This story is a prequel to both 'For your eyes only' and 'Having fun with Faith'. I recommend reading those two before this one.
Call me Jack
"Item 125 is an unadorned chest made of oak with a cast-iron lock. Its 126 centimeters long, 70 centimeters wide and 60 centimeters high." Miriam shut off the recorder before letting out a sigh. She was cataloguing the contents of a library, part of some disputed estate. All of it was going to be sold, but first it had to be determined what exactly was being sold.
Which was where Miriam Constable came in. Well, her and Janice Guerrada who was in the office opposite of her own. Both would have to go through half of the books in the library, but they'd had a little contest on who could do the contents of the chest that was now sitting in her office. Obviously Miriam had won it.
The reason they both wanted to do that part of the job was the story behind the collection. It had a rather large occult section and the books in the chest were supposed to be too dangerous to be kept where anybody could get to them.
A silly superstition of course, but it had whetted her curiosity and Janice had thought it was a cover for racy material. Miriam didn't think so. She had found a few risqué books already so it was obvious the collectors weren't that shy. Which left the question of what was in those books unanswered.
'But not for long,' she gleefully thought as her gloved hands turned the key. And she needed both because the lock was stiff, only giving way reluctantly. With a groaning click the chest was unlocked and Miriam now carefully lifted the lid to peer inside.
She was met by the musty smell of old books with a hint of ancient timber underneath it. Miriam was disappointed to find so few books inside, ten in all. She blinked as it registered just how shallow the chest was and a small smile appeared on her face when a hunch came to her.
A careful study of the bottom revealed that it was made out of several planks. Instead of starting with the books she had already found, she gently piled the few books that were lying on the right up on the ones on the left to clear that half of the chest.
Her hand traced the seam in the middle as Miriam considered how to open it. When her hand had traversed half of the width of the chest she felt something and on instinct she pressed down and to the right. With a click half of the bottom hinged up and away to reveal a second compartment. Books were piled up in a haphazard heap, filling the hidden compartment to the brim.
Miriam's eyes were drawn to one book in particular. It was large and thick with three metal bands supporting its covers. There was no clue to what the book was about. 'Only one way to find out then,' Miriam concluded impishly as she took it out.
She turned the recorder on again after taking a seat behind her desk, she couldn't open the book before noting what the item looked like. "Item 125a is a book, with no writing or artwork on its covers. The covers are light green with three iron bands running horizontally along them." Since there was nothing else she turned her recorder off and opened the book to the first page.
Inside she was confronted with handwriting and a surprise. She blinked as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. She recognized the writing on the top as Latin, but halfway it turned into what she thought was medieval French and the bottom lines looked like the squiggly lines of Arabic. Two languages she couldn't read. It took another moment for her to realize that she was looking at a Rosetta stone. The same message in different languages.
At least she thought it was that. But to make sure she plugged in her handscanner so she could send an image of the page to a friend of hers. He should be able to tell her if she was right. Having sent the email she returned to the top of the page, she didn't need help to translate the Latin.
Handily, the text started with a date. 'The sixteenth of January of the year of our Lord 1603,' Miriam read. Things after that got a little weirder. 'To you, who reads this, be warned. Within this volume is captured,' Miriam reconsidered the translation of that last word. No, it should be imprisoned. 'Within this volume is imprisoned a demon most insidious. A creature of seduction and sin, not burdened by conscience or morality. Read no further, let it rest here for eternity.'
"Well, that certainly sets the mood," Miriam muttered to herself. As well as puzzling. She had read about grimoires of course and had even read a few of them. But those were about summoning demons or classifying them, not containing them. When she had seen the date she thought that it was a grimoire, but either it was a very unique one or it was something else. "And it looks like Janice might be right after all. They did stash their smut in the chest." Instead of turning the page she took the time to record the information she had gleaned.
With some guilty excitement coursing through her she finally turned the page. But she wasn't confronted with lewd wood engravings or even Latin. What she was left staring at an incomprehensible script the likes of which she had never seen before. The page before her blurred and she had to blink a few times for her eyesight to sharpen again.
Startled she saw that she did recognize the language after all, it was modern English. True, the letters were a little strange but the style was actually quite engaging. A pleasure on the eye in fact. Writing her first impression off to being tired, Miriam concentrated on what this meant. 'That this book isn't all that old after all,' she concluded. 'The first page might have been written some time before the rest, but that is the remote possibility. Hmm, judging from the words I'd say it's 19th century at best. More likely 20th century but that raises the question of who made it?'
She would have to read a few pages then, get a feel of what the book was about. Miriam snorted after reading the first few lines. 'As introductions go its jarring, no introductions or explanations.' It just told her about how something called a pleasure demon encountered a girl, barely into adulthood. She was kneeling next to a stream, with the sun up high shining down unimpeded by clouds or trees.
The girl was softly singing as she washed some clothes, including her own. This left Rachelle clothed only in her undergarments. 'Lousy introduction, but the writer really knows how to describe something. I can see the girl, picture how she bends over to expose milky white thighs.'
Miriam's breathing deepened as she read further, imagining the pleasure demon stalking Rachelle. Slinking up to her until he could mold his immaterial form to the unsuspecting girl. She could hear how he whispered hot urgings to her, molded his hands to her breasts. They could not stir her flesh, but they certainly stimulated her feelings.
'Her nubs hardened as thick arousal began to course through her. Rachelle didn't know where this was coming from, why it was happening now. She straightened her back as she pulled the wet article of clothing out of the stream. She stopped rubbing it so she could begin rubbing her thighs together. Her pussy was growing wet and Miriam cupped...'
With a start Miriam removed her hand from her breast, her heart still pounding as she got her bearings back. She was a little embarrassed to note the story had aroused her. But there were more important things, like whether or not she had imagined reading her name there. A quick search only brought up Rachelle's. 'Alright, that's it. It's just too late, time to go home for the day.' It was easy to lose track of time in the office, there were no windows because natural light wasn't so kind to old books.
