As a business consultant, my work allows me to meet a lot of people and travel to different countries to make dealings and arrangements for my clients. Talking about experience, I have met and made acquaintance with various kinds of people, each with their own peculiar habits and unusual interests. But if I have to pick of all those experience, I have to tell you a story that is undoubtedly the most curious one.

Around 10 years ago I did a consultation work for a certain businessman in Singapore. He was on his 50's, rich and successful, no need for a care for his living accept for a few amenities to accompany him in his retirement, which he had planned to have in little more than few years. His company specialized in importation of dried fruits from middle-eastern countries, a business that he had started since his late twenties. Now that he was in retirement age, the business was then handled by his two sons, while he acted as the business commissioner. Put it simply, he had plant the seed, lived to see it ripe, and now he's just enjoying the result.

As most rich people do, my client had his own hobbies, and like most of people with hobbies, it usually revolves around collections. And like many others, his hobby was collecting antiques, only that his choice of antiques were quite different. Instead of china or porcelains or things like that, his choice of antiques revolves around things that relate to books, starting from old books, papers, paper-weights, bookmarks and other things that have to do with books. He once told me that he was very fond of books, and I had to say, when he invited me to look at his books collection, it was quite an impressive sight, as his private library filled one small room in his house, complete with comfortable reading table and cozy chairs. People can spend hours sitting and reading comfortably there with hundreds choice of books available.

On one occasion, I was asked to seal a deal with a dried-fruit exporting company in Israel, a new partnership for the old man's company. They asked me to go there on their behalf and look at the necessary paperwork, assess the business on legal and financial matter for last-minute change, and close the deal. I agreed and went to their office to prepare the arrangements on the deal and receive the instructions on how they want the deal done. When we have finished, just when I was about to leave, the old man put his hand on my shoulder, and asked me to follow him to his private office. "I need a few minutes of your time," he said, and so I followed him.

In his office, he rummaged on his drawer for a minute after gesturing me to sit in one of the chairs. He then pulled something from the drawers, which was a tightly sealed envelope, and proceeded to sit in his chair facing me. "I need a favor to ask of you," he said to me. "When you have finished your task in Israel, could you please detour to Kairo and take something there for me?"

This, of course, was not something uncommon for me, as several clients had also made similar requests like this one. You can't help things like this when you're working in small country like Singapore where the sense of kinship is strong and everyone is basically is family. Also, they usually pay for this extra service, and that's not so bad at all for a single guy like me who's saving for marriage.

"No problem," I said. "What do I need to get for you?"

The old man smiled. "You know my fondness for books right? You have seen my private library yourself. Well, this one is not a book, only a simple bookmark, but I have been looking for this one quite a long time, and a friend of mine has finally been able to find it for me. Please take them for me, and give this envelope to him as the exchange." He handed me the letter, which felt empty.

"Doesn't feel like there's anything in it. Care to tell me what's this for?" I asked.

"It's a stamp series," he said. "This friend of mine is a collector as well, he collects stamps. The one in this envelope is quite rare, and I want to give it to him as a token of my gratitude for his effort in finding what I requested."

I nodded. "Alright. I'll make sure to give it to him and bring you back the bookmark."

He clasped his hand in satisfaction. "Very good. Lucky I have you here. You know, what with my bad back and all I can't force myself to take such long journey myself. Of course, I have already made the arrangements for your detour, and I will also inform my friend for your arrival, so you will be welcomed there."

I confirmed my acceptance, and shook hands with him before leaving. Two days after that, I left for Israel for the job.

There's really nothing much to say about the deal part. Needless to say, the business went smooth. The paperwork had already been completed by both ends and all I needed to do was to make sure they were in order and signed them. I did not stay long in Israel and headed straight to Kairo from there.

Upon my arrival, I quickly headed to an address that the old man had given me prior to my departure to Israel. When I arrived there, it's not a surprise to find that it was an address of an antique store. The store contained a lot of peculiar things, like pieces of graffiti, urns, scrolls, bottles, all was strewn around the floor or hanging on the ropes from the beams on the ceiling. I was greeted by a dark but friendly looking man, who turned out to be the owner of the store. When I mentioned the old man's name and told him I was asked to fetch an item from him, he smiled and twirled his mustache.

"Ah, yes yes, he just told me a few days ago that someone will come here and fetch it. Come come, sit, my good sir. Please make yourself comfortable while I bring it to you. I put in safekeeping," he said in a smile, and disappeared to the back of the room.

