The next morning, I woke up; my head was foggy and I felt like shit. I sat up and looked around me. I had been lying on the bathroom floor… why? I looked around and saw that there was a jar of ortho-diethynylbenzene dianion sitting on the counter and a piece of Dark Stalk Paper™ lying on the ground. My memories of yesterday came flooding back to me, I quickly scrambled up, and ran to the mirror. I looked at my throat and it was…perfectly fine? I was confused by what happened to me but, at least my throat was not damaged.
I looked down and picked up the Dark Stalk Paper™ off the ground. There were two strange equations on it. Perhaps I am to solve both these equations and write the answers down? I’ll try it out but, what will happen?
I sat down at my desk and wrote the sequence of numbers on a fresh piece of Dark Stalk Paper™. Nothing happened.
Four days, four hours, and four minutes after I wrote those numbers, my whole body started itching uncontrollably. When I looked down, I could see tiny maggots crawling underneath my skin; hundreds and hundreds of them wriggling and traveling beneath my flesh. I grabbed the nearest implement near me, a spoon, and I dug into my flesh with it. I was madly stabbing and peeling away the skin off my flesh. Maggots came pouring out, there was no end to them. They filled my home and I started to drown in them. Once again, they started screaming numbers I could not comprehend. I felt my eardrums burst and felt the warm blood trickle out of my ears and down my neck. I tried to concentrate and listen through the pain and I then realized— I could not comprehend these numbers because they were larger than infinity.
The maggots had then quieted down to a whisper. I tried to listen to them again but, I still could not comprehend the numbers. My head was too small to fit these numbers inside me. I told the maggots that I am unable to receive this knowledge, and they whispered, “Soon.”
They melted away and I was standing alone in my study once more. I looked down at my body and there was not a single scratch on me. The pain I felt was a distant memory.