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It was Sunday at 10:35 pm and I was late for my tour. Being curator would mean I would have to be prompt in time. The sun had set an hour earlier, and the sky was filled with clouds. The moon and the stars were hidden behind the clouds and the only light I could see was a muted yellow glow coming from within the library. As I briskly walked towards the entrance a tree scraped my arm. Its bony tendrils snaked out from the trunk, seeming to reach for me. The sky was filled with clouds but just earlier this day there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I heard the rumble of thunder and felt a cold breeze sweeping across the entrance, making the leaves lying on the ground flutter and fly about. I hurried inside the State Library after unlocking the door.
The interior of the library looked a lot different at night. The cafe at day looked bright, happy and full of life yet at night it was a horrific parody of the fun and jovial atmosphere of where I usually had lunch. Someone had appeared to have broken into the state library and trashed the cafe. The tables and chairs were pushed to one side of the cafe and were mangled and bent in odd angles. Books were thrown to the floor, and some ripped apart. On the bookshelves all the books were in their places except on one shelf there was a huge empty space.
Entering the library cafe, I picked up one of the books lying spine down, open on the floor. The book was covered in a paper dust cover, designed to look like an old, leather-bound book. Holding it up closely to read the cover I realised it said Laura’s Tale. It was not a book I was familiar with.
On the blurb it said that it was the same book as two in the collection, reprinted so that visitors could read what it said. It said that the two in the collection had special messages written on them. It was definitely strange. Maybe they were going to steal one of those copies mentioned in the blurb! They would probably be worth a lot of money.
I made my way cautiously to the Mitchell Reading Room and as I walked there, I kept glancing about, checking for intruders. Every slight noise the library made caused me to jump in fright. I heard footsteps slowly creeping towards me and heavy breathing coming from what seemed like right next to me. There was no one there, it was just me.
I heard a bump and sprinted all the way to the Mitchell Reading Room. My heart was pounding, and I started feeling dizzy. I knew that the thump would have come from my guide or one of the night workers. Or it was coming from outside. Nothing to worry about.
“Hello. You must be our new curator. I am David Scott Mitchell, and I will take you through the State Library.” David Scott Mitchell said. I turned around, hearing the voice. I nodded, unable to speak. “Shall we begin your tour?” He asked. I assumed he was the guide mentioned in the email I got from my new boss. I nodded once again and started following him out of the Mitchell Reading Room.
On my way out I noticed there was a green circle of the wall with my guide’s face on it and below the face, it said David Scott Mitchell. That is odd, I thought. “Why is your name on the wall?” I asked, having found my voice again. David Scott Mitchell turned around and paused. His mouth was tightly shut, and his eyes were wide open for a second before he calmly replied “I am very important in this library. I have donated my collections to it and know the library better than anyone else who works here. In honour of my input, they put it up. That is all.” I frowned. That was a queer response to my question. Though I suppose it could have been a personal question and he didn’t know how to respond, I thought.
David Scott Mitchell led me through a room where on the floor was a magnificent map of Australia how explorers once mapped it. The map was beige in colour and the right side of Australia was perfect down to each harbour and cove, yet the left side was vague. Merely a curved line indicating a guess of how the coast went. Papua New Guinea and Tasmania joined Australia in another curved line. Painted sea monsters in brilliant colours with snarling teeth and sharp claws seemed to swim around the ocean. Their amber yellow eyes glowed in the low light. I thought one blinked.
He led me up a flight of stairs and stopped right in front of a large black screen. David Scott Mitchell then took a remote out of his pocket and then pressed a button. The black screen softly hummed as the door swung open. He smiled as he saw the shock and bewilderment showing on my face. “It’s pretty cool knowing where a secret passage is. There’s more hidden around here, some I will show you but others I’ll leave you to find them.” David Scott Mitchell said.
He turned around and walked through the entrance and I followed, gazing with wonder at the shelves that lined the walls. I wished I had an extra pair of eyes or more time to look at the displays. I could see a house, a ship, books with bright pictures and more that I didn’t have time to see. The room after the short passageway was disappointingly bare. There was a red rug lying on the floor, an interactive whiteboard mounted on the wall and bookshelves surrounded the wall. It did not do justice to all the secret passageways I read about in books. It was boring and ordinary, I did not think it contained a single secret.
