The library of the school was quite big, nevertheless, like every library, it lacked real possibilities to be alone in a place which, besides being quiet, was also secluded. There were special rooms though, study rooms, but usually they were were occupied by groups of students cramming for upcoming exams together.

The keyword in this case was timing. The library stayed open quite long, and in later hours, when most girls were rather somewhere else, only the bookworms stayed, if they didn't already borrow all the books they were interested in. The best time was usually around seven in the evening, the study rooms were cleared of disturbing presences, but there was still time enough to poke around in the library, in the hope to find one literary treasure or the other. Given the scent of old books and the emptyness between the bookshelves it felt practically like gravedigging.

"Awww math classes are so boring" Suichi thought as yawning in her room. She wanted to sleep but she wasnt sleepy at all, just bored.
"I need a good book to read", she thought while looking at a Cleopatra's history book, she had already finished reading it a couple of days ago and didn't have another one.
She heard that the pool was on maintenance so she couldnt swim either, and suddenly she remembered that the library was open until late hours. Suichi looked at her watch "18:30"
"I think i can make it in time to get my hands on a good book after a good bath"

At 19:15 Suichi was entering the library, refreshed from the bath, she loved summer nights because she could walk around with just her one piece swimsuit some jeans that resalted her well curved body and sandals. The upper part of the swimsuit covered enough of her skin to be still inside the 'standards of casual clothing'.

"OK lets start the book hunting" Suichi thought while heading to the history zone.

Suichi found some interesting titles, but after reading the synopsis she just looked for another one. After 20 minutes of search, the girl found a quite old book "The Diary of Margarete Heuss". It didnt have any synopsis on, but it was a diary. Of all kind of books Suichi had read, diaries usually expressed the best point of view from historical events. "Of what year could it be?" she thought not seeing any clue on that.
"Well, lets take a chance on it". Suichi grabbed the book and looked for a solitary place where she can read peacefully, task that was easy enough. Given the time most of the students were already at their dorms. She just saw 2 students that were already packing up their books and notebooks, ready to leave. She had found her place.

No synopsis, no categorization stickers on the back. Just the SHS emblem imprinted on the back already to prevent theft. The same held for the stack where she got it from. They haven't been categorized yet...These books were newcomers!. Given the variety of subjects represented in the stack, they were probably stemming from a donation or, judged by the apparent age of the books, a legacy.

Suichi found a good place to stay in one of study chambers. It was quiet, there was the possibility to shut the door (which by habitus meant, that it was occupied by a student or student group eager to learn, preferably without disturbance), and it had a comfy couch.

The book in her hand showed a rather new binding, brown leather with yellow letters, though it seemed not to be the original one. The paper is older than the cover, Suichi recognized, and there were smoke residues on the paper rims too. Probably the reason why the book needed a new cover after all. And there was a small piece of plastic, the upper side of a small preservation bag, barely visible at first, which protruded from the book.
Opening the cover, the small translucent bag with an old piece of newspaper in it,fell from the book and almost vanished under the couch. Given the distance and the lighting conditions, Suichi could barely decipher the Headline "Female archaeologist tries to burn family", as something else caught her attention. There was a sentence written on the inner cover.

"Please... do not read this book"

Which was a little less of a surprise really. More modern sentences were usually formed like "Read this diary, and i will rip your head off" but essentially they meant the same. Don't poke in my private stuff or else...

Though... somehow... this felt a little more like a warning about the content, than about the owner.

The book was indeed interesting, at least by its cover. The headline Suichi caught a glimpse of, surprised a little, “why was that in the book?”. But the thought quickly vanished as the paper went under the coach. She tried to pick it up but it had gone out of reach, and the coach was quite heavy to lift. “I hope no one notes it”. The small worry made her forget about the message she just read for the moment.
The book in itself didn’t seem to be too long, about 90 pages. This was quite small for a diary, but maybe it only had the more relevant days Suichi thought. Her personal record was to read a 250 pages book in half a day. It was during a flight. If the book was interesting enough she could finish it that night.
Suichi was shocked by the warning message of the book, it was weird, it felt weird, but nevertheless the girl proceeded to the next pages, induced by the her curious instinct.

