July 21st, 1866
Last week, as I perused the extensive collection of texts in the university library, I came across a worn and dusty version of “Essai philosophique sur les probabilités” by Pierre-Simon Laplace with a lot of handwritten notes and equations by the previous owner of the book.
Intrigued by the potential connection to my own mathematical research, I decided to examine the contents further in the seclusion of my study. Night after night, I found myself engrossed in the complex equations and propositions laid out by Laplace. My interest was particularly piqued by the concept of Laplace’s Demon—an entity capable of predicting the future with unwavering accuracy if given sufficient knowledge of the universe. As the hours of darkness ticked by, the shadows cast upon my study seemed to shift and deepen, creating an eerie atmosphere that I could not quite shake.
In my relentless pursuit of mathematical truth, I began to notice subtle connections between Laplace’s work and my own theories on the properties of functions and the behavior of prime numbers. Inspired by the potential for discovery, I decided to attempt a synthesis of our ideas, weaving together the intricate threads of our equations in the hopes of uncovering the secrets that lay hidden within.
After weeks of tireless effort, I at last arrived at a startling conclusion—a series of equations that, when solved, would reveal the inner workings of Laplace’s Demon. My hands trembled as I transcribed the final proof, my heart heavy with both anticipation and a vague sense of dread. As I completed the final stroke of my quill, a sudden and chilling realization washed over me.
My newfound understanding of the Demon’s true nature brought with it a terrifying revelation: it was not a mere theoretical construct, but a tangible, malevolent force that had been lurking in the shadows of my study all along. As the days passed, I found myself plagued by inexplicable occurrences that defied reason—objects moving of their own accord, whispers echoing through the darkness, and nightmarish visions that haunted my every waking moment.
With each passing day, my grip on reality weakens, and I fear that the visions of my own demise will come true and I shall soon succumb to the unrelenting terror that has taken hold of my soul through a sickness of the lungs.
I have begun to carve the haunting equations into my own flesh, a bloody testament to my unraveling mind. The more I cut, the more the darkness seems to recede, as if the pain were driving away the monstrous knowledge I have unleashed. But the reprieve is fleeting, and as the last of my strength wanes, I realize the terrible truth: Laplace’s Demon is not an entity that can be controlled or understood—it is a curse, a blight on the mind that can only bring suffering and madness. In seeking the ultimate knowledge, I have opened a door to a world of unimaginable horror, and now there is no turning back.
In these final moments of lucidity, I commit my story to these pages, a desperate plea to any who may read my words: beware the seductive lure of Laplace’s Demon. Burn my belongings and any trace of my studies.
Forgive me, Elise. You were right and I hope the lord forgives me for my sins. Don’t let anyone else see my journal. Burn my belongings and any trace of my work.
Bernhard Riemann
Selasca, Italia