David Scott Mitchell didn’t stop, he turned to the right, walked forward and then the right again and walked towards the hallway with the bathrooms. He opened one door at the very end of the hallway and stepped into a dark abyss.
I blinked yet it still seemed like David Scott Mitchell disappeared. I blinked rapidly this time to try and get my eyes used to the gloom, but it still looked like he had disappeared. Soon I heard a bump and the rattle of keys as the doorway seemed to glow brighter. It revealed a set of steps leading to rows and rows of high shelves. Something about the flickering light made the room seem eerie, foreboding and unwelcoming. I nervously stepped through the metal doorway, half expecting the door to slam shut or a monster to creep up on me.
“This way.” Instructed David Scott Mitchell, who appeared behind me. I nearly jumped in fright. As I followed him down the stairs, I heard whispering surrounding me, not coming from just one place but everywhere. David Scott Mitchell kept a straight face, and I wondered if this was normal for this area.
“Do shut the door, it’s getting quite windy.” A voice said amiably. I spun around to face David Scott Mitchell and under his moustache I could clearly see that his mouth didn’t move. Was there someone else in this room?
“Shut the door.” David Scott Mitchel said. “Who was that?” I asked. “Pamela Lyndon Travers.” David Scott Mitchell replied dismissively. I stood there, mouth ajar, trying to work out who Pamela Lyndon Travers was. “It is rude to have your mouth hanging open and to stare.” Pamela Lyndon Travers said primly. I slammed my mouth shut with a nasty crack and straightened my back. “Perhaps you will recognise me if I call myself P.L. Travers, author of Mary Poppins. Now shut the door!” P.L. Travers continued.
I felt like I was being watched disapprovingly as I shut the door. I could hear a conversation between P.L. Travers and David Scott Mitchell. “Honestly, why they put my possessions in Maryborough is beyond my understanding. I barely remember that place! I still visit there… inspirations, ghost things… you know the sort.” P.L. Travers moaned. I started walking back to find P.L. Travers continuing talking. “I don’t understand the need for secrecy, being a …” she started but then stopped, after looking at David Scott Mitchel, who was glaring at her.
I felt a sense of tension in the air as P.L. Travers and David Scott Mitchel glared at each other then turned to glare at me. Their sudden unease filled the air and tried to smother me. I felt small.
David Scott Mitchell softened his gaze, but P.L. Travers did not. She kept glaring at me as though she had not forgiven me for letting the cold in. David Scott Mitchell turned silently and indicated to me to follow him as he began the tour. “The area you are in now is area L. It is the second safest area of all the storage areas and the one you will work on. The safest is the Mitchell Vestibule and Mitchell Reading Room. You need to make sure none of the artefacts or antiques get out or anyone gets in.” He said.
“Safest?” I asked tentatively. “There are things that lurk here, evil things that I can’t get rid of, waiting for a chance to prey on whoever or whatever they please. Do not enter these places unless you absolutely have to.” David Scott Mitchell warned gravely. Whatever they were, I did not want to meet them.
As we walked through rows of shelves and stacks of books and artefacts, I saw something. A flicker of light maybe. It seemed to flit through the cluttered stacks and piles. "What is that?" I asked David Scott Mitchell. "It's nothing, just the collections coming to life. Is it 11:30 already?" He pondered. There was a clock on the way in. It read 10:35. "I don't think so. The clock said 10:35 on the way here.'' I said. "Time flies by in this section of the State Library. Spookily fast." David Scott Mitchell said, winking. I grinned uneasily but couldn't shake the feeling of something being wrong.
"Duck!" He shouted. I ducked but he did not. The thing swooped straight past me, ignoring the librarian. It was as if he didn't exist. I was shaking so hard that I started feeling dizzy. “What was that?” I asked. “One of those monsters.” David Scott Mitchell said. I shuddered, feeling an icy cold breeze down my neck.
I followed him as he led me through glass cases with stuffed animals inside them. There were owls staring at me with open yellow eyes and strange animals from faraway places, at least at the time they were stuffed. There were kangaroos and platypuses staring at me with their glass eyes.
I screamed as I saw a quokka scratch itself from inside the glass case. “What did you mean by the collections coming to life?” I asked cautiously. “Exactly what it sounds like. The collections are coming to life. You’ll get used to it. They are mostly friendly.” David Scott Mitchell said dismissively.