20. May 1915

Dear diary, i feel as if the world lies in my hand. I am on my way downwards the nile together with my fiancé, and we are on the way to a dig. Besides , we somewhat fled the english society after the war broke out, for german women are not welcome accepted as part of the english High Society easily in the moment, as if they were ever. Fortunately John... Lord Hayworth... and me didn't quite care, and i love him so much for it. I wouldn't, and for that matter couldn't, have left him at home though, because at least 10% of the dig has been financed by private hand, and the hand had been that of John. Still i am relieved that he rejected the invitation of Ernest...Ernest Shackleton, a friend and quite some warhorse, yet also a little rascal, to accompany him on his tour through the Antarctis. As i have heard the contact to the Endurance had been lost for a few month now, and they believe it was crushed by the ice. Though i am pretty sure Ernest will make it, i would not be quite so sure about John. But i won't tell him.


27. May 1915

Dear diary, it had been a week since i started you, but the time had been quite eventful, and there was always something else to do, something more important for that matter. I decided to let you be the only one besides John to know about the little crime i commited, even though i do not feel about it as a crime. During my time in the ruins, i found a little stone plate with strange encarvings, which i immediately recognized as not fitting quite into the time period we were researching here. I saw these encarvings before in the works of professor Friedrichs friend, professor Jorgensen, who had been working at the university of Kopenhagen, before he withdrew from society. Pursueing Atlantis theories and the like he had been an oddball, but he had made quite some progress on deciphering the scripture which i recognized immediately on the stone plate. He never succeeded in deciphering the whole scripture and language structure though, and became rather reclusive in the later years, before he vanished completely from the stage of international archaeology.
The most important part of the stone plate are the proto-egyptian hieroglyphes, which form the lower part. Given the little knowledge i have about the scripture, i argue that they are describing the same text, turning this plate into something according to the rosetta stone in its importance. Alas i am a young and female archaeologist, part of this dig through connections, so to say, and i knew that, if i would have told Dr. James Harvey, who was the leader of the dig, i would have faced the same problems as always. Although my name would have stood on the resulting papers, behind Dr. James Harvey of course, but before the et.al., the discovery would have been atrributed to him. And like that it would have been stolen from me. The mind of females was not made for research. It overheats too easily... i count myself lucky that at least my future husband does not believe in this nonsense. So i am planning to decipher the scripture fully, and then publish the results all on my own. I told no one about the plate besides John and of course we had an argument about it. But in order not to let me overheat, John finally approved, and even supported me in removing the plate stealthily from the site, by showing "sudden interest" in the works of Dr Harvey. I am so vibrant right now.


The first conclusive part of the text ends here. It is followed by diagrams, crossed out assumptions, reference to other material which Suichi has not at hand. Obviously Margarete Heuss abused her "diary" as sort of a notebook, but without the right material, the notes posed an insolvable riddle in themselves. Sometimes there is a sentence like "Falscher Ansatz" which is German for "wrong approach" or "Hat Jorgensen sich geirrt?" which was "Has Jorgenson been wrong?". It goes on for several pages like this, before there seems to be a new part of conclusive text.

Suichi was amazed by the book. Margarete was an archeologist! The pony tailed girl would read the book to the end, no matter what. Maybe she could take a break to eat something later, but as for now, she would only keep reading.

17. June 1917
Dear diary, i am sorry that i abused you as a scratchbook, but you know how it is, there is an idea, you have to write it down, and there is no paper ready, so you take what you have. But besides the nonsense you are scattered with, I didn't write because i always had more "important" things on my mind. At least i was believing this. And now i am coming back to you, for i am alone.
John enlisted. He had enough contacts to higher authorities in the house of lords to prevent conscription, but he enlisted nevertheless, and it was my fault.
I tried so hard to decipher the plate, allowed it to become a center of my life, a role that should have belonged to my future husband alone. Yes... we didn't marry yet. We wanted, but i told him that i wanted to finish the transscription first, that i wanted the world to take note of me, that i was not quite ready to become a lady and mother, something which would have been expected. He was a lord after all. He understood and accepted, even if it was propably the first little crack in our relationship. Two years have passed, and what started as a task became an obsession. And now John is gone, he said he would return, and hoped that i would have made up my mind. It was an act of defiance. A theatralic "I would rather die in the war, than simply abandon you"... but it didn't miss its target. My heart is bleeding.
And is it worth it? I don't know. My research, which based on the few publications Jorgenson wrote on the subject, has led me astray i guess. The scripture and the materials Jorgenson used to decipher it are said to be cursed. There were so many superstitions i had to overcome, so much nonsense in secondary and tertiary material that i just can't find a real anchor for an approach. I would have wanted to talk to Jorgenson, but he is a missing person from another country, and the world is at war.

