I knew the risks, some of them at least. I understood that the molds and fungi in the deep and secret chamber exuded a foul and toxic essence. I knew the understanding of these truths could make one mad, or worse.
Still, my hunger for knowledge, and I admit to a thirst for power, drove me forward. I put match to wick and adjusted the lantern.
Gently, and with trepidation, I opened the cover of the ancient and crumbling tome: a tingling sensation slipped into my thumb and coursed through my body. I began to read. These truths should have seemed fancy, but were undeniable as they burned into my mind and spirit.
My back arched, straining as if my spine might snap. I felt an enormous consciousness force itself into mine. I could form no words of my own, but issuing from my tortured mouth was a torrent of grating and sibilant consonants. “Gk sthqb pdgkkz sstsk!”
It was then I knew the terrible truth. I had lost all control of my vowels.
