The Antiquated Tome

A rather odd occurrence arose three days after my father’s death which left me flabbergasted at the phenomenal vigour life secretes. Still stunned with the abrupt passing of my sole parent my life was in an upheaval and I was convinced that I would succumb to this distressing affair. During this time father’s residence was raided three times by a rather peculiar group of tight-lipped men. Each time they pounded on my door they insisted on knowing if I possessed or was aware of an antiquated tome my dad owned. Furthermore after informing these men that I wasn’t familiar with a book as such, they made it entirely understandable that it was of the utmost urgency that they retrieve this tome. If I desired to remain invulnerable, they continued, I must bring it to their attention whenever I gain any knowledge regarding the whereabouts of this artifact. I was infuriated by the certitude with which these men encroached on my dwelling and examined all my private belongings without once apprising me of who they were.  Last night while sprawled out on the claret divan in the lounge I was left baffled attempting to understand what book these tight-lipped men were asking for. Surely I would’ve known about this book, my father wasn’t one for keeping secrets from his only son. Noticing the sinister gloom that raised a sudden silence about my place I heard an exceedingly faint tap on the door. At this moment I suffered the most potent fright to ever be experienced in my life. On the porch in the brilliance of the moon my deceased sister gazed at me from her mesmerizing indigo eyes. I noticed an enormous book resting in her naked arms. “Brother, help me…”