19. December 1917

John is back, he is ill, and he lost his left arm. I, for my part, lost my avocation. I made up my mind. I would lay the work at the transcription to rest, and care for him until he is on his feet again. And if he still wants me, then i would marry him. Fortunately Ernest and Emily are a big help (Yes... Ernest is back. He returned from the antarctic last year, and, with some valiant effort, saved his whole crew which was stranded there on Elephant Island. He is a hero now, the overall story is absolutely amazing. But i feel a change in him. He is not quite the person that left).

24. March 1918

John is still sick, but i found a hint about the whereabouts of Jorgensen. I won't leave my fiancé though (he has begun to wear the new ring i bought him, the other one lies somewhere in German soil, together with his arm).

12. May 1918

John is slowly getting better, and i told him that i wanted to visit Germany, and see what is left of the country i stem from. He accepted, and June, a friend of Emily and me, promised to have an eye on him. It was a lie though. I found Jorgensen, he is living in a small cottage in the north of denmark now. I know i said that i would give up the transcription, but i just can't. But if this visit does not carry the fruits i am hoping for, i will give the plate to a museum and become a housewive.

30. May 1918

I killed a man. It was self defense, but nevertheless... i rammed the knife up his chest and therefore he died. I am still shocked. I arrived at the small, old and rotten cottage, which was built just a few yards from the north sea shore. There was light in the window, so i knocked, and an old man opened. His eyes were weird, unsteady... as if something was haunting him. I knew pictures so i recognized him as Jorgensen, but i asked nevertheless. "Are you Jorgensen?" and he answered with a grumpy nod. We sat down in the living room which was reeking of old man. We talked. I showed him results, and he asked questions, which i readily answered. He didn't talk much, just listened and then Jorgensen stood up, went to the kitchen with the excuse that he had to get something to drink, and came back with the knife. He didn't even try to hide his intentions. We fought, I kicked it out of his hand, managed to get it first, and then...
Then i murdered a human being.
I still remember his gaze, calm now, as if i freed him somehow, and his last words, which he coughed into my face with his strong danish accent: "Don't... To say means to know".
I waited in the cottage until darkness fell, sitting in the corner, basically unable to think about anything than my crime. Then i made a decision. I couldn't go to the police. Even if they believed my story, which was arguable, they would nevertheless hold me here. And John didn't know that i was in Denmark. So i just took Jorgensens spade and buried him like a dog. He wouldn't be found soon, i argued, he was living the life of a hermit. And when they found him, i would have been long gone. I thought all this. Like a murderer.
Even worse, i also did it, because i feared that the danish police would just secure all his posessions, and they were the only clues that remained for solving the riddle of my life. I searched the house, turned it upside down, and finally i found something. There were notes he never published, another plate... I took everything, and left. Given the mess, the police will think that burglars killed him. I feel so dirty now.

The next pages of the diary, though fewer than before, were again scattered by notes. "Iceland?... but this can't be". and "`How should they have known that". "Dear god..." was used thrice. Impossible is a word which Margarete seemed to become fond of, for on the next few pages she used it quite often. Again Diagrams, even calculations. One could spend quite some time, trying to understand the thoughts of the writer, and even get the impression to succeed, just to be taken of the rails on the next page.

Looking at this stuff for a time, one could become quite hungry.