“Mostly friendly? I’ll change that!” A Thing boomed in a thunderous voice. A dark, slimy shadow slithered down from an air vent. The oily black goo seemed to form a shadowy snake as it crept towards one of the cases.
“Stand back.” David Scott Mitchell growled. I stumbled backwards, watching as the Thing slinked into one of the glass boxes through the keyhole. It slithered around in circles, bleeding into the owl. The whole container filled with a black smoke.
As the smoke cleared, I could see the owl shut it’s eyes. It’s feathers shone an oily black and it’s talons grew and sharpened. It’s beak became oversized and sharpened to become a lethal blade. As it opened it’s eyes, I noticed they were a pool of darkness. Then it began to tap on the glass.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound echoed around the room as the glass began to crack. “Run as fast as you can to the next room. Don’t look back, you’ll slow down. Don’t be afraid, it wants you to be. Just run!” David Scott Mitchell called. I needed no second invitation as I bolted towards the end of the room.
It felt like the storage space kept getting longer but I still ran. My heart pounding, I reached the door and slammed it behind me.
I let out a yelp of surprise as David Scott Mitchell opened the same door I entered through. “What was that? Tell me. I need to know.” I pressed.
David Scott Mitchell sighed. “I once met a young girl on my travels. She was the reason why I left my collections to the government, to give people like her a chance to learn. She loved books and was very bright. I met her when she was on her way back from visiting her aunt in England without her parents. She died on the ship just before she would have seen her parents. A tragedy. That monster… that monster is… is the girl who died. Her soul has never been put to rest. She felt alone and scared and that lead to hate. That hate lead to becoming a monster. This monster.
And now she is in the State Library, trying to find her mother. She thinks a certain pair of books will get her that. So, she will stop at nothing to get herself heard and to find her mother. But the monster inside her will rip her apart before she finds that book. You need to bring the mother and daughter together and to do that you need to find that book. Come on, find out where it is.” He explained.
As David Scott Mitchell opened the door, I let out a gasp of amazement. The door lead to one of the painting galleries. Every painting was alive, ships swayed in an unfelt breeze and people chattered to each other. They looked like real people, yet each brushstroke shone on their faces and made them look unearthly and somewhat ghostly.
We passed an exhibit with Koori Knockout on the front, and I could see pictures of people running about, kicking goals and cheering. I could hear unseen crowds cheering them on in a loud wave of applause.
We moved on, downstairs and past other rooms. all the way to the same place I entered through, near the ruined cafe. David Scott Mitchell looked at the cafe and muttered, half to himself and half to me, “Work of that same monster, this bit, the more human part. Nothing destroyed.” I paused. “But the books are, look.” I said. “Nothing compared to the monstrous part of her. The books are torn in anger and grief. She was looking for the books that were in an exhibit. Most likely she thought one might bring back her mother, but she needs her personal copy, and her mother needs her own copy as well to bring each other back.” David Scott Mitchell explained.
“Come.” He said as David Scott Mitchell led me to an information desk. He grabbed a pamphlet and started looking through it. “Make yourself useful, find the book.” David Scott Mitchell ordered. I sighed and half-heartedly looked through a book on display saying secrets of Laura’s Tale. No luck there.
In a sudden rush of inspiration, I reached for a copy of Laura’s Tale. I flipped it over to read the blurb but there was no luck in that. I skimmed through the book to the last page, the bibliography, and there it was, just as I suspected somewhere in the book had the location, it was written in the bibliography. But the location was circled. The monster had found the book.
I ran over to David Scott Mitchell to show him. “We have no time to lose. The monster has found it as well as the girl. It wants to keep it’s host, it will stop at nothing to keep destroying the collection. Didn’t I mention the owl was torn into shreds the moment the Thing exited it? I hate explaining myself!” He groaned.
"What monster? I thought that the girl was the monster?" I asked. "The monster is one of the monsters that often roam the State Library. It has found a victim and is feeding off her sadness and want for justice. If it loses her, or any of it's hosts then it will disappear forever." David Scott Mitchell sighed.
David Scott Mitchell ran towards a glass wall display and unlocked it with a small, silver key. He opened the wall and stepped into the floor of it, sliding back a panel on the wall. “Welcome to area A. I am deadly serious, be careful.” David Scott Mitchell warned as he stepped through the second secret door.
