[WP] Trapped in a library, you decide to read some books to pass time. As you continue to read, you are mortified that every book has a warning followed by the same words. "She's watching us, read book 8.5.11.16. for further instructions.
*****
12:34 AM
I was locked in Central Library. Again.
I had been spending most of my day for the past three weeks at the library in town since my finals were coming up. Away from the buzz, glitz, and glam of school - if I could even call it that, I could finally find an environment conducive enough for me to read and understand.
What about the school environment itself? Trust me when I say that it was and still is a total write-off. if you're someone who wants to do what you went to school for - studying. Between the disturbance of my noisy neighbors either with the loud rock music blaring from their speakers, and the fashionistas, school concerts, or couples showing excessive public displays of affection, the school was just a chaotic place where I could easily get lost in all the debauchery and only regain myself when my CGPA was south of 3.0.
My parents would unalive me if I ever brought such results home. So I got going to the library, and this was the third time I had fallen asleep and gotten locked inside the dark, large, and somewhat creepy building. The librarian was not the first hand they could have employed for the job - actually, she was just a few mistakes short of being grossly incompetent.
Hard of hearing, noise than should be legal for someone working at a library, and most annoying of all - always forgetting to check if the library was empty before locking up and calling it a day, Mrs. Anderson left a whole lot to be desired. Maybe I was just too annoyed b the whole thing to take responsibility for sleeping where I was supposed to be reading, but it had been a long day of reading.
I sighed as I got up and walked around. Turning the lights on at this time would be setting myself up for a scene - not my idea of fun - so I just decided to use the torchlight on my phone and surf through a few books I could read to pass time. I had my charger, and there was an outlet r=near the 'sweet spot' where I usually read, so I was good to go.
Food was something of an issue. I had just a bag of chips and soda that was now warm - more to complain about - but I could endure until the morning. Grabbing the first book, which was Greek Mythology, one of my majors, I opened the first page lazily and was met with a strange warning.
'She's watching us, read book 8.5.11.16. for further instructions.'
That was a first for me. It was written in ink by someone who was certainly a calligraphy expert; with the serifs and curves and perfect italics, I could have easily spent hours appreciating the handwriting. I suspected it was a girl writing to a friend who was in the library too. The library was at least a hundred and twenty years old; the book had been printed in the 1800s, so I guessed two people were using books as a means of communication when cellphones hadn't been invented.
But I didn't dwell on it too long because I had reading to do, and for the next hour, I immersed myself in the book.
After an hour, I felt I had accomplished myself in that subject. The stories were interesting and all, and I was a fan of all that hero and legendary stuff, but maybe I was tired of having names ending in -eus floating in my head, so I went and grabbed the book on Ancient Egypt. That one had a lot of diagrams, as was a much newer reprint. I appreciated the glossy pages, and it surely made for a more enjoyable read.
I read one for about an hour and a half before I closed the book and dropped it. By chance, the cover fell back open and I peered at the first page, on which something was written in a familiar thick ink and beautiful calligraphy.
'She's watching us, read book 8.5.11.16. for further instructions.'
I could excuse the last one, but this time, this one left an impression on me. I had a voice constantly bugging me, telling me that I was the one being spoken to. At that point, I became aware of the fact that save for the light on my phone, everywhere was dark and I was alone.
There was an eerie silence, and the air in the room felt heavy as lead. At this point, I didn't mind turning on the lights, but I was more afraid of what I was going to see if I even moved from that position than what the scene would do to my reputation. But I had to move nonetheless because I wanted to know who 'she; was and who the 'us' referred to.
I knew how to read that index, so I went straight to the book in question. It was a remarkably slim book with a hardcover. No title, no book jacket, and yet the book felt heavy in my hands. Like the contents held the very key to life and death.
I opened the book and in it was a mirror. The light was flashing in the mirror so I couldn't see anything clearly, but I thought I saw the outline of something behind me. Turning back sharply, I saw no one.
Fine.
Just my paranoia.
I turned back to the mirror, and with my torchlight still facing back, I could feel my heart stop when I saw my reflection, and the figure of Mrs Anderson standing behind me, a crooked smile on her face.
*****
END.
Ack- that was creepy but lacked the build up!