On a shelf in the library the book slept, if that is really the proper word, fitfully. It had used up so much energy simply getting this far that its ability to think was sluggish. As people came close to the shelf it would start to attain some small degree of awareness, but as none of them came close enough it couldn't even get a sense of them as anything other than human, let alone see them or hear them.

Hopefully the charm would do the trick, but it was weak. Someone would have to actually make it this shelf for it to take hold, but once they did they would find the book quite interesting. Hopefully interesting enough to pick it up. The book had assumed an appearance based on other volumes nearby, using information blindly cribbed from them to put a facade on its pages that was intended to fool any reader long enough for the book to act on its own. Now it just had to wait for someone to need a book in whatever section this was.

LAter, Violett would realize that those eight words were her mistake. She never should have thought them, much less said them out loud.

"You know, I really ought to read more..."

A seemingly innocent sentence, but leading to...

"... Maybe I should go to the library."

Which, of course, was a trap if ever there was one. Bad things happened at that library. None had happened to Violett there yet, of course, but she should have had an inkling anyhow.

This was Shokushu. Bad things happened everywhere.

Maybe that's why she went; if you're going to get snatched up by some horrible beast from beyond the stars, bent backwards over a water fountain, and held immobile as slimy tendrils force there way into places you never suspected could have anything to do with sex, and were happier not knowing about the erotic uses of (Violett's knees would never feel quite the same), well, you might as well have something to read while you're waiting for the tattered remains of your clothes to be done going through the washer afterwards.

That was her first mistake.

Her second mistake was wandering aimlessly through the libary to see what struck her fancy rather than deciding what she wanted.

Had she given things a bit of thought and headed straight for the manga, she never would have been in that odd little place where the Fantasy and Reference sections seemed to fuse into one, surrounded by strange grimoires with even stranger smells.

"... I really hope that's not what it looks like," shuddered Violett, backing away from the shelves...

And bumping right into another bookshelf, where a certain volume that shall remain nameless (titleless?) lay dreaming, not dead.

A title is only necessary for a book when one expects it to be read by others. And although numerous men had written in the book over time, each one thought (even if not always consciously) that he would be the last owner of the book. Dabble in magic for long enough, however, and plans have a way of failing.

But in the present the book's mind stirred as the presence of someone in close proximity called out to it. It still wasn't enough to bring about full awareness in the tome, but it could sense a mind nearby. Now it just needed the lure to do the job.

The book actually looked safer than some of the other volumes nearby. It wasn't so thick and heavy as to look imposing, and didn't look nearly as old as its true age. It still lacked a title, but its spine and cover were home to a variety of occult images traced in gold leaf; it was actually fairly attractive, from an aesthetic point of view. And then, of course, there was the charm it had cast over itself.

Ever so slightly, the pages rustled. The movement was so slight that it might not even be noticed by someone looking directly at the book, but in the quiet of the library the noise might just be enough to make someone look in that direction.

Yelping at the sudden sound, Violett leaped backwards in shock, right into the bookshelf behind her, causing a certain book to fall on her head, knocking her to the floor.

"Owie..."

Looking over to where the book was kying on the floor, Violett felt her eyes inexplicably drawn to the gold leaf, her hands reaching out to it as if of their own accord.

"Why hello there, little book... What are you? Are you someone's diary? Is that why you don't have a title?"

Falling on Violett's head was not the kind of physical contact the book was used to, but it was nevertheless enough to begin the process of waking it up. It could now begin to make sense of its surroundings, as well as see and hear the girl that had awoken it. And then she picked it up, and the book could feel itself coming back to life. But it still needed time before it could act. Something to keep her interested while it made sure of the situation.

A diary, she said? An easy enough task. With no visible change on the outside, the contents of the book shifted to be more in line with what it thought Violett was expecting. If she opened the cover, she would find the first page with only two large words, written in a flowing script: "My Diary"

On the second page the diary proper began with an entry. The text was written in recognizable, but slightly archaic English, certain elements of the script linking it to the late 18th century, for those with knowledge of such things. Even without specialized knowledge, however, it was not text too difficult to parse into a modern reading.