I edged my way into the display, carefully avoiding the objects inside it. They all looked like they would break if I even breathed on them. As I took a big step up and through the doorway, I felt satisfied that this passageway did justice to all the ones I read in books. The only light came from a few beams that flickered on the ceiling, looking like they would either fall out or go completely dark.
I took a deep breath not to let my nerves consume me, but it was a mistake, as I immediately coughed as I smelt a repugnant, musty stench. Warily, I took a few steps forward, following David Scott Mitchell who had stopped to look at something.
As I came to stand next to him, I saw a model of a theatre. Tiny models of people were positioned to look like they were dancing around the floor. All the paintings and artefacts had come alive so I expected it would move. The model of the theatre was still. “Curious,” Pondered David Scott Mitchell. “It’s still.” He continued.
I picked the model of the theatre up and turned it around. Click. A wooden draw hidden in the bottom of the theatre opened. An ancient paper flew from the drawer. I carefully picked it up and opened the paper. You should have stayed home, it said. I saw eyes glaring at me out of the corner of my eye.
I spun around, my hair hitting my cheek as I turned to face the eyes. The thing, the creature that stood in front of me was a colossal marble statue. The eyebrows looked like they had been torn out of the statue then smashed to form an exaggerated frown. It’s mouth was a torn hole filled with a black sticky shadow. The monster’s black, soulless eyes brimmed with hate.
This time, I wouldn’t run. This time, I would finally make things right. This time… I might just walk quickly away from the monster to find the book, I thought. I almost ran towards the shelves looking. The monster followed me, not fast enough to be worrying but slow enough to be noticeable but unsettling, as though it knew something I didn’t.
I ran towards a big stack of books to look for Laura’s Tale. I ran my eyes over book after book and found two tiny books at the bottom of the stack titled Laura’s Tale. Now to just get them out. I lifted up the heavy volumes and took out the two copies.
“Give them to me.” A small voice pleaded. I turned around to see the statue leaning over me. “NO! DO NOT GIVE THEM TO HER!” Another voice boomed so loud the ground shook. It looked like the statue was being torn in half. One side seemed to try and grab the other in a fruitless attempt to stop it from leaving the statue.
The side that left resembled a small girl in a white frock with black plaited hair and grey eyes. It was the girl David Scott Mitchell mentioned. I looked at him and saw his eyes filling with tears as he sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with a handkerchief. I passed over the two copies of Laura’s Tale to the girl cautiously. I glanced over once again, to David Scott Mitchel, whose face was passive.
The monster took the books and disappeared. Silently. Suddenly. She was gone.
Suddenly a bright light almost blinded my eyes as the monster appeared again, this time with another ghost. The other ghost was presumably the mother who sadly smiled and whispered "Thank you for all that you did. Two hundred and fifty three years I waited for Laura. Thank you."
Slowly they started fading and disappearing into the empty room. The little girl waved at me. I smiled as they faded into the gloom. This was meant to be.
I looked towards David Scott Mitchell, but he was gone, vanished like the girl and her mother. But he wasn't a ghost? Or was he? I thought.
The Twist
I strolled through the doors of the state library and sat on the nearest table. A waiter came up to me and asked, "What would you like to order." "A sandwich and a..." I started but didn't continue, instead I stared at the waiter. "David Scott Michell?! You’re a ghost! You died! I have so many questions, like why didn’t you walk through walls? You can, I assume…" I hissed.
"This is the exact reason why I try not to let people know! What I need to talk to you about is far more important than me being a ghost. My existence is fading! Find me in the Michell Vestibule at the same time as last time. Find me or else the state library will be overrun by things like the monster that took over Laura!" He whispered, slowly fading.
"NO! What happened?" I shouted. People stared at me, pausing their activities. I blushed and stood up. If I learnt one thing from my past adventure it was to be prepared for anything, especially what you don’t expect.
After everyone had gone home I walked into the Mitchell Reading Room but David Scott Mitchell wasn’t there, like he had said. Instead, P.L.Travers was waiting for me at one of the study tables. “10:45. You are 15 minutes late. What were you thinking? The fate of the entire library, possibly the world rests on your shoulders. So you were late! I am starting to think you may like pushing the boundaries of time, anyway enough of this idle chit-chat, oh dear… it’s happening to me too. I hate to say this, but goodluck, you may have to save us all. Don’t mess it up.” She said, slowly fading the same way David Scott Mitchell had.
