30th November 2022, Week 4: The Fix

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

Chapter 1 As I snuck into the library I senses something was not right. A death freezing quiver slithered down my spine like a slippery python. Once I entered the library, 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. "Release me" suddenly said a mysterious voice in my head. I was taken by surprise, then I felt the urge to dash out of the library 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 library with the walls lined with old, thick books. I want to get out of the library. 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. "Because 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 library, reading room. I shall be free. But your grandfather and father would not oblige to help me although I called them to the library 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. Chapter 2 I started to remember a rumor about this mysterious creature. Was it true? This creature had attacked the owner of the library. My great grandfather turned him into a stone carving into the walls of the library. My great grandfather had a knife which could carve things and send anyone or anything into it. But the spirit would haunt the room in which it was carved into. My great grandfather must have had a reason to turn this person into a carve lion. I wasn’t prepared to find out why. I ran for the door, the suddenly. “BOOM!” As I turned around to see what happened, I saw an ominous monster in all black emerge from the dark shadows. Suddenly I saw black and white fire right up behind me and I saw the monster ripping the neatly tidied books in the shelves and flinging the precious book across the room and lighting them up with a special chemical or fire. This mysterious creature also destroyed anything owned by DS Mitchell and all his precious artifacts and collections. Suddenly people all around came rushing towards the library causing havoc. They were all being mind controlled by this mysterious character. I abandoned the library never wanting this experience again. Chapter 3 As people from the nearby towns come streaming in the library, i desperately search for a place of refuge. Panicking as I become surrounded by people with blank eyes I dash underneath a desk which happened to be D.S. Mitchell's ancient desk, I hoped that the monster would not find me here. Hearing running feet coming in my direction, I hurriedly shifted closer to the wall. Suddenly I felt a knob in the wall, I turned it and before my astonished eyes a dark passage yawned out before me. But I didn't have time to think, without thinking I jumped into the Ominous passage as I heard voices. I closed the trapdoor not knowing my surroundings and not knowing how to open the door from the inside. Chapter 4 After a few hours had passed, everything seemed to pause suddenly the peace in the library resumed. It was now early in the morning and the library was beginning to open. The early morning staff and people slowly drifted in staring in awe and devastation at the damage. I realized the monster must have disappeared. I crept out slowly drifting back into the David Scott Mitchell reading room. Once I put one foot into the reading room cautiously, with a roar the monster springs out of a pile of books. As the monster roared, creating a force pulling people in. I remember a small dagger with a note I found in the small underground passage I hid in whilst everyone was causing commotion although they didn’t know it. The note had said this was the only weapon that could defeat or banish this monster. As I thought, this was my only chance to save the entire world from this Monster. Taking a deep breath, I threw the dagger at the monster. Pushing us all away with a super natural force with a loud scream of defeat the monster disappeared once and for all. Things begun to get back to normal, picking up books and repairing damage and the general reading, borrowing, returning and studying. But whenever someone from my family goes to the state library, we can hear the slight angry muttering of the monster. The mystery of the monster was never solved.

Naomi took the diary home and looked through it. She discovered with a shock that the true life of David Scott Mitchell was way different to what the other people knew about him. The next morning, Naomi went back to the library and searched for information from the state library and David Scott Mitchell as well. Finally, she pieced all the clues together and started to look for the case which Mr Mitchell mentioned about. She asked the librarian and found out it was with a person called Mr Dang. Mr Dang lived two streets across the library in an apartment. Naomi managed to find his phone number and called him. When Naomi mentioned the case he was shocked. That case was passed to me from my grandfather and he was a historian. He wrote a book about David Scott Mitchell and he also an artefact connector. The day he got that case my grandmother died and not long after my uncle and aunt all died in a sort of accident. My father was the only one who survived from the family. When my grandfather died, the case belonged to my father and in the same year my mother died while giving birth to me. Later, I became a professor at history when my father gave me the case he told me a secret. He said my grandfather was lying about David Scott Mitchell and before David Scott Mitchell died, he gave my grandfather the case and told him to tell the truth otherwise he will curse his family. However my grandfather didn’t correct his wrongs but he kept the case. The next day I got the case. The university told me that someone complained that one of my publication contained false information and other complains and I was fired my job.” Naomi convinced Mr Dang to go to the state library with her at night. Mr Dang returned the case to Mr Mitchell and apologised six months later. Ms Dang wrote a new book about Mr Mitchell and it became very popular in the rest of the year. It changed every one’s point of view to Mr Mitchell. Mr Dang got his old job back and became a famous book writer and historian.

~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 a completely alone soul was 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 chase ended several minutes 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 as if he could shove the traitorous noise back in there. But it was too late. Ryan heard a series of confused muttering, and 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. “Yup! Can’t even remember living in a permanent home.” He exclaimed as he climbed back into the car. “My mum carked it when I was born, and then it was just me and my dad. Then for some reason we were out on the streets.” Martin paused. “Can’t remember for the life of me why. Something about money and debt.” He said, climbing out of the car with a tattered bag. “That’s terrible.” Said Ryan. Martin shrugged. “Ehhhh. Not really. Dad disappeared a year ago. It’s actually quite fun, running around stealing things.” There was a pause. “Right.” He said in a commanding tone. “Let’s go.” Ryan was confused. “Go where?” “Anywhere.” Martin called over his shoulder. The duo drove for quite a while. “Heeyy…” Said Ryan. “Have… you… um… heard any weird sobs and cries lately? Like… like the night is crying?” Martin gave him a look as if he had suggested the moon was made of cheese. “Ummm…” Said Ryan, now feeling extremely awkward and speechless. “Never mind.”` 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. A wobbling, shuddering form appeared in front of him. Instead of seeing it, it was as if Ryan could feel it. It radiated a mixture of hurt, confusion and rage. It was a small, crippled, horribly burnt child’s body with dark, black holes were the eyes and mouth were supposed to be. Draped over its shoulders was a charred red raincoat. He was face-to-face with a ghost. Ryan wanted to scream as loud as he ever had, but his fear twisted it into a strangled croak. It twitched and jittered like it barely had a grip on existence. It reached out with an open hand and spoke in a wheezy, crackly voice: “C-c-c… Haaaallllpp. M-meeee. C-c-c-c-c…” Ryan got up and ran. He shoulder charged the ghost, and it fell over with a yelp. As he sped away, his head started throbbing. Every step caused an ice cold jolt shot to sizzle down his back. “N-n-n-nooooooo. N-n-noooooooo!” It screeched. It sounded so sad, so alone, Ryan almost felt sorry for it. He could hear it screeching and running behind him. Things were thrown. Paintings were pulverised. Relics were run over. Walls were ruined. Books were bashed. The library was liquidated. The further Ryan ran, the more vulgar and monstrous the ghost sounded. He didn’t feel sorry for it anymore. It was as if he no longer understood the ghost. He didn’t understand. Those words echoed in his head. Didn’t Understand. Didn’t Understand. Didn’t Understand. He didn’t understand. But because he was too busy running from a ghost whom he did not understand, he ran straight into a wall. He was asleep before he even hit the floor. A small, desolate looking child rubbed the frail hand of his weak mother. She was lying in a hospital bed. The child was wearing a large, rosy red raincoat. Something flashed and the child was sitting on a chair. The hospital and mother gone, the child was at home. His father was yelling at him, furious, horrified that his wife was gone. He obviously somehow blamed the child for killing the mother. A white flash faded into the father and the child. They were both running away from a fierce bushfire. A charred tree fell on top of them. Another white flash turned into the father and the child being dragged out of what little remained of the tree trunk. The child was dead. The father was still alive. The father was ripped apart emotionally. First his wife, then his son. It was too much. He laid the red, rosy raincoat the child used to wear, and buried it, far, far away from his normal home... Ryan awoke from one world of nightmares to another with a bang. His whole body felt like it was glued together with sweat. His head was throbbing, but this time it was a smashed-into-a-wall-while-running-away-from-a-ghost sort of headache, not the headache where something was tampering with his mind. Gladly, he wasn’t injured, or at least, he couldn’t feel any injuries. He had a bad dream about this kid who died in a bushfire, but it wasn’t a normal dream… it was so vivid, so real, that Ryan almost thought he was the boy. It would certainly account for his aching body. He began to sit up but then stopped immediately. The ghost was still out there, somewhere. He laid back down and pulled up the covers. Hang on… covers? Instead of lying on the bare floor, Ryan’s head was on a pillow and a small blanket had been draped over him. He froze when he heard feet stomping down some stairs and a voice calling out his name. Ryan squeezed his eyes shut until they burned. The footsteps were getting closer and closer. He braced himself for his death… “Oh!” Said Martin sarcastically upon seeing Ryan. “I see you found your own place to settle down for the night. Where’d you even get all that?” He gestured to the blanket and the pillow. Ryan tried to scream about ghosts and burnt ghosts and weird dreams and fires, but he couldn’t. It felt like his throat had constricted around itself. “Anyway,” Muttered Martin, reaching into a bag, “Dinner.” He said, lobbing a half-eaten bag of chips at Ryan’s head. “Ow.” Muttered Ryan. He paused for a moment, realising he could talk. “MARTIN!! THERE WAS A GHOST! A BURNT ONE! IN THE BASEMENT, um, THE ARCHIVES AND IT WAS ALL BURNT AND HORRIBLE AND IT WAS SAD OR SOMETHING AND I HAD A WEIRD DREAM AND-“ “Jeez, jeez, calm down first! Have some chippy whippies!” “Some what?!” “Chippy whippies. It’s what I call chips sometimes.” Eventually, Ryan calmed down enough to tell Martin the whole story. By the time he’d finished, Martin was rubbing his temples. “Arrrrrr… My bloody jiffing head. It’s throbbing.” Then he looked up at Ryan with clouded, unfocused eyes. “Ghosts? Archives? Burns? Fires? Wow. You really must have hit your head hard.” Scoffed Martin. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” CHAPTER THE THIRD Ryan huffed in exasperation. He was hoping that once he got to someone else everything would be okay. “Martin! I saw it! With my own eyes! I’ll show you where it was.” Martin smiled at him as if he was a young child who had suggested that atoms were made of chocolate. “Nonsense. Ghosts only exist in storybooks for the weak minded. Silly child.” “Nonsense? “Storybooks?” “Weak minded?” “Silly child?!” Thought Ryan. Since when did Martin talk like a shakespearean poet? He jumped up and grabbed Martin by the arm. “Oh, Lord! Where, pray tell, are you taking me?” He said with a strange flourish in his voice. Ryan felt a surge of bravery rush through his blood. “I’m taking you to prove to you that this ghost is bloody well real.” Ignoring Martin’s classical protests, Ryan dragged him into the Archives of the State library. It wasn’t until he had set foot into the place that he realised he had the same mysterious, pushing feeling at his brain again. His bravery melted away into fear as he realised he had lost control of his legs, which carried him across the floor, deeper into the archives. Martin, obviously not wanting to meet a ghost, yanked his arm out of Ryan’s grip and ran away. “Martin!” Called out Ryan as he took off after him. Oddly enough, Martin seemed to know exactly where he was going, and before long Ryan had lost him. The echoing footsteps had seemingly been swallowed up. All he could do was wander around calling. Ryan was shaking with fear, and his eyes were playing tricks on him. Because of the low light, the weird blobs that form across your eyes looked like monsters and apparitions. The click-clack of his feet echoed across the empty, deafeningly quiet aisles. After a while, he noticed the footsteps were slightly out of timing with when his feet touched the ground. There was an extra footstep added into the gaps of his. He stopped. But the footsteps didn’t. Ryan barely had time to register this before the blackened figure came around the corner and put its hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “S-s-stooooooopp. Heeeeeeeeelp.” He wanted to stop but his instinct to get away had taken over. Ryan took off with a bang, followed closely by the ghost. The chase was horrible beyond words. Ryan would have been toast instantly if this was a flat out, straight-pathed race so had to constantly to duck and weave and turn. His head was throbbing. The sound of the screeching his and the ghost’s feet pummelling the ground became softer and softer. He turned a corner… And almost ran smack bang into a wall again. He whirled around, but it was too late. The ghost was on him. “P-p-pleeeeaaasse. Heeeeeeelp.” Ryan wanted to ask, but for some reason, he said: “No! Get lost!” The ghost drooped. Then it sobbed. Ryan felt like deflated balloon. Why had he said that? He tried to apologise. “I said get lost!” The ghost stopped. Then looked up at Ryan. Then it hissed. A most horrible, bloodcurdling hiss that would haunt Ryan for years. Uh oh, thought Ryan. He ran. CHAPTER THE FOURTH After the boy burnt to death in the bushfire, his spirit left the world of the living. Many years later, a gardener was digging in a garden bed when he dug up the boy’s raincoat. Because a piece of his past life was uncovered, the boy’s spirit was yanked back into the realm of the living, and linked to the raincoat. The gardener submitted it to his boss, a rich businessman. The businessman was already a bit rotten and greedy with money, but after the raincoat was proven to be a historical find, he became filthy rich. But he felt a strange pull to the coat whenever it was around. Finally, the child’s ghost revealed himself. The ghost child begged for his raincoat to be reburied, but the filthy rich businessman didn’t care. He was so spoilt rotten by his money that all he wanted in the world was more money. He refused, and reported the ghost to the world. All the officials came rushing in to investigate, but the child’s spirit made himself scarce. Now all it looked like was that the businessman threw some dirt on a raincoat and made up a story about it. He lost all his money, and became a laughing stock. Furious at the spirit, the businessman locked the raincoat in a museum, fully aware that since it was not an as impressive item, would be stuffed into storage. Not buried, but with no one to help. A few years later, the businessman died in a metal health clinic, poor and in debt. Just like the boy’s spirit, his spirit was not at peace, so it could not live the mortal realm. Legend says it still lingers around, guarding the boy’s raincoat from possible helpers... Ryan flew through the corridors, bashing into the shelves. Another dream… but how? He wasn’t even asleep. He tried to stop, but his legs didn’t want to. He wanted to apologise, but his mouth didn’t want to. He couldn’t. It was as if something was clamping his mouth shut and keeping his legs running. He tried to fight the feeling off. He struggled and jerked. His head throbbed more than it had ever before. The ghost was right in front of him, regarding him with curiosity, and… Concern? Finally, with his head feeling like lava, Ryan squeezed out a sentence. “I want to help you! Its just that something is stopping me!” That stopped the ghost in its tracks. It growled in frustration. “Sh…wie…tsen…baun!” It rasped. “I… know… you’re…there…” It broke into a coughing fit. “Ha, ha, ha.” Boomed a voice. “I told you, Felix, I wouldn’t let you get away with it!” CHAPTER THE FIFTH The pressure and restrictions on Ryan’s mouth and legs were suddenly lifted, and everything he wanted to say and do came out in a torrent. “NO! I’m sorry, i can’t…huh? What? I can’t stop! Heeeeelp! I can’t stop! Arrrrghh! What’s happening to meeee?! Im sorry somethings controlling me- arrrgh my head…” He screamed, yelled, yelped and whimpered as he ran back and fourth across the room. When he had done, a large man had appeared. He had a tiny, piggy-looking face with minuscule glasses perched on his short nose and a smooth head. But that was the end of his littleness. He quite fat and short, wore a dark crimson tuxedo and had a vein swelling on his forehead. Ryan processed what they had said to each other. “Your name’s Felix?!” He exclaimed to the ghost. “You think I didn’t have a name?” Rasped ‘Felix’. The businessman was offended. “What about ME?” He growled, clenching his fists. Ryan turned to the demanding little man. “You’re… ummm… the ghost, i mean Felix, said you were… Kite-in-a-bum?” The man’s head swelled up like a seething purple tomato. Felix laughed. “That’s much better name than Shwietsenbaun. Maybe I should call you that from now on.” “BE QUIET!!!!” Roared ‘Shwietsenbaun’. Felix seemed to remember what was going on. “Why are you here? HOW are you here? And why can’t you just let me go?” Asked Felix. “Because you RUINED me!!” Bellowed Shwietsenbaun. “I was rich from finding your grubby little coat. If you had just revealed yourself, we would have been the richest people on earth!” For Ryan, everything clicked. The dreams! He thought. They weren’t dreams— they were visions of the past! Felix died, but his raincoat was linked to him and when it was dug up he was forced back into the mortal realm! He wanted Shwietsenbaun to bury the raincoat, but he just wanted money, and showed every one the ghost, but there was no ghost, so he looked like a raving idiot, and when he died he wasn’t at peace so part of him remained in the mortal realm, making sure Felix’s raincoat never got buried! Obviously, the bad guy was not Felix. “How are we going to get rid of him?” Ryan said to Felix. “Wha… You’re siding with HIM?!” Screeched Shwietsenbaun. “He took EVERYTHING from me!!” Ryan shook his head. “You lost your money because you refused to help a poor child’s spirit who died in a fire!” He spluttered. “Can’t you see how terrible that is?!” Shwietsenbaun frowned so deeply his eyebrows connected. “The only way we can return him to the spirit world is to put him at peace.” Felix whispered to Ryan. “Well, that’s going to be hard.” He muttered. “All I wanted was fame! And admiration!” Shwietsenbaun spat. “I wanted people to recognise me!” Just then, a library employee came strolling round the corner with a mop and a bucket of soapy water. “Hey!” She said, freezing on the sight of Felix, Ryan and Shwietsenbaun. “What are you people doing here? You can’t be here! This is employee-only!” Shwietsenbaun wants to be recognised, thought Ryan. So that’s what i’ll give him. “Uh, lady? This man, here.” Ryan said pointing at Shwietsenbaun, “Is a magic ghost.” The woman was not convinced. “I’m not convinced.” She said. “But you will be.” Said Shwietsenbaun. “Look! I can disappear!” He said as he disappeared. “I can make you say and think and do stuff!” He said. “I love tacos.” Said the woman. “They are yummy.” She crouched on the floor and began breakdancing. Shwietsenbaun went on to showcase all his ghostly powers. By the end of it, the woman’s mouth was open in a ginormous O. She called everyone in the museum over, and finally, Shwietsenbaun was recognised. And so he was at peace. Slowly, Shwietsenbaun faded from this world and into the next. CHAPTER THE SIXTH Several weeks later, Ryan, Martin and Felix were burying Felix’s battered raincoat. “Are you sure you’re ready to go?” Asked Ryan. “Yes, i’m ready. The more I stay in this world, the more I feel like death.” Felix replied. “But one last question before you go…were the cries of the night I kept hearing from you?” “Yes. Because of what happened last time with Shwietsenbaun, I was more wary of who I called out to. I decided to only call to those who would understand and want to help.” There was a pause. “The only way you could hear my calls would be if you understood my pain, and had experienced it yourself. “I wanted to go home.” Felix looked at Ryan. “And so do you.” Ryan sighed and began to tell his story. “I used to live with a very rich man who was my dad. He didn’t really like me. He saw me as a pest, who got in the way of his work. “But one day, he brought home this massive glass pot, and in the glass pot there were a bunch of beautiful fish. I can’t remember what type they were. They were just really colourful. Anyway, he said it was amazingly expensive, and that no one was to touch it. But one day, I wanted to look into it. I leaned too far… and fell head-first into the tank. Even though it was massive, I couldn’t flip myself over in it, so I found myself completely stuck. I was in there panicking, I couldn’t breathe and my head was stuck underwater. Almost unconscious, I picked up a rock that was in the fish tank. I smashed the glass until it broke. Water went everywhere. Then my father came rushing in. He didn’t care that his only son had almost drowned, only that his son had cost him a mound of money. I didn’t want to live in a place where my father valued me less than a tank of pretty fish, so I ran away. And here I am now.” Ryan didn’t realise he was crying until some tears ran into his nose and he choked. “Hey!” Said Martin suddenly. “I read about this rich guy that had his son Ryan run away!” Ryan felt a jolt go down his spine. “He was really worried, apparently. In fact, he spent most of his wealth looking for you, and has gone quite in debt.” Ryan choked once again. “Come on.” Said Felix, standing up and putting his raincoat back on.” “Let’s go reunite you with your dad.” ٩(🌔ᴗ🌔)—🪄✨ THE END.

I peered down staircases as I opened door after door! Each room drew me closer to it every time. Their frames looked like they were brand new from the nearest antique store! “Did any of you know about this?” I asked in excitement. “Actually, we had no idea there was a place like this.” the ship replied calmly. In confusion, I stepped backward as rocks kicked my shoes. In alarm, I fell back towards one of the doors! WHAM! Pain spread throughout my throbbing head as I rubbed against the bumpy surface. The dusted door revealed a black room filled with darkness. And there stood an object in the middle of the room. Ruffled pages squirmed in my hands as I flicked through the contents. But beneath it all was a clean beige folder lying on the hard ground. I gently picked it up as I examined its surroundings. Taking a deep breath, I looked inside its papers. In an instant, I hopped onto the phantom ship. “Ghosty. I know you’re known as ‘the ghost guide’ but I’m gonna call you Ghosty. Okay, I know our last and final destination.” I ordered. Clutching the precious information in my grip, we entered the journey. I steered along the slippery hallway as we turned to the left and we twisted to the right and twirled around doors! Finally, we reached Ghoala and Ghangaroo’s mischeif lounge. “Ghoala and Ghangaroo. I command your attention!” I shouted without showing any sign of fear. “COMMAND?!” they screeched. Nodding, they swept down to my height. “Why are you angry?” I questioned them. Ghangaroo took a step forward. He explained that there were invaders in their territory. Their mission is to make them pay and they’ll be happy when the enemy has realised what they’ve done to them. Glancing at the given information, I flashed a tricky smile. “Well, at the looks of it. Your mission is completed. In this file is a form. Look.” I began as I showed them the form. Eying me suspiciously I continued. “The ruler of your invaders signed this to declare peace across all of Australia and has generously handed this land to the Aboriginal people. Especially the Aboriginal animals. That includes Koalas and Kangaroos you two! There’s also a record that shows some people aren’t so bad. Captain Cook only came to research the area. He also offered materials to the Indeginous for them to survive! Do you really want to continue this… whatever this is, in the library?” I thoroughly explained. A silence pierced my ears as I awaited an answer. Sweat dripped down my forehead as I held onto Ghosty (I couldn’t actually hold onto him as he’s a ghost but you get the idea). “The answer is that we think we’ve done enough. Although we don’t know what’ll happen after we finish our mission.” Ghoala replied. Before I could answer, mist covered their bodies as they slowly disappeared. Silence echoed across the library as I watched them fade away. Mist covered the area of the disappearance as all was emptied. Once we had gotten over the event I finally got to ask Ghosty a question I was dying for! “What's your name?” I asked hopefully. “Well. I don’t have much time to tell you as it’s almost sunrise but I can tell you my last name. Fisher.” he answered before floating away. “Oh I knew it!” I whooped. I waved goodbye to the ship as I walked out of the gates. One week later: I took a deep breath as the cool breeze flowed through my hair. Skipping to the gate, I entered the library. I peered around the room as I noticed books shuffling in a corner. Suddenly, a white, fluffy koala appeared who crawled out of the window. It was followed by a pale kangaroo. They reminded me of Ghoala and Ghangaroo. I suspect they’ll be back to visit real soon.

