Lady Pacifca simply peeled aside the tape and turned the bundle so it was facing Aeridani, pulling open the three-part folds and holding the first page up so he had to read what was written. Two words:
Help me.
"N-No..."
Second page: a prayer Aeridani could read later, not now.
Third page: a detailed floor plan of a large building labelled Ground Floor. The words Help me repeated on the lower left hand corner.
"No this, she-"
Forth page: Second Floor. Help me.
Fifth page: Third Floor. Help me.
"Stop-!"
Eighth page: Geographic co-ordinates taken from someone's GPS function on their phone during one of the later, more desperate loops. Access codes and permissions for the Aerilosian Military- sensitive information. Help me.
Ninth page: Kill them, kill them all, Samuel. If I haven't escaped then I can't- kill them, help me!
"They wouldn't do that! They wouldn't escape without-!"
Tenth page: For the love of God, Aeridani, I don't care what you do- GET ME OUT OF HERE!
"VERUNIKA!"
Everything after that was pictures, some drawn with the pen that had bled all over the page, some smeared with hands and fingers. Clocks, dozens of clocks, but there were diagrams and technical information thrown in under the jarring images of bodies flung to the ground or collapsed in corners. Monsters, most of them: creatures with long necks, some with hulking bodies, notes about teeth and beaks and talons, claws and spikes and tails. Details, so many details: the parameters of the cage on the top floor, measurements for hallways, the dimensions of the doors, typical attack patterns for different kinds of monsters, a map of the exterior grounds.
And copious warnings, the constant repetition of the words: do not cross the line. It was painted everywhere, on every page, do not cross the line. Four pages were dedicated to the moss-covered pillars that marked the edge of the haunted property, each one showing a different angle and all of them begging do not cross the line.
Aeridani snatched the pages away from her long before Lady Pacifca was finished flipping through them, but she didn't try to calm Aeridani down or take them back. The nation was pacing erratically, screaming, shouting, crying.
"They left her! They abandoned her! Those bastards I'll kill them all I fucking swear it!" He swore it and he meant it. Lady Pacifica was insulted by her own pathetic reaction to what she was watching, bringing her wrist up and covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve, trying to swallow the sobs backing up painfully in her throat.
"She's alive! She's still alive! They left her!" Was that the worst part? Or was it the fact that Verunika had expected to be left behind? That she'd planned for it? That she'd-
"Aeridani-"
"My wife! Bielosia! They-! They- AAAAAGH!-!" Aeridani was pacing like a caged beast, throwing away the pages and taking handfuls of his hair like he was going to rip it out- and in fact he did, pulling and screaming until Lady Pacifca stood up and crossed the floor between them. She slapped Aeridani as hard as she dared and cut off the screams, refusing to wipe away the hot, uncomfortable tears that slipped down her own cheeks as Aeridani turned, stunned, to look at her.
"Where is your wife?" She demanded, her voice as black as she could make it with the rough lumps caged in her throat and chest. Aeridani tried to look away and Lady Pacifca raised her arm to slap him again, forcing out the answer.
"Hell!" That's right. That was what Lady Pacifca had feared all this time, what she'd been dreading to hear. She wanted Aeridani to say 'Right here.' or 'With me.' or anything that wasn't that word, but it was true. It was true and Aeridani had never wished death on any of her nations as much as she did right then. It would have been so much better for Bielosia to be several weeks dead than... than whatever she was now.
"She's in Hell."
"Don't fucking repeat me!"
Lady Pacifca slapped him again. Harder.
"Your wife is in Hell." She enunciated each word clearly, she drove them like pieces of glass into Aeridani's skin and made sure they stayed there, burning, hurting, festering. And she knew it was the right thing to do, because instead of breaking down into starving, exhausted, gutless sobs again, Aeridani just gave her a look that could have burnt the flesh off her bones. "And you-"
"Don't give me-!"
"And you-!" They were shouting, they were screaming, they were crying but damn them both they were connecting."You are going to bring her back!"
The devil was not going to take Loviniosa's child! The devil was not going to win! The devil was not going to pollute an earnest soul and carry it off to his domain! He was not going to take a descendant of the Empire of Loviniosa, a daughter of the Wizardry of Britannia, a martyr for her family and friends, a shining example for the world- the devil would not have her grandchild!
"BRING HER BACK!"