June 6th, 1924

It had been six days since we arrived in the state of Michigan. This morning, like every morning, I came upon my reflection in the bathroom mirror and greeted the discernible hole in my torso. The gap below my sternum allowed me to stick my hand completely through my body and touch my back when I first discovered it, but now it contained a wild web of elastic, flesh-like tendrils, making visibility and mobility through the opening a tad inconvenient. I plucked at the tight, thick strings that filled the hollowness of my body, smiling at the rubber band-like noise they made in response.

Having revelled enough in my physical state, I continued my routine: binding my incomplete torso, donning the ensemble of a gray plaid suit, tucking my elongated hair into a neat, inconspicuous bun and stuffing it thusly into a hat. I made a final observation of the room to see if I had need of anything else, glancing over at the desk where I had conducted some leisurely experiments with gels and foams the past few evenings, and finally eyeing the revolver laying on my nightstand.

I contemplated grabbing the weapon to defend myself, but wagered that the firearm wouldn't be received well if noticed by the unruly sorts I anticipated encountering on my errand. I grabbed two thin, palm-sized tins from my desk instead and shoved them into my pockets. Making my descent to the hotel lobby, I caught Fanny Normann among plush seats and tables, sitting quietly by herself with a book between her palms.

To make up for its lack of windows, the mammoth-sized lodgings supplied its guests with a visual splendor of large-leafed plants and ferns that sat in all of the dark corners and ominously surrounded the open areas of the hotel. It evoked a sense of malaise much like a tropical forest existing indoors. The large fern sitting beside Fanny actually looked like it was ready to pounce on her, with its drooping fronds and leafy body sinisterly leaning on the armrest. Fanny peered up from her book as I approached her, consciously avoiding contact with any flora.

"What have you got there?" I nodded at the small tome.

"Die Verwandlung," said Fanny with sorrowful ease. "I am revisiting it because Franz passed away recently. His prose consoles me."

"I don't recall seeing anything about his death in the papers." I curiously remembered that Fanny was not proficient in reading English. "Did you receive a telegram?"

"I did not. The news came to me...unconventionally," replied Fanny, uncomfortable. She quickly attempted to change our conversation topic. "Another adventure today, Theo?"

Despite prowling the streets and scraping up as much information as I could through questioning everyone I laid eyes on, I was remarkably unsuccessful in my quest to find the two gentlemen we trekked to the States for. But I put on a gallant act for Fanny nonetheless.

"What can I say? I want to find them just as much as you do."

"With your sleuthing skills, I should hire you to look for Friedrich." Fanny popped a short smile onto her lips before straightening them into a line again. "I do hope you're not exhausting yourself, but just in case, I've taken the liberty of booking us rooms at a famous health resort in Battle Creek next week."

"That sounds marvelous, Fanny. I'm going to see how I can get my foot into a, uh..." I crouched to her ear and lowered my voice, "a popular speakeasy that serves medicinal liquor. I have a hunch that it's something they'd be interested in because of the types of creatures that are reportedly infused into the alcohol, but I hear it's difficult to get in unless you know someone."

Her face was illumined with amusement and concern by the golden glow of the chandelier lighting, and she mustered a, "Please be careful, my friend," before I brushed a kiss upon her cheek and hurried away.

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