people watching.  Seeing all the professionals in suits rushing to get Starbucks then to work makes him think about his life.  Could that be him?  It fills him with guilt since he is always grateful that he doesn’t have to work but the only reason that’s true is due to the death of his parents.

Even though he has ten cups worth of coffee in the thermos in his backpack he waits in line at Starbucks for a drink with everyone else.  Dominik is an introvert but ironically not antisocial.  He likes being around people, being part of a crowd.  But for him there’s a slight sense of detachment almost like he’s “playing grown up” as he does what others do.  He stands in line thinking to himself “I wonder what everyone else is thinking while they stand in line, waiting for coffee, checking their phones and watches.  Do they look forward to getting coffee here every morning or just come here because that’s what people do?”  He wonders what they might think of him, do they know what he has sitting at home on his dining room table.  He also likes the barista at this particular Starbucks and looks forward to seeing and talking to her.  The line moves, Dominik getting closer and closer to the counter.  Yuppie after yuppie peeling away in the same direction like snacks dropping out of a vending machine, looking at their phone in one hand and balancing a coffee, a small bag of food and a purse or briefcase in the other hand.  This makes Dominik think about the irony of evolution.  “Look at what we can do with one hand and an opposable thumb.  It’s truly amazing.  Yet all that mechanics, and control, and a brain the size of a melon and everyone is unaware of how amazing their thumb is.  They don’t deserve their thumbs since they don’t even appreciate them.”  And now his thoughts are interrupted.

“Hey, Dominik, how are you?”

“Good, thanks.  I’ll have a venti black eye with an extra shot and one point five inches of room.”

Jenifer, the barista laughs.  “You’re weird, and the inch and half will have to be an approximation, we can’t put a ruler in the cup.  It’s unsanitary.”

Dominik smiles and blushes a little.  He doesn’t mind being teased about his strange tendencies.  He likes the attention from Jenifer.  “I know, that’s okay.  It’s the perfect combination of coffee and espresso.  You know, from a flavor perspective.”

“Well you’re usually not here during the rush hour.  It’s really busy.”

“I know.  I have to get to the library today so I’m out early.  I’ve never seen so many suits.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy for like two hours straight then all of the sudden dead.  Well I wish we could talk but there’s a line.  You can get your drink over there.”  Jenifer points to the other side of the espresso bar where a long line of people are waiting for special drinks and a variety of breakfast sandwiches.  Because Dominik ordered a black eye he won’t have to wait his turn.  They usually sneak a few leftover shots from other espresso drink orders being made and fill the rest with coffee.  This amuses Dominik as he knows all the suits will get angry that this punk will get out before them.

Another barista yells.  “Drink for Dominik, black eye with engineering specs attached.”

Dominik gets his drink to a variety of giggles and groans from the rest of the crowd.  He raises his cup to Jenifer as he leaves.

Now to catch the 6.  The express won’t be that crowded at this time.  Dominik finds a seat and quietly drinks his black eye as the bus takes him to campus.

It’s early October and students at U of C are already neurotic about midterms.  Leaves have fallen and Halloween is close enough for everyone to be excited about planning parties and outings to the local haunted houses.  It’s another beautiful day, not as cold as yesterday.  Too warm to be inside but too cold to hang out outside all day.  Yet large groups of students are outside on the quad, trying to enjoy the last few moments of outdoor weather before winter really sets in.  Pretending it’s warm enough to hang out, but shivering in their grey college sweatshirts wiping drips of mucus from their noses.  With any luck there might be an Indian summer, but they’ve predicating an early brutal winter this year.  Dominik walks straight across the quad to the library, trying not to be noticed.  There are several professors in the Anthropology and Divinity departments whose expertise is the Occult so Dominik knows there are a lot of resources there for research.  Right now he’s not too concerned about the deficits in his occult library but he wants to read through a few of the old and obscure news reports related to the book and some of its owners.  This is the mythos surrounding the book.  Folk tales that Dominik hates but could yield some useful facts if the reporter did their job.  He enters the main library and immediately the clerk at the desk recognizes him.  This recognition Dominik doesn’t mind.  Berta is a stereotypical librarian and she reminds Dominik of his mother.

“Oh!  Dominik, what a surprise.  I thought you would be out all year.”

“Yeah, I am but I wanted to come and study.  You know so I don’t forget everything for next year.”

“Don’t be silly, you’re so smart.  You won’t forget what you know, it’s like riding a bike.”

Dominik smiles and muses to himself how ironic it is that he never learned to ride a bike.

“I know but you can’t be too prepared.”

“What are you studying?  Can I help you find anything?”

“I’m looking for old newspaper articles on unexplained phenomena.  Murders, disappearances, anything related to unsolved crimes or mysteries related to cults or ritual abuse.”

“Oh, creepy.  Most things are on line now.  You could probably do that from home.  But I’m so glad to see you.  People don’t come to the library as much these days.”  Berta comes out from behind the desk as she talks, walking over to the computers at the center of the library.  She logs on and shows Dominik the web browser for searching newspaper articles.

“You see here we have an interface that will gather all journal or news articles with related search words, so you don’t have to look through all the junk that comes with it.”

“Cool, thanks Berta.  But could you also show me where the micro film archives are?  I have a feeling that I may need to look there too.”

“Oh sure.  The microfilm archives are in the basement.  Do you need help with the machines?”

“I’ve used one before but I’ll come up and get you if I need help.”

“Oh, okay.  Well you be good.  I hope your knee feels better.  Everyone missed you at the first track meet this fall.”

