Light drenched the museum in precise increments, draped like cream voile between grand arches of carved stone. My eyes followed the general movement in the room, observing each curious mind. Inspired sketching artists, tracing sculptures of flawless physiques onto blank sheets. Tourists doting over gold-framed paintings. Inquisitive children, saturated with wonder over the grandeur of the room itself. When suddenly, my gaze rested upon a case in the far right corner of the gallery. Although I was unable to fully discern what was illumined in the case, I was unduly drawn to the undisclosed item. Like a moth to a flame, I found myself making my way over to the beacon.

My eyes studied the scroll in the glass case, examining each crevice of the sand-tinged parchment. The striking illustrations in azure, gold, emerald and wine, depicting scenes from a previous epoch, felt somewhat familiar. It was as though I was having an intense case of deja vu. The ebony calligraphy, at first mere etchings, suddenly began to reveal sentences that I could decipher with unsettling ease. I gulped as I digested each sentence of this ancient, dead language, as each word was exhumed in my mind. Unable to deter my focus, but terrified all the same.

Amongst the room of all those curious minds, why was I the only one who seemed to have any interest in this artefact? More importantly, why was I able to assimilate each expression of the harrowing curse etched onto the scroll…?