But for those who have tired of what this mortal coil has to offer, the Deerton Public Library has an exciting and eldritch new donation option available.
“We call it the Soul Codex,” says Director McGee. “It’s a very simple process. By stepping into the dark circle scryed in Library Sub-Basement B1A1 on the night of a blood moon, you will enable the ley lines that crisscross in sacred geometry beneath our building to do the bidding of powers beyond mortal comprehension.”
During the process, which McGee describes as “going quietly to sleep though the agony of a thousand papercuts,” the donor’s complete life and knowledge will be transferred in its entirety into a specially prepared codex. This book, with infinitely many pages accessible with a simple index, will contain the sum total of information accessible—consciously or not!—to the donor.
“Of course, this leaves their existing body a lifeless shuddering husk,” says McGee. “But waste not, want not! We recycle every bit of that husk through a rigorous program of organ donation for cash and anthropodermic bibliopegy.”
The book, now bound in the skin of its former owner—“you could technically call it autoAnthropodermic bibliopegy if you wanted to,” laughs McGee—is then added to the collection, where it helps the cash-strapped library earn additional income. “The human being is a walking mass of secrets, secrets that people will pay dearly for. Whether it’s gossip or blackmail or even something prosaic like a WiFi password, all is contained in the book. The library is happy to let you look at it for a flat per-minute fee.”
The only limitation, so far, is that the Soul Codicies cannot be checked out. “For obvious reasons, they are confined to our rare book room,” says McGee. “We may eventually begin circulating them, but it will require alterations to our late ite policy! Needless to say, your immortal should would be forever forfeit if you failed to bring the book back.”
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