A slightly wrinkled letter with gold leafing fluttered in the air as it drifted leisurely to the street below. The envelope itself seemed to shine as the blood red seal reflected the beautiful sunset that sunk lazily into the distant horizon. The letter had fallen from the peak of a seven story apartment building, and was playfully tossed about by the wind for several minutes before it finally landed in a cramped alleyway not far from where it originated. It was still sealed, and there was no return address. The send address was lettered in fine gold ink and slightly loopy professional handwriting, with only a single name written: Mr. Tyler Fullman. The letter seemed to pertain to a matter of some importance, which was made obvious by the fact that on the top flap of the envelope was the word CONFIDENTIAL written in bold lettering, all caps, and flamboyant red ink. The letter inside, had it been read, would have said:

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Dear Mr. Tyler Fullman,

We hope this letter finds you in good health and fortune. We have been notified of your peculiar situation by our mutual colleague, Dr. Thomas Hardwell. We understand that, for a prolonged period of time, you have been experiencing recurring lucid dreams. Due to these symptoms, we find it possible that you have contracted a rare condition we call insomnium. In order to give you in-depth assistance concerning this condition, we formally invite you to visit us at our school on December 7th of this year. A recruiting agent will be dispatched to pick you up on the appointed date.

Sincerely,

Samuel Cartwright

Principal of Junction University

Unfortunately, this mysterious letter would never be read by anyone. By complete coincidence, after being blown about for minutes, the letter landed unceremoniously on the street next to Tyler’s outstretched palm—where he lay, motionless, in a pool of his own blood.