As Suichi saw that the next pages were readable text again, she decided to take a break to get something to eat.
While on the cafe eating a sandwich, Suichi was recalling what she had already read about Margarete's life... it has been quite a hard one she thought.
Suichi admired Margarete already at the begining just for being an archeologist but now also for her strength to overcome all those situations. The pony tailed girl wished to be like her one day, but she girl wouldn't know until she finishes reading the book. In addition to the central theme of the diary, she took several mental notes about the reactions of people involved in the war.

After 10 minutes Suichi was on the library again, ready to finish the book without stop, even if it takes her the whole night.

7 June 1919

I finished my work at the translation last week but, alas, i am too late. A french linguist and mathematician, Jean Dubourg, trasscribed the alphabet and language already last year. There is nothing i could add. He used early contracts and their copies in proto egyptian scripture, which had been found together. I had so much on my mind over the last months, with John still recovering from a relapse, that i failed to notice his publications.
But i wouldn't have published either. In the last year i worked through Jorgensons Legacy, and what started out as a professional transcription work, slowly drew me in. Probably it is due to the fact that i couldn't talk to John about it, he had always been a support, but i didn't tell him that i was still working on the transcription.
I don't want to lose him.
Nevertheless. I am a sane being, and i consider myself lucky to be of an analytical mind... yet... what i read in Jorgensons journals, slowly, but inevitably, put me off the rails. His works had led him around around the globe, indicating that he was at least sane enough to avoid confrontations. But the journals about his sources seem to quell from the mind of a madman. Until you read closer.
There was no reason for him to lie, for usually your journals are a well kept secret (even more so in his case), and only your publications reach the public eye. This sounds like a cliché now but... Some of the things i read couldn't be explained by the rules we think that govern our world. There were Sources which knew things they couldn't know. Things Jorgenson couldn't believe at first either. Dreams were involved, and ... nightmares, and digs that, i can't believe i am writing this, proved them. Four years ago i would have had a good laugh, burned the papers, and threw the messenger who brought them out of my house, scolding him for wasting my time. This time has long gone. I will write down the transcription here, were only i can see it. But i won't publish. Now, after Dubourgs work, there would be no gain in it either.

Transcription:
... there is. To speak their four names is to become their gate and their consort in evil. Doomed are those who speak them. They are

Ashhoth, The messenger
Nuiglaiss, The enslaver
Hesthoor, The tormentor
Dachuor, the Taker.

They lie waiting behind the garden of the foreign gods, and when the time has come, they will devour them. Yet behold, not to speak their names, for he who does, becomes their priest and slave eternally. Ai Ashhoth! Messenger of dark desires! Ai Nuiglaiss! Enslaver of dreams! Ai Heshthoor! Tormentor of souls! Ai Dachuor! Taker of the mortal zest!
Now we are yours.

I am a little ashamed to admit it but... i did not dare to speak the names. I was scared. Last time i felt this way was, when Aunt Stefanie told me bedtime stories. I never called the boogeyman thrice either.

At least i am free now, and can live my life again. I will marry John next month, and i am happy to live on without scattering my mind with scary strories and strange transcriptions any further.

8. June 1919

I had a nightmare tonight, if this word is sufficient for describing what i dreamt. If i dreamt it... it felt so real. But it was a nightmare. It has to be. Trying to recall it i feel sickened and disturbed, and i recall every minute of it. Don't you usually forget your nightmares?. I am sorry dear diary that i started this entry. I won't finish it. I Can't. i fear the description alone will make your paper rot. As i woke up, nude and with an aching body, i found myself lying in Hyde park. Thats 20 Minutes from our home. Did i sleepwalk? How can this be? I want to talk to John about it, but the details of my dreams are just too... I don't want him to think i am perverse. I will stop this entry now and cry.

4. July 1919
Tomorrow John will marry me. I am still suffering nightmares, but they come and go. Probably my nightmares are just an indicator of my subconsciousness that i am about to change my entire life. But i am happy. I really am. Tomorrow i will become Margarete Hayworth nee Heuss. And i am happy.

