Dear my future self,

After my recent move into father’s old house I have noticed many strange things. The constant purring sound is particularly irksome. However I do not wish to investigate as it may be one of father’s machines which he may need when he returns.

I don’t know when he will be back. He was in quite a rush in his departure and neglected to inform me of the date of his return.

There is one pleasantry to the place, which is its extensive library. I have taken residence within it and I only leave to clean, eat, drink and to put away the groceries which are delivered on a weekly basis. I have debated whether to leave a note for whomever delivers them in order to request certain items. But I have yet worked up the nerve to do so.

I am low on coffee supplies at the moment and I am certain that father keeps some at hand for when he needs it during his work the problem is that this stash would be in his laboratory. Which is in the basement of the house. And I feel like my life is turning into a cliché horror novel.

I seasoned that my slight hesitations were ridiculous and that the lack of caffeine was a far more pressing issue. And so I decided to venture down. At least then I hoped I would get to look at what research keeps father so busy all of the time.

The stairs down did not creak and all of the lights worked, so my apprehensions soon diminished. The lab was lined with work benches which supported a variety of different machines, some of which had lights lit up on them to indicate they were on. The main focus of the room seems to be around a large glass cylinder, taller than myself and coated in a thick layer of dust which kept what was inside of it unknown.

I chose to avoid it.

I swiftly found the supply I needed and reached to get it off of a high shelf. So I did not see the small pest trap and yelped as it clipped my finger. Naturally I shook my hand violently and the trap flew off. And hit the large sphere. It immediately shattered the glass, causing the liquid to spill out onto the stone floor.

This exposed the subject of father’s work, and I was shocked and amazed when I first laid eyes upon it.

A ginger rabbit with white spots on its fur and it has the most peculiar antlers atop its head was slumped in the remainder of the tank. I believe my father has created a hybrid creature known as a jackalope.

I discerned quickly that it was breathing and had a steady pulse before removing it from father’s lab and into one of the spare bedrooms upstairs. I plan to wait until it wakes up until I search for my father’s notes to see what he really has done. I hope it is not an illegal act. I wish the creature would wake up soon.

I am left with many questions.