Pages from grimoires, ciphers, and books of the dead — centuries old, faithfully printed, ready to haunt your walls.
No AI art. No fakes. The originals are stranger than anything anyone could invent.



The unreadable and the encrypted. Two hunts so far — the Voynich Manuscript, six hundred years unread, and the Mutus Liber, an entire alchemy told in pictures and almost no words.
Voynich · Mutus Liber
Books that claim to command what should not be commanded — and, so far, every one of them lying about its own age. The Clavis Inferni, gilded on vellum and small enough to hide. And the Compendium rarissimum, which dates itself seven centuries early and warns you not to touch it.
Compendium rarissimum · Clavis Inferni
Remember that you must die. The first hunt is anatomical — the plates Albinus and Wandelaar engraved at Leiden in 1747, where the skeleton stands in a landscape like a figure sitting for its portrait.
Albinus 1747
Star charts and celestial wheels from the centuries when the sky was still being argued about. The first hunt is Andreas Cellarius, who in 1660 tried to settle the argument by drawing it — Ptolemy’s earth-centred heavens, Copernicus’s sun-centred ones and Tycho Brahe’s compromise, a full hand-coloured plate each.
CellariusThe accusation network of the Salem witch trials, drawn from 517 original court documents in the Massachusetts Archives — warrants, depositions, a death warrant. Every line traces to a physical page. Follow Ann Putnam Jr. from her first accusation to her public apology, fourteen years too late.
Real people. Real paper. Told straight — witness, not costume.
Enter the MaelstromMembrandt publishes pages and artwork from remarkable books long forgotten — grimoires, ciphers, the occult, and more.
We track down original source scans and reproduce them faithfully. Real pages, not imitations.
New work is announced only here. Leave an address and we’ll write when something strange is ready for you — and at no other time.