Dominik goes downstairs.  The archives are massive and he likes paper and older media.  He’s not a technophobe at all, but he’s so high energy internally that the act of flipping through a book is relaxing.  It forces his mind to slow down and relax, to think more deeply about one topic.  As he looks around for a place to set up his things a cold wave passes over his body as he notices that the file cabinets are laid out in a familiar pattern, like rays emanating from a common point.  Like the black and red stripes in Jack’s book store and more like the pattern in the first symbol in the book he’s researching.  He smiles and dismisses the sensation.  This is clearly a coincidence, and the fact that his mind went there is just a sign that his subconscious is working on the problem.  He finds a desk with a microfilm reader and removes his laptop, notepad and sketch from his backpack.  He’s not allowed to drink coffee down here but sneaks a cup full while no one is around.  He knows of one story surrounding this book, an incident that was in the news a few years ago as part of a special report on cold cases.  Hearing about that incident is what made him interested in acquiring a copy of it.  After connecting to the university internet through his laptop he Googles the following.

 

Occult, Massachusetts, Mass Murder, Sullivan

 

The first hit is an article from the Salem Gazette circa 1987.

 

Bodies Found in Basement of Salem Bookstore

On September 27th 1987 Salem police, responding to complaints from local parents, raided the Black Arts book store on Essex Street.

Login to continue reading…

 

He’s found it and now locates the microfilm for the 1987 Salam Gazette.  Dominik returns to his desk and sets up the microfilm cartridge.  He positions his notebook right in front of him, between his body and the microfilm machine.  He scrolls through and finds the complete article.

 

Bodies Found in Basement of Salem Bookstore

On September 27th 1987 Salem police, responding to complaints from local parents, raided the Black Arts book store on Essex Street.  Based on reports of lascivious behavior directed at local high school and middle school students by proprietor Jimmy Sullivan police obtained a search warrant for the premises expecting to find evidence implicating Mr. Sullivan in the acts of luring minors, child abuse, and sexual misconduct involving minors.  Police entered the book store at 7:30am after a failed attempt to locate Mr. Sullivan at his residence.  Upon entering police quickly began confiscating evidence.  Among the items were…

 

Impatient, Dominik begins to scroll and look for key words.

 

…basement.  There police expected to find evidence of child pornography but were unprepared for the horror in the basement.  The main room appeared to be a ritual chamber, almost resembling the layout of a church with archaic symbols painted on the floor.  While searching this room police discovered a false wall which covered a mass grave.  Forty seven bodies were exhumed from the book store…

 

As fascinating as this is Dominik scrolls faster and faster.  This seems like junk journalism, designed to appeal to the base perverted instincts of the readers.  Dominik thinks to himself “why is it that everyone loves reading about serial killers and rapists?  Ah, here is a key paragraph.”

 

The book, held as evidence in the case, is being sequestered by the FBI to support a national case in ritual abuse and cult activity.  Harvard professor Edward H. Armistead commented on the book for the Gazette.  “This appears to be one of several original handmade copies of an early medieval text on pagan magic.  Based on historical accounts of this text there were twelve original copies made in Vasconia circa 600 AD.  We have never been able to obtain a copy for research so very little is known about it except through writings that mention it in passing, many of which are fictional writings.  We are very excited at the prospect of providing assistance to local and federal authorities towards a complete forensic analysis of the text.”  When asked to comment on the contents of the book Professor Armistead had this to say.  “Well anything I could say would be speculative.  But it is believed that each page contains a talisman that, when replicated, will evoke a particular spiritual force.  Each talisman has a particular purpose but since there is no text accompanying the pictures no one could possibly know just what these forces are intended to do.  Perhaps only the initiated are able to use the text to their advantage.”  Access to the text is held up while a court decides whether to leave it in the hands of local police or have it given to the FBI.

Book store owner, Jimmy Sullivan, is still at large and authorities are urging anyone with information to contact local police immediately.  Mr. Sullivan is to be considered armed and dangerous.

James R. Hannagan

 

Dominik writes down everything of interest.  He has the name of the author of the article, the name of the professor interviewed, an ethnic region, Vasconia, a small country between Spain and France right on the Western coast, and an approximate era, 600 AD.  This is a lot to start with.  Still nothing about the symbols themselves.  But if he can locate someone who knows about this case he might be able to get somewhere.

Satisfied with the work of the day Dominik packs up and prepares to go back home.  From there he can start to track down sources of information.  1987 is a while ago and there is a chance that Hannagan and Armistead are retired or even deceased.  He rushes upstairs to say goodbye to Berta but she isn’t there, probably busy helping a student.  On his way back across the quad Dominik is recognized by a couple friends.  One of them, Sanjay, calls out to Dominik.

“Hey!  Dom.  Wow, are you back at school now?”

“No, I just stopped by to use the library.  I’m still recovering from this knee injury.”

“Man that sucks.  Is it better at least.”

“Well, good enough to walk and get around but no, not really.  I have physical therapy like three or four times a week so that keeps me out of school.”

“But you probably have really good pain meds?”

“No, nothing like that.  Just ibuprofen and a little oxy.  I don’t like taking that stuff, it makes my mind cloudy.”

“Give it to us, man.  We’ll take it.”

“No, come on, I can’t do that.”

“Fine, fine, whatever man.  Hey some of us are getting together tonight to see Decapitated at the Aragon.  You coming.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know they were playing.  Do you have tickets?”

“Yeah we picked ‘em up last week.  I’m sure they’re not sold out.  Try to get some and give me a call if you can’t, I’m sure we can find some somewhere.”

“Cool, will do.  I’d love to see them.  Who all’s going?”

“Me and Dave here, Tom, Katie and Amy.”

“Well I gotta’ get going but thanks.  This is cool, it will take my mind off my knee and being behind a year.”

“Hey bring the oxy with.”

Dominik smiles, smirks and says “we’ll see you later, but don’t count on it, get your own.”

Dominik leaves and heads for the bus.  He’s excited about Decapitated and thoughts of his research have leapt right out of his mind.