The stage is completely dark. The setting is a small crowded room with a bed, bookshelves, and a desk. There's a diagonal wall with a window in it. Books and crumpled up papers are scattered everywhere. Edgar Bookman is seated at the desk scribbling in the darkness as the audience enters the auditorium. He's a well-dressed Victorian gentleman, gaunt in appearance, with gray hair, and spectacles. He lights a candle on the desk to signal the start of the play.
He rips a page from the journal he’s writing in, crumples it up, and carelessly tosses it away. Slowly, the stage brightens and soft sounds of birds start to play. Edgar looks up towards the window, startled by the dawn, and blows out his candle. He stands up from the desk, journal in hand, and opens it to the first page.
EDGAR: My dear reader. My name is-
He stops suddenly as a pair of characters stroll past the room’s window, chatting casually. He stares, stiff and still, until the two pass and it’s quiet again. He adjusts his bowtie and starts again, voice softer.
EDGAR: My dear reader. My name is Edgar Alexander Bookman. The world that you know is not as it seems. If you are reading this now, something is watching you.
There’s a sound, like something subtle in the room has shifted or fallen. Edgar stops reading to look that direction, but after a few seconds of quiet he continues.
EDGAR: I realize I am nearing my end and, should I take my secrets with me to the grave, they are things which mankind may never know again. I am writing this journal to detail what I have seen and done, but I warn you: I study things which would like to see us suffer. Reading this book is dangerous to you and all whom you love. I have lost everything.
The birdsong fades as he reaches the end of the paragraph until everything is deathly quiet. Edgar pauses again. He glances around the room and cautiously continues.
EDGAR: The doors which connect us to the Looking Glass realm are numerous.
Edgar's chair scoots slightly across the floor, moved by unseen fishing line.
EDGAR: Each day people access those doors by mistake, not realizing what they’ve done.
Books and papers shift and fall around the room, at first subtly, but becoming more disruptive as Edgar continues reading.
EDGAR: Behind some of those doors there’s nothing, or at least, nothing of great consequence; but behind others are things wicked, appalling, and beyond anything human.
The lights start to darken.
EDGAR: The supernatural isn’t just around us. It surrounds us. It watches us. It waits for us to open the wrong door.
Books Cascade from one of the shelves suddenly. While Edgar’s distracted, his journal is tugged out of his hands and slides across the floor. He loses his composure immediately.
EDGAR (yelling): Blast you! Blast you! Get out of my house!
The shifting of items around the room becomes more violent. Edgar drops to his knees, searching for his journal among the other scattered books. He can’t find it. The room starts to settle down. He stands up, looking around in frantic anger.
EDGAR: I swear, I swear, I will destroy you myself, even if it costs a thousand lives-
Edgar lurches, struck by an invisible force and the stage goes dark.