This morning I woke up with a strange feeling of confusion.
Lately I haven't been able to get enough sleep. It’s not that something constantly worries me, but I have long come to terms with the fact that I simply cannot sleep like ordinary people, from 5 to 9 hours a day.
Tiredly rolling out of bed, I went to the window, pulling back the curtain. Summer. August had just begun, but the heat could hardly be described in two words. I lived since childhood in this small town called Timon. This is a very small town, which serves more as a transit point in the middle of the local outback.
Essentially, this city was more reminiscent of some kind of train station than a real settlement. There were no more than fifty thousand inhabitants here, and if you think that since I called the city a transit point, then many people pass through here, then you are mistaken.
There is an impenetrable forest very close to us, and only two main roads lead into the city itself. I personally never understood how Timon could even exist. Purely for economic reasons. We don’t have any production, there’s nowhere to fish, and the rare hunters don’t really hunt in the local forests. And why? Skins and meat can be sold to locals, but you are unlikely to build a career on this...
Hiding from the scorching sun, I went to the shower. There a new portion of thoughts awaited me.
You see... last night I received a strange letter. And not by email, not by fax, and not even by SMS. It was a real paper letter. Frankly, I have never received anything like this. The letter was addressed to me personally. Which also made me think. I never left this city, which means anyone who needed me could come to me in person, if they didn’t dare write or call. The sender of the letter was a certain Dorian Hoover, whose name I heard for the first time. Judging by his return address, he lived at least two days' drive from Timon.
While the cool water was diligently trying to wash away the drowsiness from my body, I could not switch to anything more pressing. Since this letter arrived, a real hive has started up in my head, whose bees have not given me peace, constantly reminding me of that strange letter.
I understood that I was not at all obligated to answer this letter or react to it in any way, but curiosity got the better of me. Perhaps, while reading these lines, you found my diary, which began from this very place. And perhaps you, the person reading this, will be able to understand some things better than I did...
The white envelope contained a sheet of paper containing the following message:
“Hello, dear Janet Dimwood. I apologize for this sudden letter, especially considering that we do not know each other, but I needed to contact you on one extremely important issue.
My name is Dorian Hoover and I am a historian. My long studies of classical history are already a thing of the past, because at the age of fifty-three I am somewhat tired of people repeating the same mistakes over and over again. But you're probably not interested in that.
The point is, I've spent the last few years searching for what history can't explain. And yet, do not consider me to be some kind of occultist or representative of magical sects. Im a man o science. And about a year ago I found what I was looking for.
The town of Akunagi...»
After drying my head with a towel, I went to the mirror, starting to apply makeup. Something told me that the day would be busy. “Akunagi Town” ... after these words I spent at least an hour trying to remember where I heard about it. I even called my friends, asking about this place, but I never received any useful information. Almost all the people said that they had heard about this place, but no one could remember from where. Fortunately, the next part of the letter somewhat clarified this issue.
«I'm sure you know that Akunagi is literally twenty kilometers from your place of residence, somewhere beyond the eastern forests of Timon. More precisely, he «should» be there.
This city interested me simply because there is practically no information about it. Nowhere. I have access to many archives, and the Internet, after all. But after many months of searching, I stumbled upon a gold mine. This may not seem very rational to you, but forgive me, old man. Some people DO know about Akunagi. They are the ones who say that it is... near the Timon. Some of my fellow historians also spoke confidently about some of the events that took place in this particular city. Extremely important, in my opinion, but requiring confirmation.
Do you understand what am i talking about?
The mystical part here is that Akunagi does not exist on any map. No information about it in the textbooks. It is nowhere to be found, yet more than a hundred people I interviewed know at least its name. And if you dig deeper into this topic, you can find an unimaginable number of holes in their information. One person does not know where he got this information from, another confidently takes a book from the shelf in an attempt to prove his knowledge, but he is disappointed when does not find any confirmation of Akunagi existence.
For my profession, it's become almost personal. I'm used to holding tightly to logic and don't believe in all sorts of Bermudian Triangles.
At first, I convinced myself that this was just another foolish joke, but time passed, and I haven’t stopped thinking about that Akunagi town.
I wanted to go to this place in person to check everything out, but my physical condition does not allow such long trips.
That's why I found you. I tearfully ask you, as a stranger with a similar craft. Go to Akunagi and tell me as much as possible about what you learn about it. For this purpose, please use the reverse address form the letter. I'm not very good with technology, so do apologize for that method of contact.
I would really not like to scare you with information about why I write to you, or why this small expedition may be dangerous for your, so I will tell you about this in my next letters, which I have prepared in advance. These letters will come to you once a week, but if you do not agree to help me, then simply do not read them.
P.S.
If you decide to go to Akunagi, be sure to keep a diary describing everything that happens. This is extremely important, Janet. Your notes may be the only tangible records of this place.
Sincerely, Dorian Hoover»
When I finished putting on my makeup, it was time to get dressed and go outside. I was going to go to the store.
And yet this letter haunted me. I didn’t even know where to start raking through the mountain of questions. Can this Hoover be trusted? How did he find me? What kind of secret city is this? Why is there such a strange phrase about “a dangerous expedition” at the end of the letter? This looks like fantastic nonsense. If there really is a city behind the forest, then you can be there in a day. Of course, if Mr. Hoover wants more information, i will need to stay in Akunagi for a couple of days. And anyway, no one will pay me for this, right? Why should I waste time on this? It was as if the person who wrote the letter knew that I had a free week starting today.
It all feels strange.
Bending down to tie my shoelaces, I felt a touch on my back and turned around sharply. No one is here. And i don't have any pets. This probably often happens to people who have problems sleeping. Maybe I want adventure and I'm just imagining things? A strange letter, a stranger, an unfamiliar city... at a very opportune time.
Frankly, looking at this forest from my window, I often shuddered at the thought that hunters really do hunt up there. It wasn't the forest itself that scared me, but the fact that it was so huge that I couldn't see where it ended. Some kind of impenetrable greenery.
Shaking my head, I looked at myself in the mirror and, nodding approvingly, left the apartment. The lock clicked loudly behind me, I think I forgot to have breakfast…
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