19 October 2022, Week 1: Spooky setting

Like dark gods, the tall Ionic columns loomed over me in disapproval. I tried to blame my trembling on the icy breeze which whipped across the path, and not the sinister shadows which seemed to watch me from somewhere just beyond my sight. A waning sliver of argent moon hung in the sky which on this night resembled a cosmic leer. It smiled knowingly down from the heavens. I strode quickly up the steps, wincing as the tap of my boots on stone broke the misty silence of the night. Out of the corner of my vision, I saw a shape move. It’s just a shadow, it’s just a shadow, it’s just a shadow, I frantically told myself as prickles raced up my spine. It’s just a shadow, it’s just… I caught the briefest glimpse of an eye, flickering in the pale moonlight. It shone in the moonlight, slit-pupiled and tawny yellow. I gulped. Certainly not a human eye. Quickening my pace, I scurried up the steps and gently pushed open the ornate doors, grateful that the hinges were well-oiled. I glanced behind me but could see nothing but the unnaturally silent street. I was happy to put the choking fog behind me as I stole into the darkened Mitchell Vestibule. In books lies the soul of the whole past time - the articulate, audible voice of the past when the body and material substance of it has altogether vanished like a dream. The haunting inscription was the first thing my eyes fell upon and it chilled me to the bone. One day, I too would vanish like a dream, and that day felt closer and closer as I came closer and closer to the heart of this library. I shivered, turning my gaze away from the words and taking in the grand room around me. More columns once again glared at me as I slowly entered the Reading Room. I sank down into a wooden chair. This seemed as good a place as any to finally plot my course of action. I didn’t need the eldritch tugging in my gut to tell me that this was the place I needed to go - the notes had done that already. But I did need to know how to find the sender - furtive sneaking seemed more comfortable than strutting through the halls, but if I was caught- “Hello.” I spun around, shocked. The voice had a purring quality to it, almost languid. My own heart was racing - surely anyone I met in the library at this hour would be just as shocked as me. Surely it wasn’t a regular occurrence for people to be prowling these halls in the dead of night. “Who are you?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady as I glanced frantically around the dim room, searching for the source of the voice. “I have had many names,” replied the dry voice. “My current one is Grimalkin.” And then, the speaker stepped into the patch of silver thrown by the skylight and smiled with a face that was decidedly not human.

1 An Unexpected Visitor The clock had just struck midnight. Why on earth would a mystery door-knocker be knocking on my door?! I covered my ears and tried to ignore the knocks. But they just kept getting louder. I tip-toed down the stairs and opened the door. But no one was there. Just a piece of paper on the welcome mat. It read: Angus, Good things will happen to you if you meet me at the State Library tomorrow night. Good things such as lollies and love. Be there when the clock strikes midnight. See you there, Tobias B. Senyard. It was creepier than last Halloween when all the kids were dressed up as vampires and werewolves! But that was then. This was now. I had been left with a tough decision. Should I go or not? Should I trust my old schoolmate or not? It had been ten years since I had last seen him. Maybe I shouldn’t go. But I did… ****** The tall sandstone building of the David S. Mitchell library was staring at me. I suspected it was staring at me because I was staring at it. The library seemed to be saying, “Come inside. Come closer. You know you want to…” I started to get the feeling that maybe I’d made the wrong choice. But I had come to far to turn back. I took a step closer to the building. Then another. And another. Before I knew it, I had climbed the shallow steps toward the State Library. I jumped in fright as the clock tower across the road rang twelve loud bells. It was midnight. The tall wooden doors in front of me had old, chiselled images on them. They looked as if they were… alive. Okay, definitely the wrong choice. I wanted to run back to 99 Cook Street, but my feet were glued to the ground! The old doors suddenly creaked open. By themselves! I could see a vast tiled floor with a weird looking map on it. Above it, there was a railing with a clock on it. A pair of double doors stood right in front of me, only about 5 metres away. I had no idea whatsoever where they lead. I gulped down the huge lump in my throat and tip-toed cautiously to the doors. Old dusty writing was carved upon them. It read: David S. Mitchell Reading room I pushed them open and I was greeted with thousands of dusty old books all lined up neatly on the huge shelves. There was old frayed carpet underneath my feet, a perfect home for cobwebs. I swallowed hard and walked forward nervously. I had only walked a few paces when, “Oi! Look where you’re goin’!”