P.L. Travers thrust a piece of paper towards me. This would have worked if you were early. It said, I sighed and tossed it on a bench. There was something on the back, a map, it also said I knew you’d be late.
The End
The interior of the library looked a lot different at night. The cafe at day looked bright, happy and full of life yet at night it was a horrific parody of the fun and jovial atmosphere of where I usually had lunch. Someone had appeared to have broken into the state library and trashed the cafe. The tables and chairs were pushed to one side of the cafe and were mangled and bent in odd angles. Books were thrown to the floor, and some ripped apart. On the bookshelves all the books were in their places except on one shelf there was a huge empty space.
Entering the library cafe, I picked up one of the books lying spine down, open on the floor. The book was covered in a paper dust cover, designed to look like an old, leather-bound book. Holding it up closely to read the cover I realised it said Laura’s Tale. It was not a book I was familiar with.
On the blurb it said that it was the same book as two in the collection, reprinted so that visitors could read what it said. It said that the two in the collection had special messages written on them. It was definitely strange. Maybe they were going to steal one of those copies mentioned in the blurb! They would probably be worth a lot of money.
I made my way cautiously to the Mitchell Reading Room and as I walked there, I kept glancing about, checking for intruders. Every slight noise the library made caused me to jump in fright. I heard footsteps slowly creeping towards me and heavy breathing coming from what seemed like right next to me. There was no one there, it was just me.
I heard a bump and sprinted all the way to the Mitchell Reading Room. My heart was pounding, and I started feeling dizzy. I knew that the thump would have come from my guide or one of the night workers. Or it was coming from outside. Nothing to worry about.
“Hello. You must be our new curator. I am David Scott Mitchell, and I will take you through the State Library.” David Scott Mitchell said. I turned around, hearing the voice. I nodded, unable to speak. “Shall we begin your tour?” He asked. I assumed he was the guide mentioned in the email I got from my new boss. I nodded once again and started following him out of the Mitchell Reading Room.
On my way out I noticed there was a green circle of the wall with my guide’s face on it and below the face, it said David Scott Mitchell. That is odd, I thought. “Why is your name on the wall?” I asked, having found my voice again. David Scott Mitchell turned around and paused. His mouth was tightly shut, and his eyes were wide open for a second before he calmly replied “I am very important in this library. I have donated my collections to it and know the library better than anyone else who works here. In honour of my input, they put it up. That is all.” I frowned. That was a queer response to my question. Though I suppose it could have been a personal question and he didn’t know how to respond, I thought.
David Scott Mitchell led me through a room where on the floor was a magnificent map of Australia how explorers once mapped it. The map was beige in colour and the right side of Australia was perfect down to each harbour and cove, yet the left side was vague. Merely a curved line indicating a guess of how the coast went. Papua New Guinea and Tasmania joined Australia in another curved line. Painted sea monsters in brilliant colours with snarling teeth and sharp claws seemed to swim around the ocean. Their amber yellow eyes glowed in the low light. I thought one blinked.
He led me up a flight of stairs and stopped right in front of a large black screen. David Scott Mitchell then took a remote out of his pocket and then pressed a button. The black screen softly hummed as the door swung open. He smiled as he saw the shock and bewilderment showing on my face. “It’s pretty cool knowing where a secret passage is. There’s more hidden around here, some I will show you but others I’ll leave you to find them.” David Scott Mitchell said.
He turned around and walked through the entrance and I followed, gazing with wonder at the shelves that lined the walls. I wished I had an extra pair of eyes or more time to look at the displays. I could see a house, a ship, books with bright pictures and more that I didn’t have time to see. The room after the short passageway was disappointingly bare. There was a red rug lying on the floor, an interactive whiteboard mounted on the wall and bookshelves surrounded the wall. It did not do justice to all the secret passageways I read about in books. It was boring and ordinary, I did not think it contained a single secret.
David Scott Mitchell didn’t stop, he turned to the right, walked forward and then the right again and walked towards the hallway with the bathrooms. He opened one door at the very end of the hallway and stepped into a dark abyss.