"Dear Diary,

I have often wished that I could have a truer memory of what was in my mind at a specific time. I do not wish the joyous times, or even the sad ones, to slip away with the sands of time as I have seen happen to many.

To this end I have acquired you, diary, to be my memory and my confidant. And some day, when I am gone, perhaps through you I will still live on in some sense. If that day has come, and the person reading this is someone other than myself, I invite you to remember through this book the small life of one woman, and pray that I will be smiling down on you from Heaven above as you do.

Elizabeth"

There was apparently more after the first name, but the bottom corner of the page had been torn away at some point.

The book waited in anticipation to see what the girl would do. If it could stimulate her mind for a time before unleashing any real power it would be more confident in its safety.

Gazing in curiousity, Violett tilted her head this way and that quizzically, trying to find any trace of the missing potion, which she assumed was Elizabeth's surname.

Violett put a lot of stock in names... Unsurprising, considering hers.

She checked to see if maybe it was only a slight tear, if the relevant portion was tucked under. It wasn't. Failing any hint of the missing piece, she did the only thing she could do.

She turned the page.

Upon turning the page it became apparent that at some point a number of pages had been torn from the book. A few of the tears left enough of the page behind that a portion of a letter might still be visible, but nothing that could provide any meaning. After the torn pages, however, the diary continued.

"Dear Diary,

Charles has been so wonderful to me. So many people speak ill of him, but I cannot imagine why. He is a kind and generous man, and even his detractors admit that he comes from good stock. I wish that I could tell mother and father of our love, but they would never understand. Father even seems to think Charles had something to do with the disappearance of those women several months back. Impossible!

I know Charles, and I know he loves me. I can only hope that some day he will ask me to be his wife, even if it means I must elope with him and leave my family behind."

The other side of this page had the ink smeared to the point of being illegible, and then the next several pages were again torn out before the diary continued.

"Dear Diary,

Oh joyous day! I think the time may have finally come. Charles has been even more romantic of late, and today he said he had something incredibly important to show me. I am to make my way to his home late tonight. Is this it? Shall he ask me to marry him? Father will be furious, of course, but I don't care! In just a few hours I shall go, and nothing will ever be the same!"

Further down on the same page the writing resumed. It appeared to be the same handwriting, but it was not as smooth as it was previously, as if the author's hand was shaking.

"Such things I have seen. And done. I now know that my knowledge of the world is miniscule compared to what there is to know. Could any god fearing person ever even imagine that which he showed to me? I don't know that I can ever truly express that which I saw, but in the next few pages I will do my best to show it."

At the end of the writing was an ink blotch, where the writer apparently fumbled with the pen. And there the page ended.

Gasping in surprise, Violett dropped the book, hands shaking.

The things I have seen...

This book knew something about the island... It had to be a journal of someone who was here, right? Otherwise, how would it have gotten to this library?

And, if her hunch was right, she was sure it was Charles who was to blame for the constant stream of rape and humiliation that had become the day-to-day routine for every girl on this campus.

Scrambling to the floor, she scooped the book back up and kept reading.

"All right, Charles... Who are you REALLY?"

The book couldn't tell exactly what Violett was thinking, but it could see that what she had read was having an acceptable effect on her. Being dropped didn't bother it, although if Violett were to run off it would have to act a bit more abruptly than planned. Still, it was almost ready as it was.

But the girl did pick the book back up and turn the page. Where it quickly became apparent that there was little to be said about Charles himself, and that the author had been quite literal about 'showing' what she had experienced. The back of the previous page was blank, but the page after that was covered in one large sketch.