Chapter 2 Axel lay awake in bed. Dinner had been a quiet business, with scraping spoons and forks. He had read for the rest of the time, and now he was supposed to be sleeping. But he wasn’t. Suddenly, Axel felt a rustling at his sleeve! He jerked up, and grabbed at…a strip of old parchment. As he looked, words started appearing in the moonlight. ‘Human. Time is short. The bane of knowledge is free. And it wants revenge. Your ancestors used to be great. I just hope you are to. Come to the Mitchell library. More will be explained later. What are you doing, just lying there? Get up! The world and all in it are depending on you!’ Axel sat in the moonlight, contemplating his decisions. ‘Well, if this is true, and I don’t go, then we’ll all die apparently,’ he muttered. ‘If it’s false, and I go, then what is there to lose?’ Axel jumped out of bed, and ran to the window, and threw it open. He climbed onto the gutter, and slid down. Soon, he was at the ground, and he was running toward something that would change his life. Forever. He knew the path to the library well, and he knew the quickest shortcuts there. Soon, he was at the library. It looked different in the dark. The Mitchell library cast a deep shadow over everything around it. a shadow so deep, it seemed to be a dark void. Axel sneaked up the stairs, and came to the door. He knew it must be locked, but he tried it anyway. Instead of opening, the door melted away into nothing. He stepped through into the Mitchell Vestibule, and the door reappeared, putting him into complete darkness. Or almost complete. A light was coming from the reading room, through the archway. Voices also came through; voices he didn’t understand. Then suddenly, the voices snapped into focus, and he could hear what they said. ‘E won’t come,’ a deep male voice said. ‘The big uman brute. All of em are like at. Brainless.’ ‘Oh, he will Balg,’ said a higher male voice. ‘we’ve been sending him to many mind warps for him to not come. ‘I agree with Niggles,’ said a female voice, ‘the boy will come. In fact, he’s here now. Axel, come down please.’ Axel stepped into the light, and slowly walked past the bookshelves to the stairway. The rail cast a shadow that made Axel feel like he was in bars. Then, he looked toward the light, and his jaw dropped so far it could have fitted an adult human. The light he had seen had come from a candle in what looked like a human’s skull. But that wasn’t what made Axel gape. There were three figures on the table…the ones that had been talking. They were small, and bent over. Their hands were small, but their fingers and arms were long and thin. One of the little creatures had a long red beard, straight red hair, and bushy eyebrows. Another had a very droopy, long moustache, droopy, drawn eyes, and a hat with a bobble on the top the size of his head. The final one had blue eyes, a pink dress, and long, curly hair. ‘Well, what you doing, boy?’ the red head said, his voice indicating he was Balg. ‘The world is at stake, and oe stand ere looking like the idiot you are. Come on en, the Bane of knowledge is still out ere! Get going!’ Then, to the one in the pink dress, ‘e’s stupider an e looks, Kelk. Oe sure this is e one? I say we kill im.’ At that, Axel fainted.

The dark inky sky hung over the peaceful village. The lamps flickered casting shadows onto the slimy cobblestones. As the first flakes of snow started to fall, a girl arrived at the library. She was no ordinary girl. She was a girl with a mission and her name was Raven. Raven stood at the doors of the library as she admired the architecture. A thin sheen of white covered the windows. It's sandstone pillars loomed above her. Raven pushed open the creaky mahogany doors and sat in a chair. The library was eerily quiet. She was about to grab a book off the shelf when the hairs on her back shivered. She was not alone. Slowly she turned around and in front of her was a ghost in a top hat and black cloak. That was the last thing Raven saw before everything went black.