The Midnight Hour Angus J. Term 4, 2022 Chapter 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 The Discoveries “What the?” I asked, more confused than a polar bear playing (or trying to play) tennis. “Can’t you see me? I’m literally right in front of ya!” said the deep male voice. “Uh… no…” “Oh yeah! I totally forgot! I’m a ghost!” the voice said, and a misty figure appeared in front of me! “AARRGGHH! Who in the name of Taylor Swift are you?!” I screamed. “Why, I’m David S. Mitchell, the founder of this magnificent library!” the ghost announced proudly. “Riiiiight… why are you still here?” “I got trapped in the freezer,” David said cheerfully. “Okay…” “Yeah.” “Right.” “Uhh, why are you here?” asked David, more curious than a beaver in a hotel. “This,” I said, pulling the note from Tobias out of my shirt pocket and showing it to David. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’d go home ASAP if I were you.” “Why?” “All people who have entered this library because of mysterious notes requesting them to come here, are in their graves!” said David, creepily. GULP! “A…a…are you sure?” I stammered. “100%.” “Oh, help me LORD!” I said, falling to my knees. “Um…okay…” It took what felt like forever for me to get over it, yet it was only 20 minutes. “Um…would you like me to guide you through this glamorous library?” David said, his voice raising proudly. “Uh, sure!” I said, my hopes raising a little bit. “Alrighty, so first…” *** 30 MINUTES LATER *** “…And here we have some ancient diaries from well-known people, such as Dorothea Mackellar, Henry Lawson, Roald Dahl and more!” “Hold on! Can I please have a look at one of these diaries?” I asked, more excited than the King on his 105th birthday. “Knock yourself out! Not literally.” “Thanks!” I walked over to the diaries and picked up the one marked ‘Elwyn White’. I flicked it open to a random page. In unusual cursive writing, it read: ‘YOU’RE DEAD MEAT! Signed, Tiobas’ I read it out loud to David. “Who’s Tiobas?” I asked. “Who knows? It could be Lady Ga-Ga for all I care!” said David. “Tonight, I die!!” I cried. “Stop being such a baby!” exclaimed David, as he pushed me into the wall. Suddenly, I was at Tobias’ house! “What the…?!” The old building looked heart-stoppingly creepy in the moonlight. How did I get here? I turned around and walked forward. Then, I was back in the library! “Where’d you go?” asked David. “Tobias’ house!” I said, a little dazed. “Aaahh…how?” “The wall.” “Riight.” Chapter 3 Blood & Death “What’s that sound?” I asked David, dreading the answer. “Oh, ploomfizz!” he said. “What is it?” I asked, more frantic than a worm in a bird’s mouth. “It’s the Blood and Death!” “What in the name of Taylor Swift is that??!!” I screamed. “Shushy!! If it finds you, it’ll rip your limbs off one by one like me!” “Riiiiight…” “Oh, for the love of Hank Marvin! It found us! RUN IF YA WANNA LIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” David screamed. I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me. David was floating along beside me. “Where in the world do we go?!” I half-asked, half-screamed. “The basement! Blood and Death never goes down there! It’s too wet!” “Right. Where’s that?” “Right below us! Duh!” “Hmm. Makes sense.” We both ran… (well, I ran…. David floated) … to a sandstone stairwell which was darker than a Dementor. After about 10 or so minutes of jogging down the stairs, we came to a room lined with empty white shelves. “Hallelujah!” cried David. RAAAAHHHH!!!! “I spoke too soon, didn’t I?” “Yep,” I said. The grey, terrifying creature advanced down the stairs with its arms outstretched. “So that’s what it looks like,” I muttered to myself. “Luckily for us, Blood and Deaths aren’t the fastest movers in the world,” said David. DRIP! DRIP! DRIP! DRIP! “What’s that?” I asked David. “Oh, there’s been a lot of rain this week. Leaky roof.” “But, aren’t we underground?” David shrugged. “Beats me.” “Whatever,” I said. I picked up the three-quarter full bucket up and threw it on the Blood and Death’s face. All the hair melted away to reveal… Tobias B. Senyard! “You!” “Me,” he said calmly. “Yes, you! How could you do this?!” “To kill you,” Tobias said. “To kill me?” “Yes. To kill you. And every being who sets foot in this building.” “But why?” “Well, I once cut myself on page 97 of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and ever since then, I’ve been destroying all books and book-lovers! Including you. You’re dead meat, boys!” “AARRGGHH!! What do we do?!” whispered David. “We call the police!” I said, as I whipped out my mobile phone. “Don’t be so sure!” said Tobias, and he stomped on my phone. “Rats.” “There’s a telephone upstairs!” said David, more frantic than a worm in a bird’s mouth. “But how do I get up? Tobias is blocking the stairs!” “Then climb over the shelves!” I did as David suggested, climbed up the sinister stairwell and darted over to the reception desk. “Darragh! These old telephones!” I said, as I spun the numbers on the porcelain receiver. Finally, I got through! “Can I please get a police squad at the State Library ASAP?!” I yelled into the phone. “Thank you!” I slammed the phone down. All was silent. All except for sirens in the distance… Chapter 4 Back To Normal All was well. Tobias (AKA Blood and Death) was thinking it over in jail cell 476 at Sydney City Prison, and the State Library had been repaired. For some reason, on the 5th of December, I decided to tease Tobias in prison. “Tobias Senyard, please,” I said to the warden who was dozing in his chair. “476,” he murmured sleepily. I climbed up to the fourth level and walked past the thousands of cells. “474, 475, 476!” I exclaimed. But something was wrong. And that something was that jail cell 476 was empty… TO BE CONTINUED…

Warning: this story gets a little bit dark (Not too bad, just perceived risk of death and fairly graphic terror). Don’t read it before bedtime and remember that everything turns out well in the end. ‘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.’ – Thomas Carlyle (Quote carved on the wall of the Mitchell Vestibule in the NSW State Library) Nixie exhaled and their breath condensed in the cool air, forming a little cloud of dragon smoke. Morrigan sat next to them on a park-style wooden bench. She was letting her gaze excitedly scan the dark, damp courtyard and dwell on the silhouette of a statue on a pedestal, the mossy low wall that weaved around the stone building and the two trees that spread their swaying branches above the whole scene. “Thanks for organising this,” Morrigan grinned, looking at Nixie with glittering eyes, “I can’t wait for the tour,” “I thought you’d like it! I’m really glad that you do,” Nixie smiled. They both leaned back, relaxing as much as they could on the hard bench. Their cold hands gently brushed and their fingers slowly entwined. Morrigan rested her head on Nixie’s shoulder. Her lips quirked upwards as their eyes met and Nixie smiled back, leaning into her too. “Are you two here for the midnight ghost tour?” They both jumped apart. Standing next to their bench was a dark-haired man with his hands tucked into the pockets of a long coat. He half-smiled at them as he waited for their answer. “Yep!” Morrigan said, casually jumping up from the bench. Nixie hurriedly scrambled to their feet after her. “So you must be Morrigan and Nixie,” he nodded, “Excellent!” He strode in front of their bench and jokingly mimicked the statue’s pose. Nixie held in a laugh; he looked ridiculously similar to the statue when he did that. “My name is Ernest, and I’ll be your guide as we investigate the ghosts that haunt the State Library tonight,” The ominous clanging of a bell rang through the chilled night air. Nixie and Morrigan stared, wide eyed, as Ernest basked in the noise. The sound faded away and he lowered his arms to his sides. “Let’s start-” he began before being cut off by the same ringing bells. He made a face at the sky, halfway between a disappointed English teacher’s stare and an irritated teenager’s eyeroll, and reached into one of his jacket’s pockets. After digging around for a bit, he pulled out a phone that looked cheaper than Nixie’s little brother’s. The screen lit up as he tapped at it, his expression devolving into a frown. “Do you two know how to turn the alarm off?” he grumbled, passing his phone over. “Yeah…” Morrigan murmured, nodding. She flicked the screen to get the password entry keypad up. “Can you enter your password?” “Of course…” he tapped it in. “Thanks,” she said, flicking to the alarms tab and pressing ‘stop’. The dinging din finally stopped and Morrigan gave the phone back to Ernest. “Thank you,” he huffed, putting it back in his pocket, “I still can’t figure that thing out. “Now, on with the tour! Let’s start here. Have either of you noticed the statue of a cat” -he pointed- “on that windowsill?” “No,” Nixie said, blinking. They could barely make out the shadowy shape that Ernest was pointing at. “Let’s get a closer look.” He strode over to the low wall and leaned over slightly. Nixie and Morrigan quickly walked up beside him to look. A little silhouette, cloaked by the nighttime darkness, stood on a tiny sandstone block on the windowsill. From up close it was clearly distinguishable as an animal. It was frozen in the act of sneaking across the windowsill, staring curiously at the person who caught it. “That’s Trim, the first cat to circumnavigate Australia,” Ernest said, “He travelled with” -he gestured to the bigger statue- “that handsome guy. Matthew Flinders. On a voyage to England, they stopped at a French colony on Mauritius. At the time, France and England were at war,” “Did they get into a battle?” Nixie asked. “No. They were put under house arrest,” he murmured, “Trim was allowed to leave and wander around. One day he didn’t come back,” “Oh,” Morrigan winced, hugging the doll she brought. Ernest just kept staring at the back of Matthew Flinders’ statue. Nixie opened and closed their mouth, realising that they had been about to tell him that they were sorry for his loss. Ernest shrugged. “If you two are ready for the rest of the tour, the entrance to the library is this way,” he said, turning back to them and gesturing to the left, “Paranormal adventures await!” Ernest scrabbled at the lock of the library’s door with the key. Morrigan turned her head around, clutching her plush doll to her chest. Nixie was standing behind Ernest with their hands in the pockets of their jeans. “There,” Ernest smiled. He pushed the door open and stood back. “Guests first,” Morrigan took three steps inside then promptly forgot about walking. The entrance area was cast in a soft golden light by half-spheres suspended from the ceiling. Part of the floor was roped off to isolate an intricate map drawn onto the tiles. Uneven lines ran parallel to each other from the left and right of it. Indoor pillars stretched upward, ending when they touched the ceiling, where they opened like stone flowers. Signs advertising exhibits stood by staircases. Doors revealed peeks of what was behind them through panes of polished glass. Reaching across a balcony, a bronze railing twisted like wrought iron and proudly displayed a beautiful clock. Swirling plaster carvings crept across the ceiling and accentuated the pillars and skylight. “Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Ernest said, “I never saw anything like this when I was your age,” “Really?” Morrigan murmured. Her gaze was still fixed on the room. A small movement dragged it over to Nixie, who had shifted their left arm to hug their right. Their eyes glittered like fairy lights as they read a quote carved onto the wall. Morrigan nudged their hand with hers before lacing her fingers around it. Nixie smiled, gently squeezing Morrigan’s hand. She didn’t look away. “Yeah,” Ernest laughed, “I was reading adventure novels and dreaming of a life like the ones I read about,” “What was your favourite book?” Nixie asked. He grinned. “Robinson Crusoe. It’s old now, but I still love it. I haven’t read it in a while though,” his voice took on a dramatic spooky tone like a storyteller’s. “I would’ve, but it’s missing from the library,” After speaking, he paused for a moment. His smile slowly drooped. “Really?” Morrigan frowned. “Every single copy,” he admitted dully, “A few books have just… disappeared. No trace and nothing on any cameras. My Love Must Wait, Terra Australis, Adventures on Leaky Ships…” “Vanished into thin air,” Morrigan whispered, “That’s awful,” Ernest nodded, “All through the library, artefacts have been moved around but no one knows who did it. Inexplicable noises that-” A creak split the quiet atmosphere from somewhere just out of sight. The two teenagers whipped around and their guide swiftly followed suit. "What was that?!" Nixie hissed. Morrigan huffed a small nervous laugh. "I don't know," "I'll see what it is," Ernest said, starting forward. Nixie and Morrigan huddled closer together as he strode around a corner. Morrigan's doll was squished by a constricting hug and her long blond hair fell over its face. Nixie laid an arm around her back. They both stood still, looking at the place their guide had gone. Morrigan felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise like the fur of a spooked cat and a chill deliberately, maliciously, ran down her spine. It was the same feeling as the one that let her instinctively know, when she was playing a horror game, that the monster was right behind her. Normally she relished the feeling. Now, when it was heightened by a cold pressure in her chest, WHEN SHE WASN’T PLAYING A GAME… She turned. Slowly. Cautiously. She saw the end of the room vanish into shadow. She felt Nixie move their arm away and clutch her hand. She heard a quiet scrape. She saw a pair of fiery eyes open and narrow, glaring. Before Morrigan could blink a massive dark jaw opened in the shadows and it rushed forwards. It didn't crawl or walk or slither; the disembodied ‘face’ moved without need for limbs. Morrigan spun with her lover and ran. No matter how many times they tripped over each other, they didn't let go. Morrigan didn’t know if she was screaming. She could only feel the tiles under her boots, Nixie’s hand clinging to hers, her jaw opening wide to try to make a sound, a dryness in her mouth and throat. She could only hear the thuds of her and Nixie’s feet, quick, daring breaths and the horrifying RASP that it made, always seeming to be from right behind them…! Nixie sprinted, dragging Morrigan or being dragged by Morrigan, dashing up and down staircases and between bookshelves. They were too busy focusing on the giant shadow monster relentlessly chasing them with its gaping black hole of a mouth and twin suns for eyes. When they dared to peek behind them, all they saw was its shadowy mass too close to them. It wasn’t incredibly fast. That didn’t matter though, Nixie realised as a chilling pressure formed in their chest. It had one huge advantage over the two sprinting teenagers. Endurance. Its lungs didn’t scream and cry for air. Its heart didn’t beat so fast that it thought it would explode. Its mouth didn’t gum up or go so dry that it tried and failed to suck moisture out of the air. Its eyes didn’t sting or blur. Its legs and arms and feet and hands didn’t ache. Its every atom wasn’t in absolute and utter agony. “MORRIGAN!” Nixie cried, “If w-we’re going-g to d-die, then…” Thud thud thud thud Raaaaaasssp “We’re… NOT… going… to die! I w-won’t let us!” Morrigan snarled. They ran past study tables and desks, hand in hand. “I’m s-sorry for bringing you-ou here! If I hadn-n’t, we w-w-wouldn’t be…” whimpered Nixie. “Save... breath! Please!” Morrigan begged, pulling Nixie along, “Save it… so we can… get out of here!” As they sprinted around the twelfth identical balcony corner, Nixie snuck a peek behind them and the monster was right there, filling their entire vision with an inky void that looked like a death beyond death. A portal to the deepest pit of hell, to Tartarus itself. It screamed of decades of restless wandering and searching but never finding, never slowing, and Nixie stumbled, dragging Morrigan down with them. Nixie took in a ragged breath, curled on the floor, and Morrigan rolled over to them and tackled them into a hug. Both teenagers braced for impact, hoping that whatever the monster did when it had them was quick. ….. There was a light flapping noise from all around them. They were brushed by dozens of… paper scraps, Nixie realised. They tentatively uncurled and looked around warily. The fragments were gently flittering down like butterflies landing on flowers. Nixie reached out a shaking hand, still shot through with the adrenaline left over from the chase, and picked one up. It was covered in writing and torn on two of its three edges. “They’re from books,” Nixie murmured, scooting over to Morrigan and holding out the scrap. “‘…best and most illustrious of his…’” Morrigan read out, “What do the others say?” ‘This danger escaped, he sought ref’ ‘ame of my Uncle Toby’s honest, kind-hearted, humble companion.’ ‘I’ll chain you up;’ ‘I can never speak of cats wit’ ‘will his like’ ‘Being a favourite w’ ‘energy and elasticity of his mov’ ‘e was shipw’ ‘“See the vanity of that c’ ‘ain of his person, especially of his snow-white’ ‘hout a sentiment of regret for my po’ ‘or Trim,’ Nixie stopped. Carefully, they held the last two up to their face. “Morrigan,” they whispered, “I think I know what… or who… that shadow creature was.” “ERNEST!” Morrigan screamed. She and Nixie ran right up to their guide and stopped, doubling over and gasping desperately for air. “Morrigan? Nixie?” he said, turning to look at them with scrunched eyebrows, “I thought you were going to stay in the Mitchell Vestibule until I came back,” Morrigan looked up, still out of breath. “We were, but then we were chased by a ghost,” In the five seconds of silence that followed that explanation, Morrigan could almost hear cicadas screeching outside. “Oh,” Ernest blinked, “Are you both alright?” Morrigan looked at him incredulously. Okay, he was going to believe her. Huh. “You… believe us?” Nixie asked. “I run the ghost tour, not the ordinary library tour,” he pointed out. “Do you know anything about the ghost?” Morrigan asked, eyes narrowed. He held his hands up to his shoulders. “I didn’t set it loose, if that’s what you mean. I also didn’t know for sure that there was one here. I didn’t put you both in danger on purpose,” “Ah,” Morrigan said, loosening her shoulders and straightening up. “We think that we know who the ghost is,” Nixie admitted, taking the paper scraps out of their pockets, “It dropped these and disappeared after catching up with us,” Nixie passed the scraps over to Ernest, who held them right up to his face to examine them. After reading the first one, his face went slack. Morrigan shifted impatiently as he read, looking around the room. That’s how she saw one corner of the room grow dark, darker than shadows at midnight. Raaaaaaasssp. Ernest slowly breathed out, lowering the scraps of paper. “Trim,” he murmured, turning to the shadow, “This isn’t like you,” Morrigan choked a bit before remembering how to breathe again. “You were sweet-natured, and kind, and brave and loyal,” he pleaded. With his every word, the creature was shrinking like a shadow approaching a light. “I never forgot you,” Ernest smiled with misty eyes, “I swore I’d make monuments to you. I… didn’t get to though,” Something small padded out of the receding darkness, a little black cat with white fur on his paws, lower jaw and chest. Trim hesitated before leaping into Ernest’s arms. Except ‘Ernest’ probably wasn’t their guide’s real name. “You’re that explorer guy,” Morrigan said, “The one who’s a statue,” ‘Ernest’ winced. “Matthew Flinders,” “Right,” Morrigan snapped her fingers, “That one,” “How on earth are you… alive, I guess?” Nixie asked, brows furrowed. “I don’t know,” Matthew shrugged, “I just…. woke up, about a month ago, on that bench you two were sitting on. There was a full wallet in my pocket. I still haven’t figured out how or why,” Matthew scratched Trim under his chin and he purred. Morrigan couldn’t believe that the handsome little ghost cat had been chasing them through the whole library as a massive shadow monster barely fifteen minutes ago. “What’re you going to do now?” Nixie asked. “Continue living, I think,” Matthew answered, “It’ll be strange and I’ll have to figure out that godforsaken ‘phone’ device, but…” -he smiled- “I think it’ll be worth it,” A cheerful jangle sounded from his pocket and Trim shrieked, clawing his way away from it. Matthew closed his eyes, crossed himself and took his vibrating phone out of his pocket. “Please?” he winced, holding it out to them. “Of course,” Morrigan huffed lightly, taking it and turning the alarm off. “Thanks,” he smiled, “That was the ‘end of tour’ alarm. Was that enough of a paranormal adventure for tonight?” Morrigan laughed as Nixie slowly nodded. “Yeah, I think so,” “Then the exit is this way,” Matthew grandly gestured, “I’ll see you out,” Once Matthew closed and locked the door, he turned to them. Trim was walking behind him, rubbing his ankles and purring. “Thank you for reuniting me with Trim,” he said, smiling sincerely. Nixie grinned. “I’m glad we did,” “I’ll be going now,” Matthew nodded, “Have a good day, and if you could recommend the NSW State Library ghost tour to your friends, the extra money might be able to cover the cost of the books that this little thief” -he stroked Trim- “stole. Not many people are booking it,” “We will,” Morrigan laughed, “It sure was an experience,” “A genuine ghost tour with a genuine ghost tour guide!” Nixie declared. All three of them gently shook and giggled with unrestrained mirth. “Goodbye, Nixie, Morrigan,” Ernest said, “And thank you once again,” He picked up Trim and strode away, disappearing into the nighttime shadows. The teenagers watched him go. “That was one heck of a date,” Morrigan smiled. Nixie sighed. “Sorry about the whole ‘risk of death’ thing,” “Hey,” Morrigan poked them, “You didn’t know what you were signing us up for,” Nixie huffed, watching their breath form a little cloud. Morrigan gasped. “Dragon smoke!” They both took turns trying to exhale the most impressive breath, thankful that they were still breathing, until Nixie’s dad’s car pulled up at the side of the road.

793.8 PLEASE READ THIS IF I GO MISSING. Diary Entry - 31st of October 2014 8.30 pm Hello I’m a scientist. My name is Stephen Simon Smith and I heard about this haunted paranormal library called the NSW State Library. There’s supposed to be a secret book in the shelves that tells you all of the secrets about this historical library and the secret book is supposed to only show up at night. At night the sandstone brick library has a green glow on the inside that can actually be seen through the windows from the outside. It looks like a scene from Ghostbusters if they went to investigate a ghost at the library. Dairy Entry – 31st of October 2014 8.45pm I’m inside the building and I don’t see anything weird at all. This should be a piece of cake. You know what……I take back all the words about this being a piece of cake. There are hundreds if not thousands of books, but the book I’m looking for is very different from the others so it’s not a ‘win, win’ for me but instead it’s a ‘win, lose’. Finding this secret book is going to take me forever! Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 9.00pm After one hour of searching randomly in the Non- Fiction section of the library I had a brainwave and decided to search section 793.8. 793.8 is the Magic tricks, juggling and ventriloquism section and I had a feeling a secret book revealing all the secrets of the library would be placed there to put other investigators off the scent. YES! I found it! Wait… what’s that sound coming from the basement. THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD THUD Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 9.45pm Why didn’t anyone tell me about the random monster sounds coming from the basement. I used my walkie talkie to contact someone from Headquarters. Headquarters tells me its because I’m the first person here to investigate the library. Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 10.01pm Suddenly I saw a robot under the glowing green exit sign. The robot was hovering above me. I was shaking. The robot told me his name was pathfinder and asked what I needed help with. Then the monster that was calling out from the basement yelled in a deep voice. "You can’t take that book,” the monster said in a scary voice. “It is my prized possession. If you don’t give it back I will either destroy you or ban you from the library forever.” Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 10.07pm The robot pathfinder leaped up and punched the monster out which stunned him for a few minutes. While lying on the floor of the library the monster woke up, looked me in the eyes and started to gradually transform. It was very quiet and the monster slowly drew me in by rapidly turning into different library books while going around in circles like a tornado. Then the monster disappeared completely. It gave me enough time to run back home with the secret library book safely in my hands. Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 10.50pm On the way home I saw small ghosts, tiny witches and a young ghostbuster but then I remembered it was just kids trickle treating as it was Halloween night! Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 10.55pm I began reading the secret book with my new robot companion pathfinder. Diary Entry – 31st of October 2014 11.59pm I finished reading the book and now understand all the library secrets. I heard a loud knock on the door. I opened the door and standing before me was a big robot that had hydrolic press pounders for arms and one big V for eyes. Well guess I need to return my library book! Hey pathfinder can you grab my library card. Book 2 to be continued: Roboware

Secret of the black puss Chapter 1 Unexpected “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. It reminded me of my dad. 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 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 Trim 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 towards the reading room, I finally saw something. It was a shadow of a cat. “Who are you?” Realising cats couldn’t talk I staggered back. “Ahh, another passerby isn’t it?” Said a voice. It was coming from the cat. “I need your help, I have been left here when the time suddenly changed.” “Can at least guide me.” I begged him. “Well you’ve come to the right person, I am Trim Captain Matthew Flinder’s cat.” “I know everything about this place.” “I live upstairs, until…” he shivered. “Something came.” “Well nice to meet you… Trim.” I agreed. Chapter 4 a good fright “Well follow me rookie!” Then he marched up along the staircase. He led me down to the stacks. “Why are we down here?” I asked. “You’ll see.” He replied. I saw a figure in the darkness. Trim led me closer to it. Two bony fingers gripped my neck. I turned around. “Boo!”it was Trim. “Seriously Trim?” “Humans always need a good scare to be proven loyal to their guide.” “But DO NOT do that again.” I warned. Chapter 5 The Globe Theater We arrived in an empty room. With seven stained glass windows. I recognised this as the seven ages of man. A box in the middle opened slowly to reveal a bronze theatre. Several bronze people on the stage were ferociously stabbing a bronze person lying on the floor. But then it stopped. “Stop it Steven the someone has come.” One said in a sharp voice. “I agree, this is inhumane on this stage.” The one on the floor said in a strangled voice. All of the bronze people hurried to the left wing of the stage “Hurry up Steven the defence position, go go Go!” The bronze person known as Steven. Stood in the middle of the stage and said. “Stand forth and tremble before me foul Carbanacle monster!” “I’m no monster Steven.” I said. “Oh” he said in a monotone. “Why do you think I’m a monster?” “We moved the theatre downstairs because of the beast in the gallery.” “What beast?” “The time-nibbling beast” he said. “If you dare its somewhere in the gallery.” Then the box closed slowly. I look at trim and he looked back. We have to resolve this. Chapter 5 The time nibbler As we crept through the gallery the paintings eyes seemed to follow us. The floor creaked and suddenly we fell into the floor boards. Down down DOWN we fell until…. THUMP. I fell hard on a stone cold floor. “This must be the monsters lair!” I gasped. We continued down the narrow passage. “So how did you get here?” “You see, when Matthew Flinders died I continued on my voyage and I became immortalised through memories, I found myself here.” I saw his sadness. Losing a friend to mortality forever. As we crept towards the end of long narrow passage. A silhouette of a teacup lay there, still and silent. As we approached it, it wobbled and tipped over. Two long furry tails emerged from the back of the teacup. A low growling noise shaking the ground. Then a pair of eagle claws wiggled out on each side. Finally, whatever was in the teacup burst out. With a blinding flash that knocked me several metres back. The creature was a strange mix of different parts of a cat, eagle and horse. Its head and body was of a black cat. The front claws and it’s wings was of a eagle. It’s back legs was of a horses. “Why do you disturb me mortal!?” It roared. It was holding an enormous grandfather clock that had been severely chewed. Every single time it chewed the clock golden light radiated out of it. “What are you doing?”I shouted at the top of my lungs. Chapter 6 Miles Franklin “This is the clock of time it controls all time of the universe.” “Why chew it then?” “My dear creator “Miles Franklin, died through time.” “I am destroying time forever.” “Now go mortal GO!” I looked back Trim was there. His large yellow eyes were grave and sad. Time will be demolished. Time will be replaced with an enternity of chaos. Time will be no more. Suddenly, tiny battle cries filled the air. It was the bronze people of the Globe theatre! They dragged the clock out of the beasts mouth. “Stop, do you know what your doing?” “Revenge is NOT the solution.” I shouted at the beast. It pawed the ground. ”THEN WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?” “I want you to know that everyone dies through time, everyone must go to the next world, eventually .” The beast stopped raging. Silver tears slid down his cheeks. It fell to the floor. Then, a silvery figure emerged from the floor. It was Miles Franklin. She said nothing and glided towards the beast she touched it a glowing scarab beetle appeared on is forehead (the Egyptian symbol of rebirth). Her form was flickering, fading and disappearing. All was left was a glowing scarab, still and unmoving on the floor. Chapter 7 Homecoming The scarab jumped to life crawled to the grandfather clock and dissolved. Golden liquid flowed smoothly down it all the damage gone. The beast smiled and said “I should take you home.” I climbed up onto its back. Then I waved at the puss and the bronze people. Then I found myself sitting on the beasts back. The night air brushing me in the face. The cities lights danced before my eyes before I knew it. I was home. Chapter 8 3 years later…. I was reading a book in the Mitchell reading room when I saw Trim. “Uhhhh…..hi Trim” I stammered. “I thought you were only out at night.People can see you” “Well you’ve seen me before at night. My powers only work at night. My powers left an imprint on your vision. Making you see me but others can’t.” “Where is the beast?” “Oh.” The same beast I saw three years ago still had a scarab beetle marking on its forehead. The bronze people of globe Theatre were massaging it. “I’m here to tell you something is wrong” it proclaimed.