I blinked yet it still seemed like David Scott Mitchell disappeared. I blinked rapidly this time to try and get my eyes used to the gloom, but it still looked like he had disappeared. Soon I heard a bump and the rattle of keys as the doorway seemed to glow brighter. It revealed a set of steps leading to rows and rows of high shelves. Something about the flickering light made the room seem eerie, foreboding and unwelcoming. I nervously stepped through the metal doorway, half expecting the door to slam shut or a monster to creep up on me.
“This way.” Instructed David Scott Mitchell, who appeared behind me. I nearly jumped in fright. As I followed him down the stairs, I heard whispering surrounding me, not coming from just one place but everywhere. David Scott Mitchell kept a straight face, and I wondered if this was normal for this area.
“Do shut the door, it’s getting quite windy.” A voice said amiably. I spun around to face David Scott Mitchell and under his moustache I could clearly see that his mouth didn’t move. Was there someone else in this room?
“Shut the door.” David Scott Mitchel said. “Who was that?” I asked. “Pamela Lyndon Travers.” David Scott Mitchell replied dismissively. I stood there, mouth ajar, trying to work out who Pamela Lyndon Travers was. “It is rude to have your mouth hanging open and to stare.” Pamela Lyndon Travers said primly. I slammed my mouth shut with a nasty crack and straightened my back. “Perhaps you will recognise me if I call myself P.L. Travers, author of Mary Poppins. Now shut the door!” P.L. Travers continued.
I felt like I was being watched disapprovingly as I shut the door. I could hear a conversation between P.L. Travers and David Scott Mitchell. “Honestly, why they put my possessions in Maryborough is beyond my understanding. I barely remember that place! I still visit there… inspirations, ghost things… you know the sort.” P.L. Travers moaned. I started walking back to find P.L. Travers continuing talking. “I don’t understand the need for secrecy, being a …” she started but then stopped, after looking at David Scott Mitchel, who was glaring at her.
I felt a sense of tension in the air as P.L. Travers and David Scott Mitchel glared at each other then turned to glare at me. Their sudden unease filled the air and tried to smother me. I felt small.
David Scott Mitchell softened his gaze, but P.L. Travers did not. She kept glaring at me as though she had not forgiven me for letting the cold in. David Scott Mitchell turned silently and indicated to me to follow him as he began the tour. “The area you are in now is area L. It is the second safest area of all the storage areas and the one you will work on. The safest is the Mitchell Vestibule and Mitchell Reading Room. You need to make sure none of the artefacts or antiques get out or anyone gets in.” He said.
“Safest?” I asked tentatively. “There are things that lurk here, evil things that I can’t get rid of, waiting for a chance to prey on whoever or whatever they please. Do not enter these places unless you absolutely have to.” David Scott Mitchell warned gravely. Whatever they were, I did not want to meet them.
As we walked through rows of shelves and stacks of books and artefacts, I saw something. A flicker of light maybe. It seemed to flit through the cluttered stacks and piles. "What is that?" I asked David Scott Mitchell. "It's nothing, just the collections coming to life. Is it 11:30 already?" He pondered. There was a clock on the way in. It read 10:35. "I don't think so. The clock said 10:35 on the way here.'' I said. "Time flies by in this section of the State Library. Spookily fast." David Scott Mitchell said, winking. I grinned uneasily but couldn't shake the feeling of something being wrong.
"Duck!" He shouted. I ducked but he did not. The thing swooped straight past me, ignoring the librarian. It was as if he didn't exist. I was shaking so hard that I started feeling dizzy. “What was that?” I asked. “One of those monsters.” David Scott Mitchell said. I shuddered, feeling an icy cold breeze down my neck.
I followed him as he led me through glass cases with stuffed animals inside them. There were owls staring at me with open yellow eyes and strange animals from faraway places, at least at the time they were stuffed. There were kangaroos and platypuses staring at me with their glass eyes.
I screamed as I saw a quokka scratch itself from inside the glass case. “What did you mean by the collections coming to life?” I asked cautiously. “Exactly what it sounds like. The collections are coming to life. You’ll get used to it. They are mostly friendly.” David Scott Mitchell said dismissively.
“Mostly friendly? I’ll change that!” A Thing boomed in a thunderous voice. A dark, slimy shadow slithered down from an air vent. The oily black goo seemed to form a shadowy snake as it crept towards one of the cases.