Yes, I was here again. A bitter smile hung on my lips as I stood in front of the train station. The lights flickered time to time revealing the truth that the station was long from new. I don't know how long I stood there but it must have been an hour for another train had stopped by to empty out a sea of passengers. I was consumed by a wave of chatter as people went about finding destinations like scattered ants. I took a breath. Putting my head down, I walked out of the dark metro station and braced myself for some painful memories. The last rays of sun danced across the sky in ribbons of pink and yellow. I stopped to tug at Mum's sleeve. "Will we go back to Aunt Marie's house again? She said I could help for Christmas" I looked up at her with pleading eyes. A smile played on her lips. "Of course. I promise." Mum whispered into my ear. But her promise was useless for she died before she could fulfill it. I was breathing heavily as I leaned against a lamp post. How long had I been standing there? Darkness had enveloped the town and everything was quiet except for the occasional cricket chirp. I ran through the street holding my breath when a rock skidded or a leaf rustled. Turning a corner, I reached the library. At night, the sandstone pillars were almost silver as the moonlight reflected on them. My sight clouded as tears threatened. This was the last place I had been to when I was at the town. It was 8 years ago. 8 long painful years. Just trying to get out of bed was a struggle. Every day was drained of happiness after Mum died. It was like I was falling through a never ending abyss. I walked towards the door. It was bolted shut. I suddenly felt foolish. Had I expected it to not be? Scolding myself, I scoured the building trying to find a way in. Underneath the windows, a tiny gap was there. Heaving, I yanked it open pushing myself through. I held my breath as my feet touched the ground with an echoing thud. I had landed right in the Mitchell vestibule. It was eerily quiet, only my heavy breathing could be heard. The marble floor was dimly lit through the windows. Something felt wrong. My heart thumped in my chest, each breath excruciating. I finally found the courage to venture deeper into the library a few moments later. Each of my footsteps stemmed to echo around the building. Something brushed against my foot. I froze. A cat sat near my leg. It looked up at me with a piercing red gaze that sent shivers down my spine. It's voice echoed in my mind. "Hello Rhiannon." A bright light flashed before my eyes sending me sprawling across the ground. The world spun then went black.

As I snuck into the libary I senses something was not right.A death freezing quiver slithered down my spine like a slippery python. Once I entered the libary, the horrible feeling attacked me once more. The bright moonlight glinted through the glass panes on the roof and the stain glass panels of the wall. I went into the reading room as I felt a distinct yet clear and determined voice that urged me to the reading room. "Relase me" suddenly said a mysterious voice in my head. I was taken by surprise, then I felt the urge to dash out of the libary and never come back again. "It is because of your ancestors that I am trapped. And only you can free me." The voice howled, it sounded sinister and powerful. But there was a hint of sorrow in it. I had a pang of sympathy come to me and I wanted to help whoever was speaking to me. It was the middle of the night in the old and enormous libary with the walls lined with old, thick books. I want to get out of the libary. I don't care about this mysterious voice wanting to be released. It's all a trick. "Please don't leave me alone. You're the only one who can help me." The continuous voice pleaded. "How can you read my mind?" I half whispered as I couldn't trust myself to speak. "Oh, you haven't hear of me then!" It said sounding surprised. "I'm the one your great grandfather imprisoned using the magic object passed down to him. He turned me into a carved lion in the wall." Then why am I the only one that can help you, I thought. "Bcause only the first born of every generation of your great grandfather can undo the spell if they find the enchanted object David Scott Mitchell, your great grandfather used to imprison me into a carving into his libary, reading room. I shall be free. But your grandfather and father would not oblige to help me although a called them to the libary and pleased with them. Now you are my only hope. You decide if I can get out of the spell your wicked great grandfather put over me.