Prologue Things can never be forgotten. No matter how deep you stuff them down to the back of your brain, how hard you try to erase it from your mind, it will stay there. Lurking. Waiting for the right moment, the right time, to pounce back into your brain. Like now. Deep, deeeep under the State library of NSW, something stirred in the black catacombs of Know-how. Something that was meant to sleep forever, trapped. A case, laced with Qualkinite, shifted. Cracked. Splintered. Someone, no, something, rose from the debris. The Bane of Knowledge was free. And it was out…for revenge. Chapter 1 Strange things had been going on in the large city of Sydney, and strange things were going to happen. Axel just knew it. it had started with the disappearance of creatures. Dogs, cats, horses. No one really cared except the people who owned them, and all the animal-lovers (Axel included). Then, people had vanished. When 25-year-old Barry Baloney, 86-year-old Sarah Gregory, 5-year-old Teddy Smith, and 18-year-old Jemimah Barber had gone missing, it had caused an uproar. Everyone wanted to know what had happened. Detectives were out and searching. Axel Delimand was sitting in the state library of NSW, reading through his homework, and groaning. He’d never liked math, and today, he had 50 questions to get through. He was a tall, bulky boy, with black eyes, and straight hair, slicked right down. His jeans had tears in them, and his shirt, which used to pronounce, ‘I love soccer!’ now said, ‘I le ser!’ his long legs bounced up and down as he stared at the math problems. Axel sighed, and put the math away. He’d do that later. Now, he had to walk, to run. He stuffed all his homework into his backpack, and walked out of the library. As he walked out of the doors, he had a strange feeling in his head, that told him not to leave, but to stay. He ignored the feeling. He’d been feeling it for days now, but it still felt weird. Why would he want to stay at the library? He lived somewhere else. Once he was out, he pelted past the big sign in front of the library. He ran past the parked cars, the buildings, and the occasional man in a jumpsuit. Soon, he was at his home. 24 silver street was a comfy, rundown house. A large birch tree, shedding leaves all over the driveway, sat in the front yard. The garage was slightly rusted, but in pretty good shape. Axel jumped up the steps to the door, and announced his arrival by stepping on the squeaky plank next to the worn rocking-chair. He opened the door, and stepped into the living room. ‘Hey mum!’ Axel called into the kitchen. ‘What are we having for dinner?’ ‘We’ll have nothing if you don’t come in here,’ came the high and lilting voice of Lilly Delimand. ‘Abby’s causing chaos, and I can’t cook and watch at the same time.’ Axel walked into the kitchen, and was met with a sticky hug from Abby, his little sister. She had a round face, and the same black eyes that Axel had. Her face was pretty much always smiling, and her hands were pretty much always in, on, and around anything she could get at. Abby looked seriously at her older brother, and said, ‘you play with me?’ ‘Alright Abby,’ Axel said. ‘Just let me put my stuff away, and I’ll play with you.’ ‘Get her cleaned up as well,’ Axel’s mum said. ‘she’s a sticky mess!’ Lilly had the same round face as Abby, but she had brown eyes. She was plump, but not fat, and she usually wore a flowery dress and skirt. ‘Yes mum!’ Axel called, looking into the kitchen as he picked Abby up. It looked like it usually did, with pots on the stove, and food in the pots. One such pot that had not been put on the stove was lying on the floor, with golden sauce seeping out. ‘Well, there goes our sweet and sour sauce,’ groaned Axel’s mother, grabbing a cloth, and wiping up the mess. After wiping up Abby, Axel played tag in the front yard with her. Abby loved running around the yard while Axel roared and chased after her. Soon, it was turning dark, and the two siblings waited for a small red Toyota car to appear in the street. Sure enough, a pair of headlights came rumbling down the road, and they came to rest at the garage. A tall, gangly man with slicked down hair climbed out of the Toyota. ‘Daddy!’ Abby yelled, and she ran at Gary Delimand, and hugged him around the legs. ‘Hello, my little princess,’ Axel’s dad said, picking her up, and squeezing her tight. He walked over to Axel, and said, ‘Hey Ax, how’s it going?’ ‘Great!’ Axel said. He knew his voice sounded a bit too bright, but he just couldn’t help it. ‘You still thinking about my new job?’ Gary said, putting Abby down to run into the house. ‘Why do you have to go?’ Axel burst out. He knew he sounded selfish, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. ‘Why do you have to take the job, and move to freaking Brisbane? Why can’t you just decline the job?’ ‘I know you don’t want me to go, and I don’t want to go either,’ Gary said, putting his hand on Axel’s shoulder. ‘But I have to go. I go where my boss sends me, and he’s sending me there. And I’ll be able to come back every so often.’ ‘I don’t want you to go,’ Axel whispered. ‘I know, Ax,’ his dad said. ‘I know. We’ll talk in the morning, alright? Now, let’s go inside.’ They walked through the door, and into the living room. 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. Just before he leaped out of the window, he paused. He needed rope, and a torch. He grabbed them from his desk drawer, went back to the window. Axel 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 black, that once he stepped into the shadow, he could barely see his hand in front of his face. Axel sneaked up the stairs, and came to the door. He found it by bumping into it. Axel knew it must be locked, but he tried it anyway. Instead of opening, there was a sucking noise, and the doors seemed to disappear. 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 oe 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. When he came to, Axel found himself lying on the floor of the reading room, with Niggles leaning his head over him. Axel yelled, and scrambled away, knocking over a couple chairs and books. ‘Who are you,’ he gasped, pressing himself against the bookshelf behind him, and knocking over more books, ‘And what do you want?’ Balg laughed heartily, slapping himself on the belly. ‘E’s a scaredy hat!’ he bellowed loudly, rolling over. ‘I am not!’ Axel whispered, ‘and stop shouting! This is a library!’ ‘OK, scaredy,’ Balg yelled. ‘Balg, for once be quiet!’ Kelk muttered. Balg mouthed all the words while rolling his eyes, but shut his mouth. ‘So,’ Niggles said to Axel, ‘I expect that you are wanting some explanation of what we called you for, and why you are so special.’ Axel nodded vigorously, not trusting himself to speak. ‘Well,’ Niggles began, ‘first, you must know what we are. In our language, we are known as, the Gentolandin, but in the common English tongue, we are what you call, elves. ‘Library elves!’ Kelk added. ‘Elves?’ Axel finally gasped. ‘You mean those – you exist?’ ‘Course!’ Balg whisper-shouted. ‘Ow do oe think the ibrary is so clean? Oe umans are so clumsy in cleaning, oe can’t do all at. E take care of all at is uncared for.’ ‘Back to the story,’ Niggles said. ‘The Bane of Knowledge. This is what is behind all this human disappearance. Now, I expect that you want the full story of the creature. Here is the story.” Chapter 3 Niggles began. ‘It started like this. Long ago, before Australia was “discovered,”’ at the word discovered all three elves spat on the table, ‘a wiseman of a tribe brought to life a dark creature from the realm of madness. ‘It was like a shadow. It travelled faster than lightning. And it craved destruction. The last thing anybody saw who was trapped by the Bane of Knowledge was two, dark red eyes, containing nothing but anger. But the worst part was, the Bane consumed the creature. Drained all that made them who they were. And they were turned into mindless slaves. ‘It was said to have a true form, more terrifying than anything else. Two, long, clawed hands. Tendrils of destruction trailing from its back. The snout of a dragon. An inhuman call, which echoed across the plain at night. ‘Finally, young men from every tribe in Australia came together to fight it. there was a great battle, and it was sealed in a chamber by the “wise” man who had called him into existence.’ Axel, who had been listening intently, suddenly realised Niggles had left something out. ‘If the Bane of Knowledge was sealed, then how is it still around?’ he asked, suddenly less shy. Kelk took over the story from Niggles. ‘When the library was built, they dug down to make the archives of the library. They dug right into the chamber where the Bane was trapped. In 1826, the Bane of knowledge was free again. Angrier than before, it caused mass panic in Sydney. ‘Finally, a young boy, with the spirit of the not-so-wise man, defeated it, and trapped it in an obsidian coffin. The young boy was your great-grandfather. You are special, because the ‘Wise’ man’s spirit lives in you, protecting you from any harm. They put the coffin in the archives, in a secret room. And now it is free again, and its goal is to finalize the process it started centuries ago. To destroy the world.’ There was a deathly silence. And then the library doors started creaking open! ‘Hide!’ Kelk whispered, ducking under the table, and extinguishing the candle. Axel ducked down with her, and they hid their, as they watched a librarian watch-man walk into the reading room. The man stepped down the steps, and flashed his torch around. His nametag stated that he was Wally Eren Fredrich, and he was on night duty. Wally walked toward the table where the skull candle had been. Niggles grabbed and somehow pocketed it before the man shone his torch to the table. But there was something else there. Balg stood on the table, his beard waving in an unseen and unheard wind, and smiled. ‘Ello, uman,’ Balg grinned impishly. ‘Oe have walked into private affairs ere. So, I ighly suggest at oe faint like a babby…NOW!’ and Balg yelled into Wally’s face, his yellow teeth dripping slobber. Wally screamed, fell backwards, and banged his head against the chair behind him. ‘Messy,’ grumbled Kelk as she and Axel dragged Wally into the nearest enclosed space, which happened to be a broom cupboard. ‘Now,’ Niggles said, ‘back to business. As you have agreed to fight the Bane of Knowledge,’ Axel made an indignant noise, ‘we will help you through all that happens. The first step is to get you down into the catacombs of the library. There the Bane was reborn. You might find some clues there.’ Axel finally burst out, ‘but I never agreed to do this! You can’t force me to!’ ‘But you have to!’ Kelk said. ‘The fate of the world is at stake!’ Niggles said. ‘Is the fickle uman boy too scared?’ Balg said in a baby voice. ‘Does e want is mummy? Is e gonna go screaming back, scared of everything and anyones?’ It was this, more than anything else, that made Axel stop. He breathed deeply, in, and out. ‘Alright,’ Axel said slowly. ‘I’ll do it. Now, what do we do first?’ Chapter 4 Axel and the three elves walked down the corridor leading to the catacombs. ‘I still don’t get it,’ Axel said for the fourteenth time. ‘Why hasn’t the Bane destroyed everything yet?’ ‘Because,’ Niggles said patiently, also for the fourteenth time, ‘the Bane of Knowledge feeds off fear. The disappearances haven’t caused enough panic to get the effect of the blind panic that it loves. We should use this time to find out the Bane of Knowledge’s weakness, and trap it.’ They arrived at the archives. Metal shelves lined the walls, covered with interesting things like hair, death masks, a rifle, and what looked like an elephant’s bone. Axel admired the objects, but the elves walked straight past everything. ‘Where are we going?’ Axel asked nervously, his eyes darting everywhere. ‘We ain’t gonna go anywhere,’ Balg said. ‘oe’re the leader, so lead on!’ ‘OK,’ Axel said. Then, they came to an intersection. Axel went right. Suddenly, he hit something with his foot. ‘OW!’ Axel cried, grabbing his foot. Balg laughed. Kelk, meanwhile, leant down to inspect the thing Axel had kicked. ‘It’s a lever!’ she said excitedly. ‘Let me,’ Balg muttered, shoving Kelk out of the way, and grabbing the lever. He pulled. Nothing. ‘A incy bit o elp ere?’ he said to Axel. Axel reached down and pulled. The lever gave way, and clicked. There was a silence. Nothing happened. Niggles groaned. ‘It’s a fake!’ he said. Just then, there was a rumble, and the entire corridor opened up under them! They fell, screaming, into the abyss. They fell for a terrifying 2 seconds, until Axel hit something soft. Niggles landed on top of him, Kelk landed on top of Niggles, and Balg landed on all of them. Axel shook off the three elves, and looked around. He seemed to have landed on a huge cushion of foam. Around him was a smaller collection of stuff. But it seemed, that this was more rare, exotic things. A huge snake skull. A tablet covered with runes. A sword that seemed to whisper. Axel tried to see through the dark, but he couldn’t. ‘Wait,’ Niggles said. Axel turned to see him close his eyes, stick his fingers in his ears, and concentrate hard. Slowly, he started to float into the air. Then, with a loud pop, Niggles’ head turned bright blue, and he fell on the ground. ‘What…how…huh?’ Axel stuttered, staring at the bright blue headed Niggles. ‘It’s a trick that all elves learn from youth,’ Niggles said. ‘All elves have luminescent heads.’ They walked through the shelves, and they saw more and more strange objects. A digeridoo. A fish mask. Two flipflops shaped like skulls. Suddenly, Niggle’s head’s light sputtered, and died. Balg bellowed out in pain, slipped and fell onto the ground, clutching at his foot. Axel leant down to inspect the foot, and found a purple shard in it. ‘Qualkinite,’ Kelk hissed in repulsion. The shard was small, but it seemed to be giving Balg great pain. He hissed through his teeth, and his eyes rolled back. ‘What’s Qualkinite?’ Axel asked. ‘Qualkinite is a rare, rare mineral,’ Kelk said. ‘It drains any magical creature’s powers, and touching it is worse. Can you pull it out?’ Axel grabbed hold of it. Suddenly, he felt sick, like he wanted to throw up. Then, the pain started. It racked his whole body, shaking it with fear. Through the pain, he managed to pull it out, and throw it onto the ground. Instantly, the pain stopped. ‘What…what just happened?’ Axel asked. ‘I forgot!’ Kelk cried. ‘You have a magic in you as well. The Qualkinite must have a similar hold on you too. I’m sorry.’ Niggles, who was standing next to Balg, pulled him to his feet. Then, Axel smacked his forehead in frustration. ‘What?’ Niggles asked. ‘I had a torch in my pocket this whole time, and I didn’t even use it!’ he exclaimed, digging his hand into his pocket, and pulling out the torch. He switched it on, and stared at the ground in front of them. It was littered with the Qualkinite shards. And in the center, was a leather case. Cracked Qualkinite lined the case. It was brown, and ancient. The case was ripped and torn, as if in fury. Balg, leaning against Niggles for support, gasped. ‘The tomb of the Bane of knowledge!’ he exclaimed. ‘This is what contained the Bane?’ Axel asked in amazement. ‘The Qualkinite kept it imprisoned,’ Kelk said, ‘but it must have failed under the fury of the Bane of Knowledge.’ Axel glimpsed something in the case, and moved forward. His shoes squeaked as he moved through the Qualkinite. He reached into the case, and pulled out…an old torn book. Axel made his way to the elves, and stared at the book. The title was, the diary of Terry Delimand. Everyone gasped, as the truth sunk in. The great capturer of the Bane had his diary in here. ‘This as to ave useful knowledge on ow to trap the Bane!’ Balg grinned excitedly. ‘Open it!’ Axel opened the book reverently. The pages were almost all ripped out, and the ones that remained were half filled. Axel read the parts he could. ‘The great battle…captured the Bane of Knowledge…buried safely…should not have done it…’ ‘what does that mean?’ Axel asked. ‘I dunno,’ Balg said. Then he froze. Staring at something behind Axel. Axel slowly turned around. And stared. A black shadow, with two, scarlet red eyes, stared at him out of the shadows. Tendrils of darkness coiled from the creature. ‘Peek-a-boo,’ it rasped. Chapter 5 Axel tried to scream, but his tongue had gotten stuck to the roof of his mouth. The elves had no problem in doing that though. Kelk shrieked, Niggles yelped, and Balg yelled. The three elves backed off, moving away from the Bane of Knowledge as it approached. Axel felt rooted to the spot as the Bane swirled toward him. Then it was on him, enveloping him, sucking at him. Axel found himself face to face with it. Its red eyes gleamed in the dark. There were no features other than the eyes. The eyes enveloped every sense, every feeling, every moment in his life. And the eyes contained anger. Pure, red-hot, furious anger, and surprisingly, sadness. The eyes spoke at him out of the darkness. And this is what they said. ‘Freedom,’ they seemed to say. ‘Freedom. Freedom. Freedom. Freedom! Your ancestors tore my freedom away from me. And you have come to do the same. I will destroy you, and I will be free once more. Free to reign. Free to go back. Free…to go home. Now, you will die!’ And the Bane of Knowledge struck out, wrapping Axel in a stranglehold. Axel struggled, but it was futile. The creature, though made of shadow, was stronger than anything that he had ever felt before. And he was forced to stare into its eyes. Slowly, ever so slowly, Axel’s mind started going blank. His body went limp. He could hear Balg, Kelk and Niggles shouting in the background, but he didn’t care. ‘Death is sweet,’ the eyes said. ‘Welcome death.’ And Axel almost did. Almost. When suddenly, a blazing flash of light burst out of his body! it shone all around him, and hit the Bane of Knowledge like a brick wall, shoving it away. The Bane screamed, and vanished. Axel was released, and fell onto the stone floor. Above him, he could see the ghostly image of an old Aboriginal man with war paint all over his body. ‘Eken revo xalatin!’ he said cheerfully. ‘gamnokb werrawerra yioup?’ Then, he looked down, and saw Axel lying at his feet. ‘Oh!’ he said in English. ‘I’m late! Quickly Balg, help me with him.’ ‘Soup,’ Axel mumbled. ‘Creamy soup. 5 creamy soups.’ Then, he passed out. Chapter 6 When Axel woke, the second time in the night, there was a clock above his head. The clock stated, 11:47. ‘Where…where am I?’ he muttered, staring up at the clock. His head throbbed painfully. ‘Oh good, you’re awake!’ cried a familiar voice from up above. Axel peered around the clock, to see the Aboriginal man again. The second thing he saw, were 5 creamy (and by creamy, there was a lot of cream on the top) soups. Axel peered around some more, and saw that they were still in the library. This part of the library must have still been in the levels underground, as it was dimly lit, and the iron shelves were still there. ‘What just happened?’ Axel asked. ‘Wise Man just saved you from the Bane of Knowledge,’ squeaked Kelk, who was holding the clock. ‘It hates light.’ ‘So, ave we found anying usfull?’ Balg asked, with his usual bad grammar. ‘Or was e entire missin usless?’ ‘I brought the leather case and the diary,’ Wise Man (as apparently that was his name) said. ‘I am a ghost, so Qualkinite doesn’t hurt me.’ ‘But since you’re a ghost,’ Axel said, ‘shouldn’t the things just go through your body?’ ‘Nah,’ Wise Man said, ‘those ghosts are the fake ghosts. Real ghosts can hold things, but they can still go through things. Anyway, since you are the leader, lead on! What are we to do?’ Axel racked his brain for a solution, but couldn’t find one. It didn’t help that the elves and ghost kept giving outrageous suggestions. ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘I know! We grab it, and shove it down the toilet!’ ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘We could send it back in time!’ ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘Could we glue it to a wall?’ ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘How about we ask it to go away?’ ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘We can trap it with magic.’ ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite!’ ‘Wait, what did you just say?’ Axel asked. ‘E could blow it up ith Dynimite?’ Balg asked hopefully. ‘No, not that,’ Axel said. ‘The thing Niggles said.’ ‘Trap it with magic?’ Wise Man said, looking thoughtful. ‘That is what we did before, but the Bane won’t fall for the same trick again. We’ll have to use the Qualkinite on something else. Empty your pockets!’ Axel had nothing, as his stuff had been taken by Balg. Kelk brought out a bone, a diary, and a beautiful green and red feather. Niggles had 2 bouncy balls, a lunch box, three batteries, and a pendant with a small emerald set into the end. Balg had to be turned upside-down to shake all the stuff out of his clothes. Out of his pockets fell the torch that Axel had brought, a snotty hankie, a library book that was about 20 years overdue, 3 empty candy wrappers, and the crust of a pizza. Out of his shoes fell a knife, another knife, a blow torch, 1 extra pair of socks, and a startled looking frog. ‘Well,’ Wise Man said, ‘let’s see. We could use the socks. No, they aren’t airtight. The frog? Nah, every time it opens its mouth the Bane will have a free exit. The lunch box…the lunch box. Airtight, made out of plastic, not much escape, yes, we’ll use the lunch box!’ ‘Sure, it’s easy for you to say,’ Niggles said, ‘but we can’t touch the Qualkinite! You’ll have to make it on your own.’ ‘Okay…’ Wise Man said, ‘it’ll probably take a while, but I think we…I can do it. Niggles, hand me the battery. We’re going speed mode!’ Niggles handed Wise man the battery, and he put it to his tongue. The electricity surged through Wise Man’s body, and he yelped, and glowed a bright blue, like Niggles had. Then, he got to it. His hands moved faster than light, faster than time itself as he worked. He was a blur, a fizz, a nothing. Every time he slowed down, he put the battery back on his tongue, and started working again. ‘What is happening?’ Axel asked in amazement, as he watched the whizzing blur that was Wise Man. ‘Ghosts ave a sorta special ability,’ Balg said. ‘lectricity makes em faster. Racts ith their brains. Dead still ave powers oe know!’ Even though Wise Man was literally moving at the speed of light, he was just one person…ghost, and this was a precariously hard job. It was like a jigsaw puzzle. The Qualkinite had to be placed in just the right spot to slip in with the other pieces, and then fused into the lunch box with the blow torch. There were continuous frustrated grunts, sighs, annoyed noises, and ughs. When the final piece had been slotted in, 2 entire hours had passed. ‘Well now, it’s finished!’ Wise Man announced, holding up the lunch box in triumph. The edges gleamed purplish in the light. ‘Now, let’s discuss the plan.’ Chapter 7 Axel wandered around the corridors of the State library. He kept his eyes on every shadow, every dark spot, anything that could be the Bane of Knowledge. Then, he found it. Axel caught his breath as he turned a corner in the corridor, and saw the shadowy form, slumped underneath a whole bunch of globe things. ‘Hey, you!’ Axel shouted, staring at the Bane. ‘Bet you can’t catch me!’ and he ran. The Bane of Knowledge started, stared around, and rasped, ‘bet I can.’ And they were off, Axel running like his life depended on it (which it actually did, once you think of the circumstances), and the Bane zooming off behind him, laughing maniacally as it went. Axel ran into through the reading room, ran down the stairs to the catacombs, ran through the shelves. But as he ran, he could feel his legs tiring, his chest heaving, his brain roaring at him to just take a rest. And suddenly, Axel tripped. He fell, sprawled out on the floor, and looked up as the Bane of Knowledge swirled above him. ‘Time for death, little boy,’ it rasped. Suddenly, from one of the shelves came a blast of light, as Wise Man sped out of a teapot. The Bane of Knowledge shrieked, and stumbled (if moving backwards jerkily counts as stumbling) back…right into the lunch box which Axel had tripped on! Balg and Kelk jumped on either side to trap it, and Niggles jumped on the top. As Axel watched, he saw the eyes. they blazed out with anger, fury, and…was that sadness? Longing? Something in those eyes made Axel pause. He raised his hand to stop the elves. ‘What do you want most in the whole world?’ he asked. The Bane stopped struggling. It paused, then said in a small voice, not at all like the voice it had been using, ‘I want to go home.’ Behind him, Wise Man yelped, and said, ‘of course! Let it go, elves.’ The elves reluctantly let go of the lid, and the Bane crept slowly out. It slowly shrank, until it looked exactly like a little girl. ‘Can you take me back?’ she asked. Wise Man made a frustrated noise, and smacked himself in the forehead. ‘Of course she wants to go home!’ he exclaimed. ‘she’s been separated from all she knew, and probably from her family to! That must have been why she wrecked so much havoc! She was angry at us for bringing her up to this world!’ and to the girl that was the Bane, ‘of course you can go home! I’m so sorry for bringing you here. We’ll send you back straight away!’ ‘Call me Lilly,’ Lilly said. ‘Thank you.’ ‘We have to go to the roof of the library,’ Wise Man said, can you take us there, Lilly?’ ‘Alright,’ she said, and she transformed back into the shadowy mass that she had been all along. Everyone got on, and Lilly shot upwards. Axel felt as if he was water, as he seemed to slide through the ceiling time and time again, until they reached the roof. ‘Help me with this, elves,’ Wise Man said. The elves and Wise Man got in a square position, and started chanting in a strange language, getting louder, and louder, until their voices were booming across the air. Then, all of them raised their hands in the air, and a dark portal opened up in the centre. ‘Thank you,’ Lilly said again, and then she jumped into the portal. The last thing Axel saw before the portal closed, was Lilly’s happy face. Then, it was gone. Epilogue Axel sat, quiet, on the wall outside the State Library, as he watched the sun set. It had been several months since the Bane…Lilly, had gone back to her family. He sighed, and slid down, and yelped as he nearly landed on the head of a little elf, underneath him! ‘Balg!’ Axel said, looking at the little elf. ‘What are you doing here?’ ‘I’m ere,’ Balg said, ‘cuz the time as come. Omething big’s appening!’ ‘What?’ Axel said. ‘Wise man,’ Balg said, ‘e’s done it again. We’re all going to die unless you come!’ then, the library exploded!