“Stand back.” David Scott Mitchell growled. I stumbled backwards, watching as the Thing slinked into one of the glass boxes through the keyhole. It slithered around in circles, bleeding into the owl. The whole container filled with a black smoke.
As the smoke cleared, I could see the owl shut it’s eyes. It’s feathers shone an oily black and it’s talons grew and sharpened. It’s beak became oversized and sharpened to become a lethal blade. As it opened it’s eyes, I noticed they were a pool of darkness. Then it began to tap on the glass.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound echoed around the room as the glass began to crack. “Run as fast as you can to the next room. Don’t look back, you’ll slow down. Don’t be afraid, it wants you to be. Just run!” David Scott Mitchell called. I needed no second invitation as I bolted towards the end of the room.
It felt like the storage space kept getting longer but I still ran. My heart pounding, I reached the door and slammed it behind me.
I let out a yelp of surprise as David Scott Mitchell opened the same door I entered through. “What was that? Tell me. I need to know.” I pressed.
David Scott Mitchell sighed. “I once met a young girl on my travels. She was the reason why I left my collections to the government, to give people like her a chance to learn. She loved books and was very bright. I met her when she was on her way back from visiting her aunt in England without her parents. She died on the ship just before she would have seen her parents. A tragedy. That monster… that monster is… is the girl who died. Her soul has never been put to rest. She felt alone and scared and that lead to hate. That hate lead to becoming a monster. This monster.
And now she is in the State Library, trying to find her mother. She thinks a certain pair of books will get her that. So, she will stop at nothing to get herself heard and to find her mother. But the monster inside her will rip her apart before she finds that book. You need to bring the mother and daughter together and to do that you need to find that book. Come on, find out where it is.” He explained.
As David Scott Mitchell opened the door, I let out a gasp of amazement. The door lead to one of the painting galleries. Every painting was alive, ships swayed in an unfelt breeze and people chattered to each other. They looked like real people, yet each brushstroke shone on their faces and made them look unearthly and somewhat ghostly.
We passed an exhibit with Koori Knockout on the front, and I could see pictures of people running about, kicking goals and cheering. I could hear unseen crowds cheering them on in a loud wave of applause.
We moved on, downstairs and past other rooms. all the way to the same place I entered through, near the ruined cafe. David Scott Mitchell looked at the cafe and muttered, half to himself and half to me, “Work of that same monster, this bit, the more human part. Nothing destroyed.” I paused. “But the books are, look.” I said. “Nothing compared to the monstrous part of her. The books are torn in anger and grief. She was looking for the books that were in an exhibit. Most likely she thought one might bring back her mother, but she needs her personal copy, and her mother needs her own copy as well to bring each other back.” David Scott Mitchell explained.
“Come.” He said as David Scott Mitchell led me to an information desk. He grabbed a pamphlet and started looking through it. “Make yourself useful, find the book.” David Scott Mitchell ordered. I sighed and half-heartedly looked through a book on display saying secrets of Laura’s Tale. No luck there.
In a sudden rush of inspiration, I reached for a copy of Laura’s Tale. I flipped it over to read the blurb but there was no luck in that. I skimmed through the book to the last page, the bibliography, and there it was, just as I suspected somewhere in the book had the location, it was written in the bibliography. But the location was circled. The monster had found the book.
I ran over to David Scott Mitchell to show him. “We have no time to lose. The monster has found it as well as the girl. It wants to keep it’s host, it will stop at nothing to keep destroying the collection. Didn’t I mention the owl was torn into shreds the moment the Thing exited it? I hate explaining myself!” He groaned.
"What monster? I thought that the girl was the monster?" I asked. "The monster is one of the monsters that often roam the State Library. It has found a victim and is feeding off her sadness and want for justice. If it loses her, or any of it's hosts then it will disappear forever." David Scott Mitchell sighed.
David Scott Mitchell ran towards a glass wall display and unlocked it with a small, silver key. He opened the wall and stepped into the floor of it, sliding back a panel on the wall. “Welcome to area A. I am deadly serious, be careful.” David Scott Mitchell warned as he stepped through the second secret door.
I edged my way into the display, carefully avoiding the objects inside it. They all looked like they would break if I even breathed on them. As I took a big step up and through the doorway, I felt satisfied that this passageway did justice to all the ones I read in books. The only light came from a few beams that flickered on the ceiling, looking like they would either fall out or go completely dark.