~THE CRY OF THE NIGHT~ CHAPTER THE FIRST Ryan was not sure how long the night had been crying. Could have been weeks, could have been months. Maybe it’s all just in his head. But for as long as he could remember, the night cried out like hundreds of souls were trapped with nowhere to go. He shifted between the various objects in the boot of the car, trying to find a comfortable position. He didn’t. It had been like this for the last few weeks after he ran away. His method was simple: Hop on a car. When the car stops, run into whatever place the car brought you to. Find a hidden place to rest and store whatever crumbs of food you have. Manage the hideout to be more homely. Remember the spot, and then go find some food. The only reason he moved from his old place was because he was caught trying to steal some food, and was chased by the police. He didn’t have time to grab anything from his hideout, so he was back to square one. Even though the case ended half an hour ago, his heart was still hammering away at his ribs. It was so loud that he was beginning to worry that the driver would hear it. The car swerved and skidded. Whoever was driving was not very good at their job. Bang! Suddenly the car went over a speed bump, and everything was jostled. It was barely anything, but for Ryan squashed between a bunch of random objects, it hurt. Something metal slammed into his forehead, and before his brain could retake control of his mouth, he cried out. “OW!!” He yelped, and clapped his hand over his mouth. But it was too late. Ryan felt as the car slowed down and stopped. He heard the car door slam as the driver walked over to the boot… Okay, thought Ryan. You’ve done this before. Leap out of the boot screaming. Maybe push someone over. Big. Threatening. He could hear the footsteps getting closer and closer… Finally, the boot opened. “ARRRR-“ Bellowed Ryan, throwing his arms up. The driver yelped and threw a sharp punch at Ryan’s jaw. His bellow turned into a cry as he tumbled out of the boot clutching his mouth. “Oaaahhh.” Moaned Ryan. “Whuh yuh doo daaat?” Then he looked up into the bright green eyes of another child. He bugged out his eyes, opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. “Whuh yuh doo daaat?” He mimicked in a funny tone. “Uh, first off,” He said, in his normal voice, “I didn’t hit you that hard. Second, you just jumped out of the boot of my car screaming your head off. I think I can be forgiven for letting a fist fly.” “Your car?!” Ryan said. The boy smirked. “Okay, granted, it wasn’t mine to start with, but it is now.” So that’s why he was such a bad driver! Thought Ryan. He barely knew how to drive! The strange boy grabbed Ryan’s hand and pulled him up. He looked at Ryan for a while, seemingly deciding wether to trust him or not. “Name’s Martin. What’s yours?” He said finally. Ryan gulped. “I’m Ryan. Are you homeless as well?” Martin barked a laugh. “I barely know the definition of the word home!” He exclaimed as he climbed back into the car. “I’ve been an urchin as long as I can remember.” He said, climbing out of the car with a tattered bag. “Right.” He said in a commanding tone. “Let’s go.” Ryan was confused. “Go where?” “Anywhere.” Martin called over his shoulder. The duo walked for quite a while. Eventually, they passed a large building. A sign stood a few meters away: “The State Library Of NSW” Is what it said. As they drew nearer to the Library, Ryan felt more and more uneasy, as if something was trying to force itself into the workings of Ryan’s mind. Suddenly, it felt as if Ryan had this struggling form in his mouth, like he had just eaten a large frog. He opened his mouth, but instead of coughing and retching, he said, “Hey, Martin. How about we sneak into the library and rest in there? It’s open to the public, and we won’t be constantly battling the elements.” Martin thought for a moment. “Hey, that’s not actually that bad of an idea.” Martin strolled briskly past and disappeared into the state library. It was a clear and quiet night, but Ryan could still hear the mournful sounds of the night crying out into the blackness. The State Library seemed ominous at night. It was completely dark, and quiet. Way too quiet. The massive columns looked like teeth, and the windows looked like eyes, like the library was gnashing its teeth at him. The gargoyle on top of the roof seemed to be glaring at him… Wait. Gargoyle?! There was no Gargoyle there before! Ryan’s head snapped around