It was dark outside, that was good, he didn't really want to be seen right now, not while he was uncertain what was going on.

He pulled the hood of his jacket down further, obscuring his face deeper into the shadows, with slow steps he approached the house, it was a small two story house on the outside of the city, dark bricks made up the wall and the roof was covered in black asphalt shingle, all in all it looked exactly like all the other houses surrounding it.

He walked up to the door and moved to knock it but paused, his hand caught his attention, it had turned a ghastly white and there were black runic marks covering every inch of the exposed skin.

He needed to know, he needed to know what they said, he was sure they were words of some sort, he was unaware what language however.

But that was why he was here.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

He rapped his knuckles on the wooden door three times. He paused and listened, inside he heard a faint shuffling and a low cursing as someone hit something in the hallway. Soon there was a light that blinked into existence and poured out of the stained glass windows on either sides of the door.

He heard the chain being fumbled with and the deadbolt being drawn back with a click. Soon the door glided open on oiled hinges, and revealed the haggard old face of an old man that had just been awakened from his sleep.

He looked to be in his mid sixties, with grey hair and a scraggly salt and pepper beard.

“Who's there? Do you have any Idea what time it is buddy, beat it before I call the cops.” he said, before attempting to close the door again. But the man on the porch put out a hand and stopped it.

“What, Tim, you don't even have the heart to help an old colleague?” The old man stopped his movement and looked at the man on the porch, it was however impossible to get a good look at his face with the deep hood and the darkness surrounding him.

“Richardson?” he asked “I had heard you retired early, some sort of medical condition right? How are you feeling?” he changed his tone once he had heard that voice, it was one he had heard many time in the past couple of years that they had worked together on the same campus.

“Well, I am not doing so well,” Richardson indicated to his hood with a gloved hand. “I am wearing this because honestly I look pretty ghastly right now, And I need your help.”

“Come in come in!” he said allowing the man in the house.

“Is everything ok down there honey?” an older woman called from the top of the stairs, she was currently in a nightgown and had curlers in her hair.

“Yeah a coworker of mine came to ask some questions.”

“Ok, but don't be up to late.” she said before disappearing from sight once again.

“Come in, come in.” he ushered richardson into the house and into the study of the house. “So how can I help?” he asked as he sat himself in a plump leather chair that sat opposite from the one that Richardson was sitting in.

Without word he handed over a small notebook.

Tim opened it and started to look through it, he was amazed at the contents of that little notebook inside was a document written in what appeared to be ancient sumerian cuneiform. Composed of sharp triangles and straight lines the writing looked extremely archaic, but also very clean and orderly.

“Cuneiform?” Tim asked looking up at Richardson. “I didn’t know you had taken an interest in the lost languages.”

“It gives me something to do while I wait for my condition to run its course.” he said.

“Ah, that is about how I was when I started, and soon I became a philologist ha!” he looked at the book again. “So what exactly do you need help with?”

“Well, I have translated it to the best of my ability, but I was wondering if I could get you to translate it so I may compare mine to yours, seeing as my version makes little to no sense.”

“Ahh, yes let me get out some resources and I will do that quickly for you.” he stood up and pulled out several books and lay them out on his work table. Before quickly grabbing some paper and a pen. “The good thing about Cuneiform is it a very well documented and there is little to no debate on whether the translations are accurate or not.”

He started flipping through the books, there were three of them, and he worked like a man possessed as he checked something, and scribbled the finding on a spare sheet of paper. After about thirty minutes of frenzied work he sat back and looked at the document he had just translated, it was in all honestly it was only a small part of the document, but he now had enough to see what he was dealing with.

“Amazing,” he looked at the piece of literature that he had just translated.

“What is amazing?” Richardson asked from his chair on the other side of the room.

“This, this document talks about Adapa, one of the primordial beings from Sumerian legend.” he turned around, there was a bright flame in his eyes. “That in itself is not the amazing thing there are many documents about Adapa this one however-” he paused and looked at Richardson. “Well, before that let me ask do you know who Adapa was in sumerian myth?”

