I woke up gasping. My eyes darted towards the pendulum clock which lay beside me, as its small hand struck the 10th hour. Hastily, I searched for a lighter inside my pocket and lit it to examine the scene. From the scars on the body, it seemed a spirit had possessed him. The foul odor spread out a sickening feeling. I started to regret the decision to come here. I served in the anti-spirit squadron, and I had become obliged to investigate it now. At the same time, I knew I should not get deeply involved in this.

  I crouched down as I started to examine the body. It had become pale, with skin coming out. The pupils were dilated, and his head lay on the ground with no particular signs of physical resistance. Examining the knife, there was old blood dripping from it. The dark signs on his neck showed that the possession had progressed, likely causing to kill himself. It felt quite peculiar how the spirit entered this manor, despite its strong barrier. This was the case of a classic locked-room murder mystery.

  A hazy memory dawned upon me, as I remembered that there were signs of spirits when I entered the mansion.

  With silent footsteps, I started to walk away from the body, and traversed to the insides. I halted in between steps, looking at the body with a stern gaze. Just outside what seemed like a collector’s library, I lit a smoke, and the fire revealed the inner structure.

  The books seemed to be arranged properly, each shelf arranged in clean order. They were put in each corner, except right next to where the door was. In the middle of it, there was a chair and study table, along with a lamp. I removed one of the books, brushing over it with dried hands. It was a hardcopy with only a dark red hue covering its outsides. No titles were printed on them. Carefully, I opened the first chapter. The contents seemed to be blasphemous, speaking against the divine commands. Still, I felt a strange sense of aversion, as if I was the target of mockery.

  “Who’s there?”

  A voice came from outside the room. I put the book down on the table, slowly loading my gun as I hid in the corner next to the open door.

  “Kircheis, seize this at once!”

  Two faint shadows stood still. It seemed they were near the dead body. A creaking noise followed.

  “I am Hermann von Richter, 2nd in the frontline command of the anti-spirit squadron! I am here on official investigation. You must not take anything from here.”

  I warned them before their hands reached the ground. My eyes focused on the wall, trying to discern their next action.

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  Suddenly, the figures disappeared, along with the sound of their footsteps. I sneakily revealed my head from the corner, and shifted my gaze to the main door. The body lied where it was, and there was no one except myself.

  The air started to feel ominous. I looked at the clock, counting the hours. It had been around two hours since I entered this manor. I placed my head to look through the window near the main door, and the moon had risen to its peak. No answers seemed to avail from this case. It all started to feel futile, as my zeal and curiosity both quickly died out.

  As I walked towards the library once more, hoping to get a quick rest, my gaze suddenly went to the wall in front of it. There, the sides of a wooden frame revealed itself. On it, there was a figure which sternly looked in a mirror, and in the middle, was myself. I realized the same painting was hung, similar to what I had seen in my dream.

  I leaned on the door hinge. My hands started to shake, as an oozing feeling came through. Looking around, everything seemed to turn into a spiral-like structure. The sight started to transition to the forest floor now. I walked to and fro, becoming agitated as I feared that I could no longer return. Then, I closed my eyes. The scene quickly shifted.

  I slid down on the floor, and was reminded of the dream. Again, I became consumed with the regret that I could not save anyone. All I could do was watch, and do nothing about it. This feeling and experience were not ordinary, I knew it for sure. I started to fear for the worst, standing near the door in frustration. What if I could never lead a normal life?

  In the dream, there was one name which I did not recognize: ‘Immanuel.’ A vague feeling kept me at the edge, as I felt that it was a name that I was aware of, even though it was not a personal allusion of any kind. I started walking towards the gate of this manor, while frequently spacing out. Not able to find the answers to this case, the questions had only increased. A strange, unexplainable fear preoccupied my mind all of a sudden. Will I be myself after I leave this mystery behind?

  While I was preoccupied with this, I was forced to avert my gaze towards the mirror that hung besides. My face revealed a shriveled skin, and burst lips with tired blue eyes. The hair had become grey, as ears poked out of it in a small curve. It had changed completely. I now understood clearly why the dream felt all too nostalgic. I was no longer myself, falling into sin after entering the library.

  I felt lost, glancing at my surroundings with a surreal gaze as if this sight which I was looking at was not reality.

  Now, I knew my family would no longer recognize me. I had become nameless, and the world was unknown to me. The library must have been the source of all this. After all, it was forbidden to touch. But, that was the only way I could have saved the town. I felt regret wrap around me. The names which were inscribed on the wall came to mind. I recalled each and every one of their faces. They were all friends whom I cherished.

  A name then came zapping through my mind, as if I knew of it well.

  “Wolff Muller.” And, I knew it was my name.