Where Biske would find it would lay The Werewolf by Pacados, wrapped with care in a fair quality cloth shirt. The worn leather cover was marked with a note, written in coal on a torn square of parchment that read, plainly:Knowledge is power. - Jack
It would be recieved, its words stared at, its pictures reviled. He could stop not reading it, not stop staring in facinated horror at the too-real pictures. A curse indeed.