7. July 1919
Yesterday was the most terrible day of my life. It was my wedding night, I slept with John, but there was no blood on the bedsheet. We promised to preserve ourselves for each other, and i really did. I never slept with another man in my entire life. How can this be? John was furious. He wanted to know to whom i gave my maidenhood. I tried to convince him that i was faithful. It took almost till afternoon, until he wasn't maddened so badly anymore, and was finally listening. I asked him to consult a doctor, even though I felt so embarassed about it.
John spoke freely, but i couldn't stand the docors gaze.I didn't say anything... i felt ashamed. The doctor told us about childhood injuries, traumas or other things which could have damaged my virginity. That having no "hymen" did not necessarily mean that i wasn't still a virgin. He convinced John. He didn't convice me though. I didn't want my mind to walk that path, but there were other, more terryfying posibilties. But they can't be.

I am so afraid right now. What is happening to me?



This is where Margaretes hand writing starts to change. Suichi would note it. Her script got shaky and assymetric, barely noticeable now, but getting worse over the next pages.
Looking out of the Window, Suichi would also note that fog was coming up which was odd for a summer like this, though not impossible. Nevertheless it should have been too warm for fog. At least it was in the little study room which she occupied. In fact it was so warm that she was sweating.

"Could it be all the stress Margarete had, was taking its toll on her?, i think her sanity have been touched with the investigation" Suichi decided to be careful with ancient scripts on her future life as an archeologist. Too bad she didn't do that this time, as she had read all the transcriptions mentioned on the diary already.
"Oh my, why is it getting so hot?" Suichi looked at the her watch, and it was almost midnight, even though it's summer it shouldn't be that hot. She thought about calling the administrator to ask him if there was a problem with the air cooling system of the library, but she remembered seeing her leave about an hour ago. And there was that thick fog forming outside, she wasn't too familiar with the instalations, and returning to her room in that condition would be dangerous. She decided to wait and see what happens.

Standing there, in front of the window, several ideas other than a broken air-con would come to Suichis mind. At second sight at least the fog didn't seem to originate from broken vents. It was coming from the woods, slowly crawling towards the school building, getting denser every minute, blurring the trees and the full moon, which hung in the sky like a big, ever watchful eye.
Nevertheless it was indeniably hot in here, Suichis jeans were sticking to her legs already. Well she had been in the small study-room for quite some time now, the doors had been shut to avoid disturbance, just like the windows, and there had been up to no noticable air circulation in the room. It was already getting muggy in here, and the school had a quite good isolation. Ergo...it was getting warm... well nothing spectacular so far.
But the refreshing coolness of the night was just a few inches away and was symbolized by small amounts of water, which were condensing in the dusty air of a formerly hot summers day. The only thing that kept it outside was the window, which was still shut.
Thinking about it more, it would appear much stranger to Suichi now that the librarian didn't check for her. Having been here quite a few times till closing time, she knew from fact that he was inspecting every study room at least once before shutting the library. But obviously he did forget her, because opening the door she would notice that the lights were out, and the library was lying in darkness silently. It would stay this way, because unfortunately, but unsurprisingly too, no one ever showed her the light switches of the library.

Suichi decided to stop reading for a moment, and take a look around the library, as she left the room where she was reading, Suichi noticed that the rest of the library was in complete darkness. “And I thought it was unsafe to walk back to the dorms, it would be also unsafe to walk around here in this darkness… but… whatever, what can happen in here?” And she headed to the main hall, walking along the wall, also trying to find the light’s switches.
The library itself was quite big, in the first floor there was the librarian’s office along with the reception desk at the entrance, and to the left, the stairs that leaded to the second floor. The first floor was just rows and rows of books; it is as big as a soccer field, and it is there where all the literature is kept. The second floor is exclusive for studying with several independent rooms, Suichi was on the opposite side of the stairs. She could see inside each of the other rooms, since they were vaguely illuminated by the moonlight. Unfortunately that dim light could not reach the halls of the library, as well as one particular room.
The third room Suichi passed by was completely dark. The girl tried to enter to check if there was a curtain or something blocking the window, but it was locked. Then she realized that none of the other rooms had curtains…
When she finally reached the stairs, she carefully went down and headed to the administrator office. Confirming that there was no one in the office and that the main doors were locked too, she lost all hope to light up the building, the fact that she couldn’t find any switches must have meant that they were controlled from the main office, and being locked she could do nothing about it.
“So I’m stuck in here, damn”
As she felt trapped inside the library she heard some wind-like sound in the book strands. The girl paralyzed for a few seconds before calming down. “If the librarian forgot about me, may have also forgotten to close a window” she thought. But she remembered then that there are no windows in the first floor, where did that came from then?
It was not that hot in the hall, but Suichi was sweating again, and this time not because of the environment, the girl was nervous.
When she decided to come back to reading she noticed the water dispenser was just a few steps from her, after she drank some water she went upstairs again, knowing that, if necessary, she might have to sleep in there. It wasn’t her fault to be in that situation after all and the librarian could get a sanction for leaving a student locked inside, so she could negotiate with him the next day.
As Suichi passed near the blackened she didn’t want to look inside the glass door, she just hurried back to her well illuminated room and closed the door. It was still hot in there, she even considered taking out her jeans. In her dorm she used to hang around just in swimsuit, and since no one was there she could do the same, but maybe later.