to look at the gargoyle, but it had disappeared. He heard an odd flapping noise above him, and a horrible, rasping screech. The pushing feeling at his head, like something was messing with the very workings of his brain was back again. He grimaced and massaged his temples. Suddenly, an agonising streak of pain burned up his spine. His head throbbed one more time and then… It stopped. He surveyed his surroundings again. It wasn’t so bad. The library didn’t look aggressive. The columns looked like teeth. A big, jolly smiling mouth. And as for the gargoyle and the flapping noise and the screech… An owl. It was an owl. Ryan chuckled at himself for being so silly. What was he doing dawdling out here when there was so much fun to be had at the library. “Martin! Wait for me!” CHAPTER THE SECOND “This looks like a good place.” Said Martin as they entered a large, grand room. It had long desks and tables lined up with a few computers sitting on them, and around the edges rows and rows of books. Ryan didn’t know it, but this was the Mitchell Library Reading Room. “This place looks pretty cool.” He remarked to Martin. “Yeah.” Muttered Martin. His head was throbbing again-and the sobs of the night were even louder-he wondered if these things were connected. Suddenly, he felt that strange, frog-in-mouth sensation. He tried to resist it, but it didn’t work. “How about we look through the library, like we give ourselves a tour, and then decide which room we should sleep in?” He blurted. Martin scoffed. “Bro, this place has a million rooms.” But Ryan still thought it was a good idea, and now he found himself wandering the hallways. He came to a door marked ARCHIVES, and stood there, listening. The cries of the night seemed to be coming from in there. Ryan shuddered. He didn’t want to go in there. Who knows what lurked behind that door. But… then again…it would be nice to discover the source of the moans and groans that kept him up at night. Yes, it really would be. Ryan opened the door and stepped inside. It was dark and spooky in the archives, and all he could do was wonder along the endless rows of shelves and chests. Finally, he came to the end of the aisle. He was just about to swing to the left and go into the next aisle, but something stopped him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. He suddenly felt so sad, and so lonely, that he could simply curl up somewhere and cry and moan, and it wouldn’t matter, because no one would hear him. He slowly turned around… And what his gaze fell on would change his life forever.

Secret of the silent librarian Chapter 1 Mystery of time “And this is the sydney Harbour bridge.” I yawned, as my teacher listed all the possible ways to bomb the sydney harbour ( seriously, who would do that?)We were on the bus heading to the state library. The weather was storming. I was excited, not because of the two million books but because I could sneak away to the look at the interesting collection. When we arrived I was the first one to get out of the bus. There it was, standing solemnly in the rain. The large building looked sinister in the rain and storm. By this time the class should’ve gotten out. I looked back, the bus was not there! Then I looked at my apple watch, it was exactly 12:38pm. Of all the peculiar things that happened to me this was the most crazy. Running to the entrance I noticed something, a murder of crows. I approached the door. With simple pull of the door handel I was in the library. Chapter 2 Mr david scott Mitchell Advancing towards the Mitchell reading room I felt scared. Goose bumps were creeping up my arm. This was not good. Every step I took, the courage inside me lessened. After what seemed like an hour of creeping toward the reading room I was there. Everything seemed normal until I saw the shelves. Books were arranging themselves, gliding through the air. The books all seemed dead. A sort of wispy mist energy was being channelled from a unknown hand. This was very, very bad. Then I saw a figure suspended in the air. Its form was flickering like a candle. The exquisitely patterned ceiling was glowing as if it was blessed by thee figures presence. The figure was gliding very slowly, using the mysterious energy to arrange the books. Suddenly he spoke, “I am expecting YOU Miss Molly Mcguire.” He spoke quite calmly. His voice was ringing in my head. “It is time” he continued. “I am Mr David Scott Mitchell, you will refer to me as the silent Librarian.

