“Here is our humble library.”

  What's with these people and saying humbleness?

  “The book you’re looking for should be in the back.”

  She pulled something out of her robe.

  “And here is our holy book. It’s an extra I carry around.”

  I hope she just keeps fifty books on her at all times.

  Jokes aside, I need an original text with a translation of the language it's written in, too.

  Amaterasu.

  With that, my coat felt a bit heavier.

  I guess she's helpful when it's her shit.

  Why do I keep insulting her?

  Is it just for the love of the game?

  Maybe it's something else.

  Doesn’t matter.

  I spend most of my time in libraries. I've talked about this before, but I know what a library smells like; it isn’t this. The smell that hit my nose was the same from outside.

  The damn thing stalking us.

  Why sweetness?

  Lower defense?

  Potion… poison?

  I removed my bandana from my left eye and covered my nose.

  Whatever it was, I wasn’t planning on breathing it.

  I pushed my shades closer to my face and tightened my hat.

  Don’t want my socket to get too breezy.

  “Well, thank you for all your help. We promised not to stay long,” Miyamoto said.

  “No, stay as long as you need. We’re always happy for new faces.” Joan replied.

  A lie wrapped in the truth… Well, isn’t the truth just lies we agree on?

  She walked off, but I could still feel eyes staring at me.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  I couldn’t see the front of her face, but I could see her face change.

  The fake smile dropped, and her face succumbed to reality.

  “Miyamoto, keep playing the part. I have everything I need, but beware the Ides of March.”

  I knew he wouldn’t understand what I meant, but I hoped he understood the meaning.

  I found a tablet and the other translation book and placed everything upon said table.

  Including my notebook.

  I readied my pen and started.

  Page after page of religious text, and I gotta I always hated Holy books.

  They were always been such poor reads. Due to these damn books being written and rewritten so many times so they could better control the masses. Or whatever new regime that popped up.

  They all say the same goddamn thing.

  Don’t question power.

  Believe you’re always being watched.

  And hate whoever we say, are you going against the word of your lord.

  Fucking sickens me.

  Of every horror of man I’ve seen, guess how many used religion as cannon fodder.

  My eye had too reread a part to make sure I read it right

  Odd.

  Minor alternation between the texts.

  As brought up before, such things happen all the time, but in the cult book, the women always have the power.

  Important?

  Unsure.

  Power, never good.

  Odd that the original text didn’t give more power to women, even though it was about a sun goddess, not a god.

  Odd, Amaterasu, odd.

  “Miyamoto, do you smell that?”

  “Yes, I have realized there a rather odd odor throughout these halls.”

  “All we can do is beware the land.”

  I feel like a mix of L, Columbo, and House. Too bad I’m not as good as any of them. But I am a dick; I got that much.

  I can only ever joke.

  Better than losing your shit at the drop of a hat.

  Did Caesar feel like this before he was assassinated?

  Going mad with anticipation, I got one thing over Caesar: I've been mad for a while now.

  Back to the topic at hand.

  I have to ponder why these damn books are so close.

  The major changes only change the names of men to women's names. Why would Amaterasu care so much about this cult? Also, sex is brought up a bit more, but it doesn’t seem relevant.

  The Holy Bible changes the number of people who die every once in a while, but a new Peoples Temple does appear every time.

  “I gotta take a leak, Miyamoto.”

  “Okay.”

  Bump. Bump.

  Two pairs of feet, quiet as a mouse, came from the roof.

  My eye moved toward the sound, seeing frosted-over windows.

  Being looked down on.

  This place must enjoy its symbolism.

  How could they have seen inside?

  The windows aren’t transparent.

  Are they one-way windows?

  Magic?

  But why didn’t their shadows dampen the sunshine?

  An endless amount of questions floods my mind, but no answers ever come. This is why I hate playing detective; it's too damn slow.

  Putting a 9mm in that bitch Joan's head and leaving, not caring about these fools, would be so much simpler.

  But now I have to dance in her damn palm—to save these people who don’t want to.

  Why do I only ever have ethics when it fucks me and me personally over?

  …I don’t have ethics.

  “I am leaving this library to use the restroom now.”

  Felt like a stage conductor or whatever they were called.

  “Don’t get lost.”

  “Trust me, or at least keep covering with lies upon lies until I lose whatever this act is.”

  I opened the doors of the library.

  The hallways were dark, silent, and large.

  The classic church smell mixed with the damn sweet toxin that won’t leave.

  Fuck!

  Every small detail is important.

  I will not be beaten.

  My mind filled with holy scripts and paranoia. Like any good little Catholic boy after Sunday school.

  I've never been a detective; the only time I put on the coat was with that clusterfuck back in Weltschmerz. It's time for a classic investigation.

  Become the shadows.

  Stay hidden from the sun.

  And gain proof.

  Also, taking a piss doesn’t sound too bad either.