Chapter 12: Sham
The book that just mysteriously appeared in Mikel's bag looked old — its brown leather cover worn and at the edges, a few parts was already disintegrating.
A part of him didn't even want to touch it, yet somehow, he picked it up and examined it closely. From the outside, there was nothing on it. Not even any eerie letters on the cover, which he had expected. It looked completely normal. Just like his bracelet.
Perhaps too normal... and old.
As he opened it, a hint of vanilla with an earthy undertone hit his nostrils. The pages were slightly yellowed and crisp — not like his textbooks, the only books he owned. These felt thicker, slightly rough to the touch.
"The Book of the Dead, huh?" he muttered in realization, nodding slightly.
As Mikel flipped through the empty pages, they suddenly fanned themselves toward the last page like a gust of wind had turned them. Only — there was no wind.
For a moment, he sat still, staring at the last page. A creeping sensation climbed up his spine — the feeling that something was staring back at him from within the book.
Another wave of distress twisted in his gut.
"Damn," he stressed, placing the book on his lap and tucking it under his elbow as he buried his face in his hands. "The first relic wants to eat me, now the second one wants to blow up my brain."
If anyone was cursed, it was Mikel.
The heavens were not on his side. Not. At. All.