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Hidden Sanctum (4)

Clara’s eyes popped on the red leather-bound book that was thicker and heavier than a normal book. There was a sign of old age, but there were no other damages. It also seemed to be well taken care of. She turned it over at a different angle to inspect and figure out anything, but nothing else—not even the name of its writer—was written other than the title itself.

She held onto it tight against her chest before she strode quickly over the table in a jumbled mess. Thrill and excitement rushed into her system as she cleared the table of strewn parchments. She fixed the candelabra in a suitable position, so it could properly cast a light on the book’s pages.

She sat on an uncomfortable squeaky old wooden chair and took a deep breath before opening the book on its first page. At first, Clara thought it was blank. She was about to turn it to the next page when words started to appear. Clara stared at it wide-eyed. Words appeared as they formed a sentence.

‘Everything in this book is a hist
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