The Apothecary Diaries Chapter 1 소설 & 이야기

Cold. I pressed my hand over my mouth to muffle a cough from the thick air. Carefully stepping back, my heel hit something. A shelf. A loud thud hit the floor behind me. “Damn it…” I muttered under my breath, fumbling to pull out my phone. I turned on the flashlight and aimed it toward the object. It was a book. Old. Worn. A diary. I bent down and picked it up. The name on the first page stopped my breath cold.

I drove up the winding path, the headlights cutting through the thick fog like blades. The house was dark, silent, and smelling of old pine and neglected history. I stepped inside, the click of my heels echoing off the stone floors. I didn't turn on the lights. I didn't want to be a target. I moved through the shadows, heading straight for the library. I needed to see what was on the SD card. I needed to know the full extent of the rot. I opened my laptop, my fingers trembling as I slotted the card in. A single folder appeared: THE APOTHEOSIS PROTOCOL.

“Are you?” “Any doctor would be.” Sylvia smirked. She preferred types like him—they don’t pry. “Heh. It’s hard to tell without an introduction.” The doctor gave up and sighed. He swept his hair back with a hand and smiled. “You may call me Loomis. I run this humble apothecary.” “Nice to meet you, Loomis. I’m Sylvia.” “So I’ve heard.” Loomis opened the drawer on the bedside table and took out a couple of items—a small round tin and pills on a piece of cloth wide enough to hold them.

When you hunted apex predators, knowledge was the only equalizer. But something about this collection felt... off. It wasn’t tactical. It was frantic. I shifted a stack of papers. Beneath them lay medical journals about viral transmission. Ancient texts on the transition process. This wasn’t just studying the enemy. She was studying the Change. A thick, leather-bound book sat open near the edge of the desk, an anime-themed bookmark keeping the page. I picked it up, the leather cold in my hand. A tight, sickening knot formed in the pit of my stomach as I read the chapter heading in bold, archaic script.

She looked away, her silence speaking volumes. Disgusted by both mother and daughter, I got up and headed upstairs to my study. I went to the drawer where Diana said the journal was hidden. I reached forward, pulling it open. Inside were neatly arranged documents. I stared at them for a moment, wondering what was in there, and began to read. I hadn't even finished the first page when my stomach churned with disgust. She had highlighted the places for me to read, and my eyes scanned through one passage: I’ve been taking the wolf's bane in small doses, just enough to endure Asher. He started touching me more, and it is the most irritating feeling ever.

She put her hand on the back of my head and gently rubs my head. "shh, it's okay. Take a deep breath and try to explain to me exactly what happened okay?" She says trying to comfort me. My eyes are burning from the salty tears and my head is spinning in panic but I try to calm down and explain everything to her. I tell her about last night. I tell her about the mirror and the eyes and the forest and the girl who looked just like me. I tell her I couldn't control my body. I try to convince her it wasn't my fault. I tell her about the safe and the box unlocking when only she knew the combination and the spell to disarm the box. I tell her everything.

“Why in the world was I even caught up into this mess?” I was surprised I was talking to myself but it would seem I was not done yet as I even added, “Now I even ended up becoming an apothecary luna.” with a disheartened sigh in the end. The scent of dried herbs filled the room as I leaned over the small table, meticulously measuring ingredients with trembling hands. The steady rhythm of my mortar and pestle grinding roots into a fine powder was the only sound, a therapeutic contrast to the chaos in my mind.

I am part of this world. The Archivist smiled. "Welcome." The sun rose over the Academy's towers, turning the stone to gold, and the silver flowers pulsed with a light that held the dawn. The story was not over. The story was just beginning. End of Chapter 87

Her smile looked like it hurt. The closet came next. Her clothes were still arranged by color, by season. Heels lined up like a fashion show. Then I saw a shoebox, taped shut with yellowing masking tape. I hurried to open it and inside were old prescriptions, anxiety meds sleep aids. Then painkillers. The kind doctors stop prescribing when things get too dark. And then... the diary. Black leather. Worn edges. Her name is engraved inside the cover like a brand. I hesitated, then flipped it open. I skipped the later entries. I already knew how the illness crept in.

“Choked on air.” Aislen smirked. Their turn came and the receptionist looked up expectantly as they leaned over the counter. “Baby Book?” “There’s a book?” Aislen blinked. “I have a book,” Heath said, frowning. “About babies.” “The one your GP gives you,” the receptionist was patient. “Your GP did give you a Baby Book didn’t they?” Aislen shook her head. The receptionist nodded wearily and reached under the desk producing a blue diary. “This your first appointment?” She asked opening the diary.