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The Escape

The Escape

Let me begin by apologizing for my lack of updates to the Informatitron. Recently, my assistant in such matters has made significant improvements to the device, making it much easier for me to work with it. I plan to keep the information flowing in the future. Extraordinary events have made my life even more hectic than before, but also much more interesting to readers in the aether, I imagine.

So, I have inadvertently released a supernatural entity into the City. The photonic capture above was hastily made in an attempt to understand just what was occurring. I suspect I have unleashed something most foul into the streets. I must find the entity and capture it once more—but I should begin at the start.

Three days ago, while browsing among the junk merchant’s wares in the Lower Docks Bazaar, I happened upon a well-crafted tool case. It was dusty and looked to be as old as myself, if not older, but something about the craftsmanship captured my interest. The merchant explained that it was locked and he possessed no key. Sensing a deal, I haggled a much lower price than he would have otherwise required. I brought the case to my laboratory and set to work. I was very much looking forward to using it to carry my instruments into the field, replacing my decaying and well-worn leather pouch.

Astonishingly, the case resisted every one of my laboratory instruments. I poked, prodded, and pried, but failed each time to unfasten the latch. I failed to understand what mechanism hold the lid so fast, as there was no visible lock of any kind. In frustration, I threw the case to the floor, planning to kick it into the corner and leave it there with other embarrassing, failed projects.

It was upon impact with the floor that the case cracked open and began to emit a most frightening glow. As is always my first instinct, I made a photonic capture, and in truth, I was much too frightened to take any other action. The realm of the supernatural is not one with which I am comfortable. I had… unfortunate experiences as a child, ones that until recently I was convinced were products of my youthful imagination. That is all I will say about it.

Something within took advantage of the damage to the case and pried its way out. A pale gaseous substance poured forth much like smoke, or perhaps steam, and coalesced into a vaguely humanoid form. Flickers of humanoid shape coalesced within the fog, but faded rapidly. It glared at me with baleful glowing eyes before reverting to a primeval state and flowing out under the window sill into the night. The glow from the box faded, and I have examined it thoroughly since. I can find nothing unusual except for the cracked hinge on the lid.

After this examination, I penned a letter to my friend and old schoolmate, Dr. Finneas Welterschmidt, this world’s premier expert on matters of spiritology. I described the experience at length, as I have here, and sent it with extra postage to hasten its arrival in his hands.

Most alarming, there have been accounts in the papers of a shadowy figure menacing the gentlemen and ladies of the South Burroughs while they take their evening perambulations. I would have ignored such accounts as the products of superstitious minds if I had not seen the escape and even captured it to a plate.

I can do nothing until I receive Dr. Welterschmidt’s reply. If any of you dear aetheric readers have theories or suspicions as to the nature of the thing that I have freed, please share them with me without reservation, no matter how outlandish they may sound. I will entertain all thoughts at this moment.

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Sincerely, Julius T. Roundbottom

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