The Bygone

Episode 2

1.46 AM, 20th September 2006,

Library of Congress, Washington D.C.

          Varun, with the special request from the Head of the Department, Native Symbology at Stanford, got his permission to stay late in the Library of Congress. There was a splash of surprise and a tinge of excitement on his face. He was sure that he is about to discover something that had been lost in the history. There was a book in his hand, which no one was aware that it still exists, “Rio de Orellana”, by Francisco de Orellana, a Spanish explorer. He was the first known explorer to travel down the Amazon river. It was believed to be lost during the World War I. Efforts were made, but in vain, to reclaim it. Somehow it found its way into the Library of Congress through an anonymous donor a few months ago and was placed in the restricted section upon the donor’s request. Varun was walking down the aisle with this book in his hand and carefully examining its pages. He wasn’t reading through the text, but was trying to find something. Carefully looking through the edges and a few particular portions of the text, he was jotting down alphabet from the paragraphs of text and scribbling some unknown symbols that he found on those corners of the pages and between the lines of text.

          There was a pin drop silence in the whole of the library. Varun was so deeply engrossed into his work that he didn’t notice the trained eyes that were watching him.

        *Click*. He swiftly looked behind him into the dark aisle in reaction to the sound.

        “Who is it?” “Is there anyone else here?” called Varun, out of a slight panic. He walked a few steps, but could find nobody. He walked back to his table, dismissing the sound heard. He thought he was alone, but he didn’t know that he had been under watch for the past few weeks.

        With a bleeding leg, he walked towards the crashed plane to find any first aid kit that was in good enough shape to help him dress his bleeding leg. After a few minutes of careful, but slow observation, he managed to find a first aid box with its top shattered open. He dressed his cuts and took a few painkillers into his mouth and the rest into his pockets.

“Ok. Now I need to think fast. Where am I? What is this place”

        He got up with the help of a stick and walked forward towards the woods, slowly. The moment he entered into the woods, there were only streaks of sunlight passing through the thick canopy of the high rise trees. He walked further into the chirping of birds, thawing of monkeys, stares of the deer and hissing of snakes. The further he moved, the softer the turf felt. It was wet, more than what he would expect in a forest. He was writhing in pain, dying of thirst and could walk no longer. He leaned onto a tree and sat down. There was something moving above his head and he looked up. It was small creature with a golden fur that looked like a raccoon, teasing him with it’s long tongue.

        “That’s it!”  He found a Kinkajou, which is usually found in the Amazon rainforest.

        Again, he was reminded that he was not alone when he realised that something is watching him. The creature dashed past behind him and in no time, Varun was on his feet, arming the stick in his hands. It was quick, it was dark and it seemed to be in a hurry. It attacked him in a flash from the behind and held him tight in its iron grip. He managed to shake it away and struck on its head with the stick. The creature lost its grip and dropped to the ground. Another similar creature squealed and attacked him, but he managed to dodge it and strike a blow on its back. It cried in pain and ran back into the woods.

        Varun got back to the creature on the ground and observed it carefully. He fell back from the body with a horror on his face.

       “This can’t be real. This cannot be real.” repeated Varun in a half-dead tone.