“Can't say I do.”

“Ah, allow me to enlighten you then, Adapa is the first of the apkallu, also know as the seven sages, they were a group of mythical beings that first sprung up in hmm, 14th century B.C.” he was growing excited, it was after all his passion. “They were the seven individuals sent by Eu of Eridu also known as Enki, or the god of wisdom.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, the interesting thing about Adapa, is even though his father was Eu he rejected his immortality and instead embraced humanity, living as a simple fisherman even though he was of godly birth.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Why would any man give up anything? It was because of a woman.” he said, giving Richardson a wink. “But even without his godhood he was still sent out by his father along with the other sages to bring civilization to mankind. He was the adviser to the first king of Eridu, Alulim. And if other documents about him are to believed he was a priest and an exorcist.”

“Priest and Exorcist?” he asked.

“Indeed and this is where the document gets interesting, you see this is an exorcist’s writ if I am reading it correctly, or rather it is a sealing writ.” he picked up his newly written document. “In the name of Ὡάννης, -that is another name for Adapa- Lord high priest we stilleth thee, one of the smokeless flame that burn with thought from thy place and thy handywork at the seat of Enbilulu-” he paused and looked up from the paper. “It continues and talks about the sealing and in whose name it is being performed, but that is not the interesting part, it's these two characters right here that interest me.” he ran his finger under two characters. “This literally translates as smokeless flame with intelligence.”

“And that is interesting how?”

“Well, smokeless flame is often how Djinn were described.”

“Djinn?”

“Genies.”

“Ah, but I assume that is a pretty standard part of the sumerian legend right?”

“No, that is why it is interesting, you see there was no mention of Djinn in literature until arabic legends, and those were written thousands of years latter at least. The only spirits the sumerian myth talks about is the Utukku, and they are different from the Djinn, in fact there has never been any direct connection between the arabic culture and the Sumerian, I mean it is obvious the Arabic people are the descendants of ancient sumeria, but culturally speaking it would be hard to tie much of that to the Sumerians.”

He looked deeply at Richardson. “Where did you get this document?” he asked. “This is an amazing work, and the fact that it is so clear and undamaged...”

“I got it here,” Richardson lowered his hood and for the first time that night. Tim gasped in shock and horror as he looked at the man before him.

Richardson’s eyes had sunken in, and were currently glowing a bright orange, his skin had turned a pale and clammy grey color, all his hair had fallen out, and his face was covered in ancient Sumerian Cuneiform. But that was not the worst of it all, his cheekbones had become more jagged, and horns were sticking out of his cheekbones and just above his eyebrows.

“I must thank you, your help has been invaluable,” as he spoke his mouth opened wider than should have been possible, revealing his teeth were sharpened fangs now. He stood up and walked over to Tim, who recoiled in shock and horror. “Thank you, but this is where we will part ways.”

His hand shot out, at some point in time he had removed his gloves, revealing the hand underneath, it had been twisted into a long gangly appendage, that had each finger ending in a talon like claw. And clamped it around Tim’s throat.

“I must also apologize, you see I can not have anyone knowing about me,” he said, and the glowing red eyes lit up, as did the sumerian runes on his skin, and he watched as the man in his hands was lit on fire.

Blood curtailing screams were heard throughout the house as the man died in one of the most painful ways known.

“Tim?! What is wrong?” shouted a woman as she ran down the stairs and opened the door to the study, When she saw the monster holding the charred remains of her husband she fell back in shock. “Wha-” She started.

Richardson dropped the corpse, and it hit the floor with a sickeningly crunchy thud. And he started to slowly walk towards the woman who was in shock still.

“No, please, Don’t!” she screamed as she tried to backpedal away from him…

Richardson overlooked the raging inferno that once used to be the residence of the Hillmans, firefighters were already on scene, attempting to get the blaze under control. Turning away he pulled up his hood, now he knew where to start looking.

He would find out what was happening to his body, now he knew where to begin.