The sketch depicted two thickly muscled humanoids with scaly skin standing close to one another with a young woman stuck between them. They had rows of spikes protruding from their backs and, although the sketch stopped just below knee height, it was clear that their knees bent in the opposite direction of humans. They had heads covered in spikes, large, toothy mouths, no visible noses and narrow eyes. Their hands only had three fingers, and the one in front of the woman was gripping her by the arms while the one behind her held her by the waist. And both of them were quite visibly aroused, with their erections buried inside the woman between them.

The woman was young, with long, blonde hair, and wearing the remnants of a torn dress that did little to cover anything of importance. She was clearly crying.

Although the images were sketched with a pen they were remarkably detailed and lifelike. And then they began to move.

The two creatures thrust back and forth into the woman, bouncing her up and down between them and squashing her against their chests. Her arms flailed weakly in the grip of the one in front of her and her head lolled about as tears streamed down her face. And then her features began to blur, the ink shifting about on the page, until it was an image of Violett being ravished by the two creatures.

Violett stared at the book, blinking in confusion before flinging it at the wall.

"Stupid diary! Stop trying to make passes at me and tell me something USEFUL!"

Suddenly, however, something went click in her brain, and the look of annoyance on her face melted into fear as she backed away slowly.

"... I'm gonna have paper cuts in really bad places, aren't I?"

The book bumped against the wall and fell to the floor, open. After a moment the pages began to rapidly turn, despite the lack of any wind within the library.

"That, at least, you needn't worry about."

The voice came from behind Violett at the same time as a hand with long, pitch black fingers closed tightly on her shoulder. "I admit, it was a bit abrupt... but I've been cooped up for too long." The hand on Violett's shoulder spun her around, knocking her back against a bookcase and allowing her to see the being speaking to her.

He stood about seven feet tall, with mostly the body proportions of a muscular human. His skin, however, was an inky black with a sheen to it that made it look almost slick. The face was just a slash for a mouth and two holes for eyes, both opening onto an inner red glow. And between his legs hung a cock which, while not yet erect, promised to be of considerable size.

"So much easier to think now... Not that I need do much of that to trick one like you. Such foolish little creatures..."

Violett started to shriek, then bit her tongue. She was, after all, in a library...

And one of the books had just slammed her against the bookshelf like she was a rag doll.

She squirmed, trying to break free of the massive, hellish thing's grip, sobbing softly.

"Why are you doing this? All I wanted was a little light reading!"

Codex maintained his grip on Violett, looking down at her. It appeared that he might be smirking, but his simplistic facial features made it difficult to tell. "Why? Because I can. And because I want to."

As he said that Codex moved in closer to Violett, further trapping her against the bookshelf. His free hand moved down to her leg, sliding up her thigh beneath her skirt. "And because you're too pitiful to stop me. You can try if you want, though. A little extra amusement wouldn't hurt. The main event will be soon enough."

A main event likely involving the rapidly stiffening erection rising up between the monster and the girl.

Squirming and whimpering, Violett shuddered, gasping softly as the huge, terrifying hand stroked her thigh, trying her hardest to ignore the stiffening member that was beginning to poke against her other leg.

"You... You lied to me..." she stammered, struggling against the huge, strong hand holding her in place.

"Lied?" Codex shifted the hand that was stroking Violett's thigh, forcing her legs far enough apart for him to cup his hand over her groin and press firmly against her through the material of her panties.

"Well, not entirely. Those first few pages were real, though copied from the original source. Not my doing, though I can't fault the method. Human sacrifice, in all its forms, is such a wonderful source of power when used properly."

The line that made up Codex's mouth curved up at the edges in a grin. "But don't be too frightened by that 'sacrifice' talk. Even that Elizabeth wasn't killed. Quite the opposite, in fact. Although by now I imagine she rather wishes she had been. If she's still capable of that. After a few centuries of that, well... And she was weak to begin with."

As he went on, Codex almost seemed to forget that Violett was there. He kept his grip firm, but eventually gave the impression that he was speaking to himself. He then, however, turned his attention back to the girl. "Of course, you're all weak, aren't you? But you do have your uses. Now, where to begin..."