It all happened a week after my mom died, I wasn’t feeling anything, the week had went by as if I was slipped into a black hole, it just went by. I had dropped out of college. Just as I thought that I couldn’t be in any worse state, the letter dropped in, it was supposedly written by my father. “My father? But he had left my mother before I was even born” I said to myself, “how could he send me a letter, if he’s dead?”
I opened the letter, it was written on a typewriter I could tell, the font reminded me of my time in the army.
My dear son.
I’m sorry for not being there for you. I don’t even know your name, but still you have to do this for my, the key, it opens a safe deposit box, it might be interesting to you.
You father.
I thought of just throwing the key away, but I had always been interested in how my dad was.
After two days struggle between my curiosity and my caution, my curiosity won, and I went to the bank. In the deposit box there was an old book, written in some strange language that I couldn’t classify. In the box there also was some handwritten notes, I figured that it must had been my father’s handwriting, it was hard to read as if he had been in a hurry. Many of the notes seemed to lead to a place on Greenland called Antumbra.
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