Call I wouldn’t call it a longing or a call. More of an insane action you do, when you're freaked out and shelter is the spooky library at night. Sorry, I have to use high tense words as my teacher says. The super-natural library. My vivid imagination is why this story is very bone chilling. I was desperate, we all were desperate. Especially my teacher. She had just gotten her hair done and didn’t want it ruined. So after the six painfully long hours we spent wandering the library, we returned five minutes later as a sound breaking storm loomed over us. I looked up, my heart racing. The stone cold arches loomed over us entwining together as the shadows danced across the ceiling. The large doors stared down at us daring us to come into the ghosted library. I pushed to the front of the group, towards the door and out of the night. I stared up at one of the reflecting windows squinting in. Then a flash of lighting lit up the window a silhouette of a hunchbacked man. Staring at me. I suddenly hated being in the back wanting to scramble from this ominous library. Then the doors swung open, screeching in the darkness. As a sea of students swept through the door I creeped inside. Then I felt the call. Guide: very unique guide! I separated from the group, something drawing me to the staircase. The darkness engulfed me, settling on my skin. But I kept walking, my shoes clicking against the marble floor. The decorated floor swayed beneath me all I could hear, feel, see, was the call. The last of my classmates disappeared around the corner. I didn’t hesitate. The call wanted me. Then something hit me. Literally. I crashed to the ground. I breathed ragged long breaths. In the shadows, there was a movement. I could see an outline of a starving dog. No, it stepped into the light. How. In the library. A dingo. It took rasping huge breaths, I could see the outline of her bones. She was hungry. Her dusty sand stroked coat memorised me. She had intelligent eyes. I noticed. Right before she lunged at me. The dingo pinned me down, claws outstretched, on my throat. “Why are you in the Library? He'll get you.” She growled threateningly “you're the first person I saw”. She could talk. What the? Sizing me up she grunted her disapproval. “Now I have to be your guide, the names Leona” Mitchell Vestibule Room “What, how, no, I…urrr, YOUR A DINGO. IN THE LIBRARY!”I splutter. “ Wow thanks for noticing, '' she muttered sarcastically. I stared at my shoes. Breathing in deep breaths. Tears formed in my eye, I used to have a dog. He had looked like Leona, except less Dingo. I force back the tears and stand up. Staring down at the sarcastic dingo. “What did you mean guide?” I question, remembering what she had said earlier. Leona opens her mouth, taking in small breaths, then a crash emoted from the Mitchell Vestibule room. Leona sprung up, bounding towards the noise. I run after her, panting as I enter the room. I look around the room. The beautiful stone arches glow white. The decorated floor seemed alive with a story. I look at Leona. Her eyes are wide open, in fear. She’s staring at something on the floor. I follow her gaze. To a stain on the floor. A blood stain.

The whole town for centuries has created ridiculous rumours. I mean, another ghost!? That’s like the gazillionth ghost we’ve heard so far. So I’m going to prove there is nothing to fear. In the dead of night, I crept past my parents trumpeting snores. I had arrived at the gate of the New South Wales State Library. Lightning thrashed behind my back sneakily. BAH! This is nothing! The moon revealed rows of sharp teeth in sight. The gate danced in the wind shivering me to the bone. Bat’s screeched in my ear, brushing my dripping forehead. Get a grip! I told myself in an instant. I tip-toed through the creaking door. Eerie whispers gripped onto me the entire time. “You’re here to prove this place isn’t haunted! Not be a scaredy cat the entire time!” I reminded myself. A shadow loomed over me as I flipped around. ARGH!!!!!!! There standing before my very eyes was a ghost hanging in mid-air! “Hello there! I’m your guide to the-” it began. Why had I suddenly stopped? I had fainted. When I came to, the piece of glowing sheets was still there. “Why a-are you h-here? Are y-you here to k-kill m-m-me!?” I whimpered. “HA HA HA HA!!!!” it laughed. It kind of reminded me when clowns laugh like a total maniac. Anyways, the ghost still hadn’t answered my question! It explained that it was the ghost guide of the Library! I was in shock! For years, I had believed ghosts weren't real. Now, I had met an actual ghost in the flesh! Well not really in the flesh because they're already dead. Suddenly, the etching of a ship was rising out of the ancient floor! It was truly an amazing sight. “Ah…Here’s our ride! Well then. Hop aboard!” the ghost exclaimed in glee. With caution, I climbed the rickety ladder onto the phantom-like ship. I was surprised it could still float around the entire trip considering its many holes. We passed the Mitchell Reading Room which was much of an interest to me.