I glanced around the store with keen interest, but I haven't had time to relish on the sight as the store-owner had returned to the room bringing an envelope with him.

"Here you are, sir," he handed me the envelope. It was unsealed, so I opened and take a look of the bookmark. It was a simple bookmark, with pictures of hieroglyphs adorning all of its' surface, and a face of a pharaoh's mask on the very top. There's nothing special about this bookmark, except that the material of the bookmark feels very old. It feels very smooth to the touch, as if it had been so worn out and used so many times that its' surface had become very smooth.

I thanked him and handed him over the envelope with stamps in it, much to his rejoice. He then offered to take me to a tour around his store, which I accepted gladly. After an hour of sightseeing, I ask leave from him, but before I left, he said to me, "please tell him, do be careful on using the bookmark." He smiled and twirled his mustache again. "It is very… ah, how do you say it, intricate," he added with a mysterious smile.

I didn't really understand what he meant, so I just nodded my head and bid him goodbye.

The next day, on the plane, I set myself to a book I brought to accompany me in the long flight. However, my mind keep drifting back to the bookmark that rest in the inner-pocket of my jacket (I put it there as safekeeping, because it felt very fragile, and I was afraid that the turbulence in my suitcase would damage it). I reached out for it and observed it once again. Why did the old man want this bookmark so much, and what was so special about it that made it hard to find, save for the apparent old age? But then I brushed my thought. That's how it is for collectors, I think. They could find things that don't seem worth a value for others, and gain relish from it. I settled with that thought, and struggled to stifle a yawn. The flight was still hours ahead, and I decided to take a short nap before arriving at the transitory country. Looking at the bookmark, it occurred to me that it might be best to put it inside my book, so as to prevent it from wrinkle. My book is quite thick – an adventure novel – and it would be a perfect place to put the bookmark. So I set it in, marking my reading page, and I relapsed into sleep.

What followed was very peculiar. It seemed I dreamed, and the funny thing was I dreamed about the scene I read in my novel earlier. I felt like I've been put into the middle of the action, and I'm the main character. It felt very real to me that I woke up and realized that I'd only just been sleeping for little more than half an hour. I never really thought that people can have such vivid dream from sleeping just half an hour – and on uncomfortable position at that. But the dream felt very real to me, and upon more thought, I realized that I dreamt on the part of the novel that I haven't read yet.

This of course seemed very funny to me, but I only felt amazed that it could happen. I continued reading after that, and much to my amusement I found that the part I'm reading was very much similar to the dream I had. It made the part felt almost plausible, as if I really experienced it. So I continued reading for a few more hours, until my eyes again felt very heavy and I stopped reading. I put again the bookmark and closed my eyes for a short rest.

And then I dreamed again, and again this time I dreamed about the novel. It felt even more real than before, and I swear I could really feel the smell, the sound and everything I experienced in the dream. And when I – as the main character – finally defeated the king of the enemy, I could even feel the soldiers lifting me up and hear them chanting my name. At that moment I woke up and felt the oddity of the situation. This felt very bizarre, as I dreamed of something that both I read and haven't read, but turned out to be the exact same as the reading? But just then, the cockpit announced that they would make landing soon in Bombay, so I tried to hold the thought off, at least until I have arrived in the hotel and have much more time to think of it calmly.

When I arrived at the hotel, I again took the bookmark and observed it. It didn't seem to have changed, still as ordinary as ever. I tried to think things over, and I decided to read the book. What quite surprised me was the plots in the story were exactly, point-to-point similar to what I had in dream. I could tell what would happen next and what the characters would say in the following page even before I turn it. And the ending of the novel was the exact same with the one I had in my dream. This all seemed very weird to me, and then it hit me that both of the dreams started on the exact same point where I had put the bookmark on. This intrigued me, and though it may sound stupid, I decided to try to prove if my intuition was right. There was a magazine on the bedside table, so I flipped on it until I found a perfect page. It was an article of a certain rock-star just a while ago. I put the bookmark in that page and tried to get some sleep.

Immediately after I fell asleep, I dreamed of being a rock-star, holding a performance in front of thousands of people. I could feel the exhilaration, the smell of firecrackers on the stage, the sounds of a thousand people screaming my name, and the blaring music in my head. I sang and people sang with me, and then I took off my shirt and threw it to the audience. One of them managed to get on the stage and hug me, but she was quickly detained by the bodyguards who were on the stage.