Having decided to read further, Suichi would read:


20. October 1921
I couldn't hide my condition from John anymore. I told him i was suffering nightmares, but i only told the less revolting details. It was especially the sleepwalking aspect which worried him. If he knew the truth, if he knew everything, he would have turned away from me disgustedly, and left me. And that would have been the end of me, i know for sure. I need him now. I don't have anyone else. He is so strong. He organized a psychologist who had studied under Sigmund Freud to look after me. But what can i tell the psychologist? I don't want to be thrown into a madhouse. I am sane. I am a mother now. I have to be sane. I have to.

10. February 1922
Ernest is dead. He died from suffering a heart attack, while being on his last expedition. I happened in January, we just now heard about it. He was a good friend. I am sad.

20. october 1924
Dear Diary, we moved to the countryside, when my condition became so bad, that John had to take action. He said he wanted to bring me into a new environment, where i could breathe freely again. He said, it would be good for Johanna and Georgia too. The move is responsible for the fact that i haven't written for such a long time, because you got buried by all the stuff we had to take with us. John is not a poor man after all, and with the twins, the things to take care of do not tend become less either.
Being not able to find you, I did start new diaries, several ones to be precise. I told them my nightmares, but i burnt them all, because i could never read one after i wrote it. It was too painful. So please excuse that i won't go into any detail about my so called dreams. It's just too painful, and i don't want to burn you too.

18.November 1925
I can't stand it anymore. Yesterday it has happened again, I want to believe that i am suffering nightmares, i want to believe that i am insane, that nothing of this is happening to me. But it is. Sometimes there are days in between, sometimes months, but they always return. I can still feel their disgusting touch, their slimy tentacles as they slither on my skin, their hot breath, coming from jaws filled with rows and rows of teeth. And they are doing things to me... terrible things, perverse things. I am so afraid.
I have been reading the translation over and over again. Did i miss something? Did i probably speak the names, while translating, whispering them to myself subconsciously? Did i do something wrong? Looking in the mirror, i see the the same haunted gaze that i saw with Jorgensen.
The transcription says: "To speak their four names is to become their gate and their consort in evil" If i am a gate, then what came into the world through me? Every night i am standing in front of my daughters beds now, insecure if they are Johns or... Theirs. At some days i even think that John is one of them, that he allows them to abuse me, that he belongs to some secret perverse society... But he isn't. He is so strong and caring.
He tells me that i should open up to my daughters, that they can't relate to me, that i am a stranger in their eyes. That they need a mother. I want to... god knows i want to... i just can't.

20 December 1925
Yesterday i was on the lowest point in my life, and i knew that i couldn't go on like this. That i would die, if i allowed myself to fall any deeper. It is probably at this points in life were you find the deep seated anger which brings you from your knees into a fighting position again. I said to myself: "No... thats it. I won't give up so easily. No More Miss Nice Girl, you will get to know me" I dug out Jorgensens stuff and got back to work. I will find my error. I will find a way to fight them. I will take back my life.

The next few pages are filled with linguistic tables again, crossed out assumptions and references. To understand the thoughts of Margarete through this is basically impossible, for she obviously didn't note all her thoughts. But nevertheless one would notice a progress or at least some direction, which finally led to a page where one could read:

"To say is to know"
"To say is to know"
"To say is t.."

