SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET.
Books are meant to bring happiness to those who read them. They instil positive emotions within us- it’s a way for us to escape reality and bring us into an everlasting dreamland of our choice. But I never thought it was possible for a book to destroy my reality.
It was like the store was inviting me in. The weathered façade of the building bore the scars of countless seasons, its bricks, once vibrant red, had faded to a somber, weather-beaten hue. Its large display windows, their glass somewhat clouded with age, held a mesmerizing collage of dusty leather-bound books, their titles obscured by years of neglect.
Immediately, I twisted the brass knob of the heavy wooden door as I stepped inside. I was met with the sounds of the creaky tiled floor and the faint scent of aging paper with weathered wood that seemed to linger like a ghostly embrace.
There were many distinct types of books inside the shop. But there seemed to be one that was calling my name.
It sat alone on a dusty, forgotten shelf in the dimly lit corner of the bookstore. Its leather-bound cover, once opulent and embossed with intricate patterns, had lost its luster over the centuries, leaving it faded and worn.
As I approached the book, I noticed that it was slightly larger and thicker than the others on the shelf, as if it contained knowledge and secrets beyond the imagination. The pages, yellowed and brittle, seemed to beckon with an eerie, almost sinister charm. In the dim light, the cover of the book stood out to me. There was no name, only the faded colours of the book and a picture that seemed to represent a goat.
The sensation of an unseen presence emanated from the book, as if it were a sentient being, yearning for its secrets to be unraveled. The air around it seemed charged with an ominous energy, making the hairs on my neck stand on end. The book’s pages, when I dared to thumb through them, rustled with a foreboding whisper, as if the words held within were pleading to be released.
As I carefully opened the book, I was met with the phrase “SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET.” on the very first page. I mumbled it out loud to myself, pursing my lips. Out of curiosity, I flipped through the other pages only to be met with nothing. It was all empty except for the very first page.
I did not think anything of this. It was strange but I decided to carry on and look at the other books that the store had to offer.
It had been a few days since that incident had happened. I found myself getting lesser sleep than usual- causing me to skip school for a couple of days. Everything was so draining.
My hair started to fall out in clumps and my skin had gotten unusually paler; it seemed to have lost its vitality. My eyes took on a haunted, sunken appearance. Everything about me was so different- it was as if I wasn’t me anymore. Even speaking had become harder for me, it was difficult for me to express myself. It became tougher for me to carry on, fatigue would always be present and simple tasks felt like monumental efforts.
I decided that all of this was abnormal, and I googled my symptoms. To my surprise, I came across a girl’s blog where she had experienced the exact same things as me. I immediately contacted her to get more information.
She told me that she had been cursed and asked me if I stumbled upon anything unusual within these past few days. The thought of that strange book had crossed my mind and I told her about it. She explained to me that the only way to stop this was to pass the curse on. However, I couldn’t seem to remember the phrase that I had read.
I knew that I had to visit the bookstore again and I went there as fast as I could. Out of breath, I looked at the employee with desperateness plastered all over my face.
“Excuse me, is there a book that seems to be abnormally large and has a goat on the cover? The pages are all empty except for the first.” I rambled.
“No, I’m sorry.” She replied in confusion.
It couldn’t be.
“You have to check the CCTV; I was here a week ago.” I swallowed, looking at her.
She checked the cameras and I saw myself in front of the shelf.
But I had nothing in my hand. My gestures made it seem like I was flipping through book pages- like I was supposed to be. I remember holding that book, but the cameras showed otherwise.
I don’t know where that book is, and I don’t know how much longer I have left to live. My body has become weaker and I’m struggling to even write this. It’s too late for me.
SANGUIS TUUS LUMEN MEUM EXSTINGUET.