The Silver Blade    By Samantha Nam 5/12/2022                  The stars were scattered across the sky like spilled marbles. The lonely caw of a crow could be heard in the still night air. Lights were dotted around the village as people got ready for sleep to overwhelm them. The only creatures awake now were the animals that feasted on the darkness. Yet as the clocks struck midnight, a girl appeared at the library. She was no ordinary girl, for she had a mission and her name was Raven. The faint sound of clocks striking midnight could be heard from the village. Raven leaned against the library walls as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her. The library was overflowing with books but Raven had not come for them. Crooked shadows covered the walls and the ominous ticking of the clock filled the room. Suddenly, Raven froze. The clocks had stopped ticking. Slowly, she turned around and was met with two piercing eyes. In front of her was a figure in a khaki jacket with a belt and a rifle. That was the last thing Raven saw before everything went black.   The moment she regained consciousness, Raven could tell something was wrong. A haunted feeling had crept into her chaining her feelings. She remembered the glowing figure and looked around to find a trace of where it went. She was horrified to find it had been watching and waiting all along. Suddenly, it began to speak.   If you put yourself in mortal danger, you shall meet a prowling stranger. Diamonds and opals are known as nobles. To kill this creature, use your feature. A glinting object, you must protect. It'll save your life, the silver knife. The ghostly poacher reached out towards Raven. It was as if she was in a trance. Hypnotized. His icy cold hands gripped her. Memories of the past came flooding back to Raven. She was part of the legend. The legend of the the shadow wolves. They had wispy shadows for fur, claws as black as obsidian and eyes as red as rubies. They would let out haunted hollow howls to let their victims know their fate was sealed. The poachers had hunted them down one by one but perhaps they had missed one. Raven shook her head trying to get the spooky image out of her mind. She slowly walked over to the glass cases of artifacts chilled by the lifelike encounter. She saw a ring emblazoned with the royal crown and curiously, she slipped it on her finger. She tried to open the catch but it was jammed. As Raven took a leather case, she asked the poacher if anyone had tried to kill the shadow wolves and made it out alive. One person had and that was her great grandmother. Raven opened the case and a bright aura of light flooded her eyes. It was the silver knife.   Captured by the beauty of the blade she wasn't prepared for the blood curdling scream. Raven was unsteady on her feet. Together, all these events made sense. She had finally realized that her destiny was entwined with the legend and she may lose her life trying to kill the beast.   Raven heard a light click come from her hand and she saw the ring had opened and from inside fluttered a sheet of paper. It was a diagram from the book of animal anatomy. To a normal person it was rubbish, but to Raven it was the key. Raven ran to the shelf that had the book of animal anatomy and pulled it out. She heard a metallic grinding sound as the shelf pulled away becoming a doorway. Raven stepped inside clutching the silver blade. The creaky hinges of the shelf were closing. Now there was only one way to go. Most people would have gone mad in this labyrinth but not Raven. She ignored every cry for help, every shattering scream. It was all a lie. After what seemed like countless days and countless nights, Raven arrived at a clearing. Here would be a legend. A legend set into stone. About a girl and her quest to defeat the shadow wolves. Raven could feel the air buzzing with anticipation. This was where she would have the battle. The battle to death. Slowly a hunched twisted figure appeared out of the shadows. It had souls for fur, no longer pure but black stained with fury and hatred. It had bright piercing ruby red eyes and claws as dark as obsidian. It was hungry for blood.  The wolf unleashed its pitiful souls in an attempt to chain her together. Raven grabbed her blade and cut away the chains. The shadow wolf created a storm of black vines and trapped Raven in it. Slowly it tightened the black vines suffocating her. Yet, Raven had a trick up her sleeve. She grabbed the silver blade and in one swift motion, she sliced through the sticky thorny vines. She would not be easily defeated. Raven raised the silver blade above her head and plunged it into the heart of the shadow wolf. She was engulfed in a bright light and the last thing she saw were white wisps leaving the husk of the shadow wolf. Rest in peace little souls.  Raven awoke in the beanbags. Surely it was all a dream ? She looked at her belt and saw the tarnished silver blade edged with blood. She looked out of the window and saw the sun rise out of the clouds. The library was about to open and Raven did not want to be seen in there. As she was about to leave, a message carved itself into the blade. ' I will be back' . Two years later...... The sky was painted bright blue and not a cloud was in sight. Raven pushed open the glass doors of the state library. She breathed in the musky smell of books and entered the library. The library had tried to cover up the bloodshed but the horror of the shadow wolves still stained the building. It would never stand quite as tall or proud for it bored the battle of a dangerous creature. Raven would never forget that day. It was seared into her memory. She looked around the library and her eyes locked onto a bright red ruby. Her worst nightmare was coming true, for that was the eye of a shadow wolf.

The Medal I was here again. The thought ricocheted in my brain as I stood in front of the train station. The lights flickered time to time giving the station an abandoned sense. Paint peeled from the walls and the railway was rusted and cracked. The monotonous sound of the clock ticking filled the room. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. It was enough to drive you mad. I turned and walked up the stairs eager to be released from the gloomy prison of the dark station. The wind smacked me in the face making me gasp. It stung my cheeks and made my eyes water. What now? I had gone all this way yet there was no reason. The sun had surrendered to the moon and now an inky blackness crept across the town. Aimlessly, I wandered down streets. I didn't know if it was fate that had twisted my path, but when I looked up, the state library looked above me. It stood tall and proud in all its glory of bushes and flowers. The moonlight showered a dim glow onto the sandstone pillars. A light breeze swept over my hair and as if a cue, I stepped in. The faint chirping of crickets could be heard from outside. My footsteps echoed around the empty building. I hadn't come for the books but I still felt something pulling me deeper into the library. As I ventured in, I saw purple sparks that had shot out from a bookshelf. Curious I bent down to look. Immediately, I regretted that move. I was paralysed to the spot, the menacing aura holding me in a tightening grip. I tried to scream but no sound came out. The shadows engulfed me and I was thrown back at the force of it. The glowing purple light intensified and my arms tingled as the light brushed them. Nowhere to hide now. A voice spoke in my mind, slurred but enticing. I leaned in. No one will remember. I have come. A powerful blast of light threw me against the wall and the room glowed white, pure white that danced in spots across my eyes blinding me, then it turned black. It hurt to look. Every light seemed intensified and sharp colours blinded me. Rubble and loose books created a nest around me, and I turned around painfully to see that a chunk of the wall was gone. I lay there in the rubble when something caught my eye. A shadow danced across my vision and I reached out to grab it. Though it was small, a shiver went down my spine as I held it, unnaturally cold. I quickly let go of it and it flitted around my head before retreating into the shelves. I stood up slowly, digging my feet into the ground as I wobbled. I was about to leave when something shimmered in my nest. I bent down and pulled it out. It was a medal rusted with age. It shined a dull silver and it was tied to a thick rope. I held it in my palm and stood back up. The shadow had returned and it was now examining me curiously. A book on a shelf caught my eye. It glowed a deep purple and floral emblems covered it. Reaching out I pulled it, but what came out was not the book, but a passage. Cogs whirred and the mechanism twisted into a door. Where the shelf was, there was now a stone archway. I looked at the shadow and as if a cue, it disappeared into the archway. Taking a breath, I followed it into the unknown darkness of the passage. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and the first thing I saw were giant tongues of flame. They glowed a deep purple and they flickered over the floor casually. The walls rose to a dizzying height and runes were etched into them. The air in the chamber hung with perspiration and the flames emitted wild smoking fumes. I tensed. Turning around, I saw two unblinking eyes staring back at me. They shimmered in the air and colours swirled in their crystalline depths. I stood, entranced by their intricacy. Looking closely, I realised that the faint outline of a body could be seen. A soft voice brought by an invisible breeze snuck into my ear. I am back. You do not remember me do you? The voice faded into the air leaving me slightly confused. The voice was familiar yet, how could that be? I should have learnt to not trust entrancing voices by now. Pure white light had once again blinded me and I soon realised that the voice was the same one I had heard earlier. Now defeated, I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. I could not help but think of the familiarity of the voice. Soft and enchanting yet underneath was of hard intentions. Who did that remind me of? I closed my eyes in a vain attempt to rouse sleep, but I was not welcomed. Suddenly, the truth dawned on me. I knew who the figure was. I slowly rose and paced around the chamber. The medal still hung around my neck and I chose to examine it more closely. A name was inscribed on the side but age seemed to have covered it up. It was a simple design with nothing else but the royal emblem on it. I leaned against the wall but instead of a hard surface, I felt air. I stepped through the doorway and walked into another room. It's as smaller but grander with swooping curtains and a chandelier. A figure sat at a small desk and it looked up to reveal the two iridescent eyes. I backed away slowly as the figure stood up. Don't worry. You know who I am. And the figure warped into someone I did in fact know. A tear slid down my cheek. "Grandma?" Come my darling. It has been too long. I stood up and followed her into a room. I have waited a long, long time to avenge my death. I looked confused. "What are you talking about?"Yes, I will have my revenge. A burst of light shot out from her hand and binded me. This was not Grandma. No, it was someone else entirely. I slumped against the wall and examined the medal again. I blinked. It had changed! I watched as it morphed. Now all that was on it was the words 'This holds the secret.' The ghostly figure had come back. I had to use my wits if I wanted to make it out alive. I stood up and unbinded myself with the medal. The ghost was outraged. In an attempt to cocoon me, it released wispy shadows that weaved themselves into a coffin. Except it wouldn't be mine. I held the medal like a shield and I heard a blood curdling scream. The soul of the ghost was sucked out of its body and into the medal. I guess it's strength was also its weakness. Three Years later... The clouds heaved and grumbled as a storm was ready to be released. I ran to the nearest building and took cover. I didn't mean to stumble into the state library, but I had and now memories clouded my mind. Everything seemed to be normal but underneath the library were the memories that still pulsed with horror. I slumped into an armchair and was about pick a book when a straggly figure caught my eye. The figure looked up at me and a pair of eyes I would have chosen to never see again, stared back at me.

Cold bony hands grabbed my wrist as I jumped in fright. I looked around with bewilderment as I was dragged across the wooden floor. I caught a brief glimpse of who was holding me. I didn’t believe it, it was Rumpy! Suddenly a wicked idea popped into my head! I could bargain with him! “Rumpy . . . “ I began to say but my words were drowned by distant chattering. Ahead of us was a large metal door that looked like a big boulder loomed in front of us. Then I started again “ Rumpy, please why are you doing this!?” “It’s worth it, you have no respect for me so why should I keep you alive? “ Rumpy replied “ But I didn’t do anything! “ I desperately snapped back. “ I will keep you rotting in my dungeon “ boomed Rumpy. I was speechless as my mind searched for words to keep from being thrown into the dungeon. Questions started to bubble up in my head but I was thrown down onto the hard tiles. The door slammed shut. I felt around blindly and felt something was weird. There was a little crack in between the tiles and slowly I lifted it up. I gasped as a long spiral staircase led down, down, down. The rails had specks of dust on them and the stairs were crumpled, the walls were made of sandstone and there were cobwebs everywhere. It started to smell like an antique shop as I stepped carefully onto one of the steps. As small chunks of sand dropped onto the steps below me as I stepped lightly onto each step descending deeper and deeper underground. There! I had to stop myself from screaming with delight as I saw light streaming in I flew down the steps towards a bright light that seemed to be sunlight streaming in. As I neared the end of the steps, I saw it was a nut. There was a little sheet of crumbled paper but it was still readable from an appropriate distance. I carefully slipped the paper out of its place and began to read. To whom It may concern, Using this very nut you can defeat Rumpy, I once knew him very well but he betrayed me for a nut, his Favorited thing. Sooooooo I kinda invented a nut to defeat him and I am writing this right now because I am in Rumpy's dungeon and am about to die so now I will get on with it. Put this nut in a tissue and give it to Rumpy to ea . . . **********. Oh no I thought desperately I took off the lid and grabbed the nut she reached into he pocket rummaging through her stuff. Ah! that's it! A Napkin I put the nut in and ran back up the stairs and back into the dim light of the dungeon just as Rumpy opened the door "Nuts" He growled and said "give em to me" "OK" I snapped, He snatched it out of my hand and shoved it into his drooling mouth. "I feeel . . sooo . . . sleeeppy" and he vanished into thin air. . . . TO BE CONTINUED . . . .

