>>5519958 >>552001511 hours until you get to go back. You guess you should get to work then. Won't have too long to do anything later, what with orientation in the morning.
First things first, you need to look through those locked bookshelves. If you were to speak charitably, you'd say you have <span class="mu-i">some</span> idea of what's going on. As for why it has happened to you... well, that's a complete blank. Your hope is that whatever your uncle has decided to keep under another layer of lock and key may hold the answer to that.
You take a quick look at the bookshelves in the office. They weren't built to be locked originally, although they did have doors on the front from the start. That means that the locks for both are just padlocks clasped over the wooden door handles. A certain primal part of you just wants to find another axe and force your way in, but in consideration of the fact that this is your family's house and that you might damage whatever is inside, you decide to just break the handles and slide the locks off instead.
After scavenging an electric drill from someone's garage you bring it back and drill through the top of each door handle, until each has a large enough hole. After that you slip all the locks off the bookcases, one by one, and then open them up.
The first bookcase contains all sorts of books that appear to be about magic, the occult, or fringe conspiracy theories- ancient alien sorts of stuff. Without evening skimming through them you can tell that the combination of books is rather eclectic, to put it lightly. Major religious texts such as The Bible, Quran, The Torah, et cetera. More fringe ones, such as books advertising their affiliation with Scientology or Heaven's Gate. Dusty old books that don't seem to be connected to any particular religion, and simply advertise <span class="mu-s">THE SECRETS OF THE UNIVERSE</span>, <span class="mu-s">THE PATTERNS OF ALL THINGS</span>, or <span class="mu-s">FORBIDDEN MAGICKS</span> through their spines and backs. Mixed among it all are even books that were clearly intended for fiction: you can see that your uncle had collected all the Harry Potter books, for one thing.
Turning your attention away from the forest of words in front of you, you open up the second bookshelf. It is somehow more eerie to you. Every single book looks almost exactly the same, like they were copy and pasted. Blank cover, blank spine, blank back, and all very thin. A few at the top with names written on their front help you figure out what's going on. "MARCH 1980. APRIL 1980. MAY 1980."
These are all journals. Probably all in order, maybe going from 1980 until... well, last year. You grab a handful of books from the top shelf, take them over to the desk and then sit down in your uncle's big, comfy chair. Looks like you have a lot of reading ahead of you.