When I woke up, there was no doubt in my mind that this bookmark was the culprit. It seemed that somehow, this bookmark was able to relive – or project – the words of the book in which it was put. It brought me to dream about the novel I was reading, and it relived the moment of the rock-star in action. It brought not only the sensation, but also the smells, the sound, and everything else into the dreamer. Simply put, it lets your soul to experience what you're reading.

So that's why the old man wanted this bookmark so much. I had to say, I was tempted to keep the bookmark for myself. How can't I, as this bookmark was really amazing. I could be inside every story that I want to read. But then again, I can't lie to the old man, and much as I want it, they are my valuable client, and I can't afford to lose my credibility for life. So I tried to brush the thought off my mind and take my much needed rest, trying hard not to think about the amazing bookmark.

The following day, I arrived at Singapore, and I headed straight to the old man's office to report on the deal. They were very satisfied with the result, and thank me for a job well done. As for the bookmark, I gave it to the old man privately in his office. His eyes seemed to lit up when he saw the bookmark, and he observed the thing reverently.

"Yes yes, I have been looking for this thing for quite a while. Thank you very much for bringing it to me." Suddenly, he looked at me with gleeful eye. "Have you…. tried it?" he asked.

I felt that there was no use in hiding it, so I confessed that I have used it several times. He laughed and said, "yes yes, no it's fine. Curiosity is not a bad thing. And of course, it's too bad if you never really know what you were holding all that time, while it in fact can give you amazing experiences you never dreamed of."

I asked, "What is that thing, actually?"

He eyed me, and said, "This, is Pharaoh's Bookmark. I can't tell you the detail, but I can tell you that the hieroglyphs around the surface is not a decoration. It's a spell that allows people to experience imagination coming to reality. It lets you feel what you can only read in books or papers. That's why it's so special. Especially for me. You, of course, know why," he added knowingly.

I certainly realized what it meant. He can experience all the things he had only been able to read in his books. And with hundreds of books in his collections, no doubt what kind of adventure awaited him.

"Yes yes," he said. "A small comfort for an old man who wants to enjoy his time, heheheh."

Of course, I was kind of envious for him to have such amazing thing that he can use to explore the world. But fortunately, I'm not the kind of man who dwells on one thing too much. I put all my experience with the bookmark aside, and continue with my consultation business, and before long I was back on the routine cycle which drove the thoughts of the bookmark from my mind.

About one month after that, I was resting in my apartment after finishing a grueling work when I suddenly remembered the bookmark. I wondered how the old man is doing, and what kind of adventure had he had with it. The whole week had been a stressful one, and I thought if only I had the bookmark, I could use it for entertaining myself. It then occurred to me to borrow the bookmark for one or two days. The old man had already know that I know what the bookmark does, and he had had it for a month already, surely he needs break even for adventure in sleep. So I decided that the following day I would visit him and ask if I can borrow the bookmark.

The next day, when I came to visit the old man, one of his sons welcomed me. However, I could immediately see that there was something wrong. I asked what happened and where the old man was.

"Father is…" he said reluctantly.

"Don't tell me he's…" I said in shock.

"No no… He's alive. But… it is much worse than dying," the son said.

I was confused by his words, but he only said, "come, follow me."

He led me to the old man's bedroom, and when I saw him, I was shocked. The old man's face was whiter than a sheet of paper, the veins in his neck stretched and contracted. His eyes stared blankly to the ceiling, and his teeth clattered. His arms seemed to lock in claw-like position, and his whole body was rigid.

"We found him like this one morning, a few days after your return from Israel. The doctors can't seem to find what caused it, and can't do much to relieve his condition. We only found a strange paper beside his table inside one of his books. We have never seen anything like it from his collections. Could you by any chance know about it?"

I tried very hard to avert my gaze from the old man, and suddenly I realize that the bookmark was on the table, the strange paper that his son was talking about. I reached for it, and turned the book to see what had the old man been reading. Horrified, I immediately understood what had broken the old man's soul when I read the title of the book.

Inferno.

-End-

Author's note:

Hi. This is my first submission. The title of the story is "Pharaoh's Bookmark", by Russell Lee. You can find this story in a book titled "Collection of Singapore True Ghost Story". I once read this book when I was in high school, and this one was the most striking for me. I re-write it because I can't seem to find this story anywhere, and so I write so I can read it again (sounds kinda stupid, I know). Hope you enjoy it.