New South Wales. I hadn’t been here for two 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, 878 km 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 found out 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. Right? I shook my head. And lifted my chin. Whoever had called me, I would find them, find out why they called me and then I’d return. I tiptoed up the steps, being careful not to make any noise. At one point I was distracted and I fell grazing my knee. But that didn’t stop me, I kept going, until I reached the doors, and a problem appeared. I would not be able to get into the library, the doors would be locked. I reached for the handle anyway and the door opened. I pushed it 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, silent and 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. Emily noticing the map for the first time. The man creeping up behind her. Then Emily 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.” ****** So many questions swirled around in my head as I stared at the ghost. How did he know I was coming? How did he know my name? Who is he? I thought ghosts weren’t real Mum, how do you explain this? And why does he look so familiar? Luckily for me, all my questions were answered in one sentence, “Sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself yet. I’m David Scott Mitchell, I am the founder of this library and I’ve been sent to find you by the orders of Emily York, who I believe is your sister.” Annoyingly, his answers made new questions pop into my head, so I decided to ask the first question that came to my mind, “Why are you alive?” “I would consider that rude, but you have never seen a ghost before, so you ---” What he just said made my jaw drop, I had so I couldn’t wait any longer, I did the unbearable, unspeakable, I interrupted, “So you're actually a ghost, not a figment of my over curious imagination that may have lead me to hear a voice and ” Interrupting had always been a big no, no in my family, we had been taught to be patient and to wait, we’d been told it was rude, very rude. But, with all that worrying about what Mum would say if she knew, I forgot about another rule I had just broken. “Shhhhhhhhh! This is a library!” David Scott Mitchel shouted, breaking the rule he’d just called me out on for breaking. “Sorry. Wait, what about Emily, is she a ghost, too?” He nodded. “Can I see her?” He nodded and walked. “Wait! Come back here, where are you going?!” David Scott Mitchell kept walking, I couldn’t believe it, he didn’t even care that I’d just shouted in a library. So, even though I should have known better than to follow a ghost I had only just met through a library that I hadn’t been in for four years in the middle of the night, I followed him. And so, we walked, and walked some more, and walked a bit more and --- Something flashed at the corner of my eyes. In the doorway was a man, tall, wrinkled and pale, but not as pale as the ghost that was walking in front of me. I could tell the doorway man was searching for something, I could tell, by the way his face was tilted, and the way his eyes widened as he saw me, his eyes blood red, veins pulsing rapidly, I knew what had just happened, he recognised me. I ran. I ran fast, sprinted down ten different hallways, then I stopped. And David Scott Mitchell was standing right beside me. “This way,” he said. We walked into the galleries, where artworks hung on walls, then we stopped. I was very determined to get as far away as possible from that, what’d you call it, thing, as possible, “Come on. Why have we stopped?” Then I saw. A door had opened, like a bit of the wall had just cracked and swung open, it was a very confusing sight. “Come.” David Scott Mitchell said. Then he disappeared through the door, and very soon afterward, I did too. Inside was a hallway, a big giant hallway, that seemed to stretch on forever. SLAM! I jumped. And quickly turned around, nothing was there, it was only the door closing. I continued to follow David Scott Mitchell through the hallway, and then down another. This time it was bigger, with colourful doors on either side, ghosts walking in and out, nodding “hello” to David Scott Mitchell as they passed, not taking any notice of me. “Stay here.” We were standing outside of a sage green door, with the letters E.Y written in gold writing. David Scott Mitchell was gone, I guessed he was in the room. So I waited, and waited then I listened, because I was very good at listening through doors. I heard voices, two, David Scott Mitchell’s and someone else's, someone young. “Yes, miss.” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “Alright, I’m ready to see her.” And with that, footsteps sounded, I pulled away from the door. It opened, and David Scott Mitchell came out, “She’s ready to see you.” He held the door open for me to step in, and I did, very, very nervously. “Hillary!” The girl in the seat jumped up in joy. She was about eight, wide eyes and hair in pigtails. For a second I didn’t know her, she was just another ghost, a kid ghost, but still a ghost, and then I saw her. Saw her jumping over the waves at the beach, choosing a birthday present for Mum, choosing a fish at the pet shop. This wasn’t just a ghost, this was Emily, the girl who didn’t deserve to die that day, the girl I called my sister. ****** Emily was alive (not really, she’s a ghost), she was happy, she was also very very scared. Of the man in the doorway, who she told me was Henry Lawson. “Henry Lawson?” I stare at Emily in disbelief, “But didn’t he die like 100 years ago?” Emily nodded, “Yes, he did. I’m confused too. But that doesn’t matter, I just want to find out why he’s looking for me, and why he’s so desperate to find me. Why is he travelling into human minds to make them look for me? I want to know.” “And you want me to find out and stop him, don’t you?” “Yes, I do. If you don’t mind.” “I don’t. But there is one teensy problem” I said, remembering the look of recognition on Henry Lawson’s face when he saw me. “What is that?” “Well, I’ve seen him.” “What?! Hillary! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Emily hopped from her seat clearly worried. “Well, until you gave the description, I didn’t know who he was. And he sorta, kinda, maybe looked like he knew who I was.” Emily’s face was pale, really pale, seeing that she was a ghost. “No. No. No. No. No. This can’t - just no.” Then she took a big deep breath, but didn’t breath in any air, “Ok. Hillary, don’t worry. He doesn’t know you so he shouldn’t recognise you. So don’t worry. Just find out what he wants ok. And be safe.” I nodded, “I will.” Then I left and David Scott Mitchell led me down two other hallways to a door painted mustard yellow with the letters H.Y written in gold writing on it. My initials. “Excuse me, Mr Mitchell, I was just wondering why -” “Your initials are on this door?” David Scott Mitchel finished my question, “Also, Miss Hillary, I prefer to be called Dave, or Scotty, that’s what my friends call me.” “I’m your friend?” I couldn’t believe this, I was friends with a famous person. “Yes. Any friend of Emily’s is a friend of mine.” “Why do you care for Emily so much?” “Well, she reminds me of a woman I once loved, Emily Matilda. And she was so lonely here, so I told her I’d be her father, so she'd have family with her. Until, at least, when you die and she will have someone familiar.” Tears welled up in my eyes, “Thankyou.” I said, half-crying, then I hugged him. “Thank you, Dave.” ****** I set off to find Henry Lawson half an hour later. Dave said he was happy to come but I told him that he had to stay with Emily. I completely regretted that just after the door in the wall closed, wishing I had someone with me. Henry Lawson was creepy, and I barely knew my way around the state library. Before I left Emily told me to search the stacks, which she presumed was where Henry Lawson hid when he wasn’t roaming the halls. She also told me quite a bit about resurrected humans. Like how they can’t eat or drink, or read, they have no knowledge whatsoever. Which means they are being controlled by someone else. But who? I walk down stairs, following the map Dave had drawn for me. Until I reached the first level of the stacks. Shelves and shelves full of millions of year old objects. A few had labels. And two were just labels, at first I thought the labels were the old object, then I read them and realised what the labels said. Henry Lawson Death Mask Henry Lawson Hand Cast Whoever had resurrected Henry Lawson must have taken these to do so. I went down to the next level, then the next. This one had quite a few ancient books on the shelves so I took my time, examining each one carefully, trying my best not to sniff them, because the smell of old books is mesmerizing. I turned the corner. Then I froze. The figure sitting on the desk a few feet away from me ran, dropping everything in their hands. Then disappeared in a puff of smoke. Magic. I neared the desk. On it was a teacup, with still-warm tea inside. It was white with little pictures of waratahs on it, it looked so familiar. And the other object, a newspaper dated on the 8th of May 2018. Who would want to read a newspaper from that long ago. I scanned the front page for any sign of interesting news when I saw Emily’s name. This wasn’t just any newspaper, this was the newspaper from the day fell. The day journalist Thalia Glasshouse interviewed us, and the day we left. Leaving every memory of Emily in New South Wales. Then I read. Thalia made everything so sad and realistic, it felt like I was reliving that day. CRASH! I jumped, and I screamed. It was the creepy guy, Henry Lawson, I knew it was. I began thinking that I would never make it back to Melbourne. I turned slowly, bracing myself for the blood-red eyes of Henry Lawson. But I only saw a ghost. Not a human ghost though, it was the ghost of a cat. ****** I breathed out in relief. And bend down to pet the cat. But of course, the cat was a ghost and my hand went straight through it. “Right.” I said to myself, realising. I stood up and went back to the desk. The teacup had cooled down, and the warm smell had vanished. So I decided to leave. Turning on the spot to face the stairs, I noticed someone. They were pale, and tall, with large blood-red eyes. Henry Lawson. I wanted to run, but I was too curious. Henry Lawson seemed sad, but he was after Emily, so he had to go. I grabbed the closest object and held it high above my head. “STOP!” The voice was hoarse and wrinkled. I stopped, I knew I probably shouldn’t have. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just need Emily.” “Why?” I ask, this was my only chance to get the answers. “My master. He wants her dead.” “She’s already dead,” I exclaimed, then, after the last puzzle piece of my question was completed in my mind, I added, “He killed her.” “Well, clearly, she is still in some way alive, she can still communicate with living humans.” “So she knew something?” “I believe so.” “Why doesn’t he find her?” “He doesn’t want to be seen. And so he brought me back to life, even though I was quite happy living as a dead human. I just want to be dead again, it’s so peaceful.” “Is there anything I can do to stop him?” Henry Lawson nods. And points to the newspaper in my hand. “See those two words, the ones that say “evil matter” that is an anagram of time travel. You just have to read that sentence three times and you will be there, in that time. And there could be a possibility that you could save your sister. And I will be free.” I stare at him open mouthed. The guy I thought was evil was actually helping me. I nod. Read the sentence three times and suddenly blackness, an ice-like cold seeping under my clothes into my bones. Then light, bright and blinding. The noise overwhelms me, after silence the voices of everyone in the building is painful, bursting my eardrums. I clasp my hands onto my ears, and fall to the ground. “Hillary, sweetheart, are you ok?” I look up, Mum stands above me, Dad is by her side. “Look, I can explain.” I say, my voice suddenly younger. “What’s the date?” Mum and Dad stare at each other, “It’s the 8th of May. Why are you asking?” “What’s the year?” Dad answers this time, “2020.” I couldn’t believe it, the newspaper had actually worked. I was ten-years-old. Emily was alive, and I was one of the two people who knew that Emily was about to die. “Look at the map!” My head shoots up to see Emily leaning over the railing pointing down at the marble map. I ran over to her, but I did not look down at the map, I was looking for a man, the necromancer. I looked down at my watch, because I wore one back then and screamed. It was loud and hurt my throat, but it got everyone’s attention. “Hillary. This is a library.” Mum whispers sternly in my ear. But I don’t stop. “THIS MAN WAS ABOUT TO PUSH HER!!!” I shouted pointing behind me, where, as I expected, stood a man so familiar looking I couldn’t believe it. In the next fifteen minutes of that day, the police were called and the man was arrested. And I became the star of the newspaper. I smile, I completed my task, Emily was not dead, and Henry Lawson was free. EIGHTH OF MAY 2024 The 4 year anniversary of the day I saved Emily, and the day she told me a secret I will keep for the rest of my life. Until “The Day”. I will forever remember that day, and I will never forget, no matter what. It was 6:00 am when the knock arrived. We all poked our heads out of our rooms, our hair messy and uncombed. “It’s likely a delivery person, they’ll just leave it at the door.” I stared at Mum in disbelief, had she literally forgotten, “The talent scout.” I whisper as I watch a wave of realisation wash across Mum’s face. She stared at me, her eyes wide, telling me to answer the door. I flatten my hair with my hands, take a deep breath and unlock the door, “Hi, how can I help you.” I say in my cheeriest voice. The person at the door was tall, with long hair slicked back into a tight bun. They were wearing a suit. I knew it must be the talent scout. Well, that was until they spoke. “I have a warrant for Hillary and Emily York’s immediate execution.”