New South Wales. I hadn’t been here for four years, ever since “The Fall”. Ever since I took an oath to never come back to this place. At that time I thought it would be impossible to get from Melbourne to Sydney all by myself. But now as I stand here, 878km away from home. I wonder how I did it. How I found the courage to break the oath and take one train and five buses to get here. If Mum was here she’d ground me for eternity, but she’d also ask me why. And the answer I will give you now. Someone had called me. But I do not know who. Why me? Why now? Why here? Unless … No. It couldn’t possibly be. I refused to believe it. She was dead, and only someone alive could’ve called me here.. I shook my head. And lifted my chin. Whoever had called me, I would face whatever had called me and then I’d return. I tiptoed up the steps, falling once when I wasn’t paying attention. Then I reached the doors. They were open. I pushed them open an inch wider and squeezed in. In my mind I had imagined someone to be waiting for me. Turns out I was wrong. The library was empty. I crept in further, taking in the scene in front of me. The marble map of the world on the floor, the marble and glass case with an ancient banner. And the balcony, I shuddered, memories flooding my eyes. Maggie noticing the map for the first time. The man creeping up behind her. Then Maggie screaming as she fell. Then silence. The memories in my eyes became tears. But I wiped them away. I wasn’t here to remember. I was here to find the person who called me, then leave. I walked ahead. Into the doors of the reading room. Where, even in the silent night, everything in that room was screaming for me to leave, to go home. But I continued walking, until someone coughed. I froze. I was 99% sure that no one else was in the library except me. I turned slowly, quickly coming up with excuses in my head for why I was in the state library in the middle of the night. Then I screamed. Because there, right in front of me was a ghost. “We’ve been waiting for you, Hillary.”

Standing miserably on the cold sandstone path that surrounded the Mitchell Library, the white, mysterious glow of the moon shone down on Ronan Richardson’s back, as he stood there, waiting. The time was 11:57p.m., when the streets were deserted, and all you could hear was the odd car zooming past, the distinct sound echoing through the alleys and corridors between buildings. Looking at his pocket watch, Ronan continued forward purposefully, slowly, and gradually ascending the yellow stairs, to the grand entrance of this architectural masterpiece. With the solid wooden doors standing proud and tall in front of him, Ronan slowly edged the doors open, creeping inside, without setting off any unnecessary alarms. Inside the library, all he could see was the darkness of the library’s endless corridors and rooms. Looking around he spotted what he was looking for, a book the size of a fingernail was perfectly taped on the outer edge of a stair railing, guiding Ronan upstairs. Once he was on the second floor, he continued into the grand hall of the Mitchell Room, taking out book upon book upon book, until it was impossible to distinguish the floor from the endless pages. “It must be somewhere.” He muttered to himself, searching through pages rigorously. Suddenly he heard metal keys banging against each other. Rushing into the darkness of a ebony black shadow, he remained perfectly still, till he spotted, over on the other end, a headless man, with paws instead of hands, lurking through the corridor. Petrified, Ronan made a run for it, trying to make as less noise as possible. Escaping the Mitchell study room, Ronan’s heart was still pounding furiously, he was completely perplexed as to what he had seen. Obscure questions kept rolling into his head: was it real he thought to himself, was I hallucinating was another thought he contemplated. He pictured the endless rows of paintings and artifacts on display in the grand hall, the old books and the beautiful mosaics that lined the edges. He knew something was off, something was strange, but he couldn’t figure out what. Edging down the corridor, Ronan kept his eyes peeled for the strange man that was loitering around the library. Every time he would hear even a little screech, Ronan would jump up in fright, knowing this could be the end of him. But the creature never came, Ronan couldn’t spot it, wherever he went, it was like the monster that had disappeared into thin air.