They say it was bound in human skin.
Found buried beneath the floorboards of a crumbling monastery—
its pages untouched by time,
its title written in a language no one could read.
But the cover pulsed.
It breathed.
---
Professor Maren, a linguist obsessed with forbidden texts, took it from the ruins.
The moment she touched it, her finger bled.
The book soaked it in—like a sponge.
The title appeared in fresh red:
> "LIBER SANGUINEM — The Blood Book"
---
That night, she couldn't sleep.
The book whispered from the shelf.
Not in words—but in hunger.
She opened it.
Each page demanded a drop of her blood to be read.
At first, she used a pin. A simple prick.
But the more she read, the deeper the wounds had to be.
The pages would not absorb old blood.
It had to be fresh.
It had to be willing.
---
The words taught her things no human should know:
Spells. Names of forgotten gods.
And how to silence a heart with just a word.
Soon, the book wouldn't open unless she gave it a full offering.
A vial. A vein. A ritual.
And she gave it all.
---
Until her students started to disappear.
They'd visit her office… and never leave.
Bloodstains led to the bookshelf.
The book was fatter now.
Gorged.
---
One night, security broke in after hearing screams.
They found Maren collapsed, her arms slashed open, lips smiling wide.
The book lay beside her, open to a blank page.
But under blacklight, the words glowed red:
> "The final offering has been accepted."
Her body melted into the pages.
---
Now the book waits again.
They say it shows up in rare bookstores, always unlabeled.
It calls to those desperate for knowledge, for power.
But if you bleed into it—
It remembers your scent.
And one day, when you're weakest…
It turns the page.
---
Scrawled note found tucked inside:
> *"I learned everything.
I forgot myself.
Do not read to the end.
That's where it writes you."*