I took a deep breath not to let my nerves consume me, but it was a mistake, as I immediately coughed as I smelt a repugnant, musty stench. Warily, I took a few steps forward, following David Scott Mitchell who had stopped to look at something.
As I came to stand next to him, I saw a model of a theatre. Tiny models of people were positioned to look like they were dancing around the floor. All the paintings and artefacts had come alive so I expected it would move. The model of the theatre was still. “Curious,” Pondered David Scott Mitchell. “It’s still.” He continued.
I picked the model of the theatre up and turned it around. Click. A wooden draw hidden in the bottom of the theatre opened. An ancient paper flew from the drawer. I carefully picked it up and opened the paper. You should have stayed home, it said. I saw eyes glaring at me out of the corner of my eye.
I spun around, my hair hitting my cheek as I turned to face the eyes. The thing, the creature that stood in front of me was a colossal marble statue. The eyebrows looked like they had been torn out of the statue then smashed to form an exaggerated frown. It’s mouth was a torn hole filled with a black sticky shadow. The monster’s black, soulless eyes brimmed with hate.
This time, I wouldn’t run. This time, I would finally make things right. This time… I might just walk quickly away from the monster to find the book, I thought. I almost ran towards the shelves looking. The monster followed me, not fast enough to be worrying but slow enough to be noticeable but unsettling, as though it knew something I didn’t.
I ran towards a big stack of books to look for Laura’s Tale. I ran my eyes over book after book and found two tiny books at the bottom of the stack titled Laura’s Tale. Now to just get them out. I lifted up the heavy volumes and took out the two copies.
“Give them to me.” A small voice pleaded. I turned around to see the statue leaning over me. “NO! DO NOT GIVE THEM TO HER!” Another voice boomed so loud the ground shook. It looked like the statue was being torn in half. One side seemed to try and grab the other in a fruitless attempt to stop it from leaving the statue.
The side that left resembled a small girl in a white frock with black plaited hair and grey eyes. It was the girl David Scott Mitchell mentioned. I looked at him and saw his eyes filling with tears as he sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with a handkerchief. I passed over the two copies of Laura’s Tale to the girl cautiously. I glanced over once again, to David Scott Mitchel, whose face was passive.
The monster took the books and disappeared. Silently. Suddenly. She was gone.
Suddenly a bright light almost blinded my eyes as the monster appeared again, this time with another ghost. The other ghost was presumably the mother who sadly smiled and whispered "Thank you for all that you did. Two hundred and fifty three years I waited for Laura. Thank you."
Slowly they started fading and disappearing into the empty room. The little girl waved at me. I smiled as they faded into the gloom. This was meant to be.
I looked towards David Scott Mitchell, but he was gone, vanished like the girl and her mother. But he wasn't a ghost? Or was he? I thought.
The Twist
I strolled through the doors of the state library and sat on the nearest table. A waiter came up to me and asked, "What would you like to order." "A sandwich and a..." I started but didn't continue, instead I stared at the waiter. "David Scott Michell?! You’re a ghost! You died! I have so many questions, like why didn’t you walk through walls? You can, I assume…" I hissed.
"This is the exact reason why I try not to let people know! What I need to talk to you about is far more important than me being a ghost. My existence is fading! Find me in the Michell Vestibule at the same time as last time. Find me or else the state library will be overrun by things like the monster that took over Laura!" He whispered, slowly fading.
"NO! What happened?" I shouted. People stared at me, pausing their activities. I blushed and stood up. If I learnt one thing from my past adventure it was to be prepared for anything, especially what you don’t expect.
After everyone had gone home I walked into the Mitchell Reading Room but David Scott Mitchell wasn’t there, like he had said. Instead, P.L.Travers was waiting for me at one of the study tables. “10:45. You are 15 minutes late. What were you thinking? The fate of the entire library, possibly the world rests on your shoulders. So you were late! I am starting to think you may like pushing the boundaries of time, anyway enough of this idle chit-chat, oh dear… it’s happening to me too. I hate to say this, but goodluck, you may have to save us all. Don’t mess it up.” She said, slowly fading the same way David Scott Mitchell had.
P.L. Travers thrust a piece of paper towards me. This would have worked if you were early. It said, I sighed and tossed it on a bench. There was something on the back, a map, it also said I knew you’d be late.
The End