The last part of the last sentence was not readable, because the ink had been diluted by a liquid and turned into a blot. It seems as if Margarete had been crying, as she wrote this.
It also seems as if Margarete had come to a conclusion, because there is only one page with conclusive text left before the written pages end, and, oddly enough, another little part of newspaper, which is glued in place beneath this text.

In the study room it was still awfully warm and muggy, nothing near a condition in which Suichi would be able to sleep lateron, while the fog had reached the building, and was forming a white, intransparent wall before the window. One was barely able to see 5 Meters into it.

Suichi was scared by the description of Margarete's nightmares, but at the same time, curious, of the details about what was happening to her.
"Was she getting raped in every nightmare?". That's what one could say with the descriptions Margarete left. But that wouldn't be actually possible without her husband or children to notice. So it was really just nightmares or she had actually gone insane, and everything were just fantasies.
The pony tailed girl hoped that she would find the explanation of all that at the end of the book, she didn't have too much left to read, so she prepared to keep reading but...

"This is too hot, damn!"

And Suichi procceded to take out her jeans as planned, even though it was a little complicated due the stickyness they had caused by all the sweating. She tried to leave the door opened too, but it had a device on top of it that closed it automatically, nothing complicated, just a piston.

"Not good enough, but better" Suichi sat dawn again, now only wearing only the tight swimsuit and her sandals, crossing her long legs she continued to read.

Looking at the next page, the focus would be captivated first by the small piece of Newspaper which had been glued to the page. It was old, and there was a small piece of translucent plastic, cut out to fit the news papers size, glued over it, most probably to protect it from aging. It was an obituary notice in honor of Margarete Hayworth nee Heuss.

Margarete Hayworth Nee Heuss
5. May 1890 - 8. February 1927

She was a loving mother, but she got caught by her inner demons,
She burnt our home, yet she couldn't burn herself from our hearts.
may she find the rest in death, which she could not have in life.

Margarete, we will miss you.

Lord John Hayworth, Georgia Hayworth, Johanna Hayworth

Written above it was the rest of Margaretes Diary, though one would know already, that it did not have a happy end.

8. Febraury 1927

Dear Diary, i wrote once that i did not want to burn you, but i have to. This will be the last entry, and i guess i am writing it just to relieve my soul, and find the strength to do it finally. I know now, that i am not dreaming. I don't know if i am insane, but i can't risk it. If i am not insane, then i have become a gate, and so have you, dear diary. And my girls... probably they are not just as human as one would think according to their appearance. I am sitting in front of their beds now, at the small desk we bought them last month. John is sleeping, as are they, and i have two cans of petroleum at my side. I know, that in the aftermath one will condemn me, one will not understand, and my name will probably fill the newspapers for quite some weeks as an example of how monstrous people could become.
I will burn House Hayworth now, and all beings in it, be they of this world or not. And you, dear diary, will burn too. It is still sad though that it had to come this way, and thinking about the small detail that led to it... Damn you Jorgenson, why couldn't you kill me when there was still time. Why couldn't you tell me. But would i have believed you? I don't know. "To speak means to know". This were your dying words.
It was not "To speak their four names is to become their gate and their consort in evil" it was "To know their four names..." And how could i forget them? Ashhoth, Nuiglaiss, Hesthoor, Dachuor... They have been burnt into my memory by years of degrading rapes, years of questioning my own translation and my sanity. I can't forget them, and thus it will never end for me. I just have to make sure that no one ever learns them, that no poor soul ever has to pay for my faults. And thats the reason why you have to burn, dear diary. The reason why the whole house has to burn, because no one should ever reconstruct my words. Because to say is to know.

May god have pity on my soul.

The book ends here, and Suichi would have a few seconds to comprehend what she has been reading. But then she would hear scratching noises coming from the door. Turning around she would see, that fog was coming forth from under the study rooms door, and that a tentacle like thing was pushing it open with its trunk.

And there was a... Thing... coming through the window on the other side, shifting from the fog through the glass as if it was nothing but air. And while it climbed inside, it was staring at Suichi with inhuman eyes.