Labyrinthine

I am writing to gain a better understanding of my circumstances. Day or night, this place remains unaffected by the passage of time. Darkness reigns here like a silent king in his tomb, undisturbed and unyielding.

It began when I was a student—how long ago that was, I do not remember. I was on a scholarship, and my continued stay at the university and in the dormitory relied on maintaining good grades. Everything revolved around my drive to succeed in my studies, absolutely everything. After class one day, we were tasked with writing an essay on a magical artefact—one I did not possess. I turned to my dear friends, whose names now elude me, who viewed my request for help with disdain. They saw me as an opportunist, exploiting their kindness for my personal gain. Admittedly, I had become overly reliant on their support, as they consistently went out of their way to ensure my place at the university. 

This is when I decided to borrow an artefact from the university's grand library, unbeknownst to the librarians. Approaching the library doors, I was met with a soft blue glow emanating from the thick iron chains tightly coiled around the golden door knobs. Enchanted by a spell, the doors remained locked. Frustration filled my heart as I futilely attempted to push them open, knowing deep down they would not yield. As I decided to leave, I could hear someone frantically banging on the door from within. My heart throbbed in my chest, and I stood still, listening. Minutes passed, but nothing could be heard anymore. I thought nothing of it at the time, perhaps a passing phantasm. After a while, I went to my dorm room and told my friends about my plan to sneak into the library. They declared me insane and informed me that it remained closed during full moon nights due to the university's cautionary measures. The renowned librarians and their predecessors had not catalogued every artefact within their vast collection. The heightened influence of the full moon on the unknown presented a potential risk, leading the university to safeguard its staff and students by sealing the imposing doors. If only I had listened back then.

As the clock tower struck twelve, its resounding bell reverberated through the stillness of the midnight hour. Swiftly rising from my bed, still clad in my school uniform, I ventured out of the dormitory and into the university. Illuminated by flickering wall sconces, the corridor carpet guided me to the library. Strangely, each step I took seemed to provoke a subtle dance of candlelight, which I dismissed in my anticipation. Moonlight from the small windows cast an ethereal glow, enveloping me. The eerie silence was only disrupted by the muffled echoes of my footsteps. Nearing the library doors, I could see the iron chains, which secured the doors past afternoon, lying abandoned on the floor. The blue hue had seemingly dissipated into small starbursts of bright violet. My gaze fixed upon the slightly ajar door, inviting me to peer into the darkness that lay beyond. I questioned who had unlocked the chain, which would have cost a considerable amount of magic and knowledge, but at the time, it felt like an intervention of fate. Someone wanted to help me, whoever or whatever it was.

I stepped over the chains and exerted my strength to push open the weighty doors. Amidst the dimly lit interior, a breathtaking spectacle awaited. Towering windows, meticulously crafted from dark oak, commanded attention as they overlooked countless rows of bookcases. Centuries of dust and grime had settled upon the glass, casting a veil over the outside world and distorting the view beyond—an omen of what was yet to come.

I had visited the library numerous times before to borrow books, but never had I witnessed it bathed in the silver moonlight, nor seen the flickering light and shadow play on the spines of leather-bound books. I was mesmerised, unnaturally so. I walked past the bookcases, letting my hand slowly slide past books, scrolls, and unknown artefacts. The heavy smell of aged paper and wood hung in the air, a most familiar scent. I turned my head to an aisle between two creaking bookcases, noticing the lit candelabras placed neatly on the floor all the way down. The candlelight grew smaller and smaller. I took one step forward, then another and another—there was no end to the aisle. For a few moments, I waited. The golden stands of the candelabras reflected the flickering light and the red carpet underneath. Unable to believe my eyes, I walked forward, streaks of gold and white passing me, seemingly never-ending until I felt an object strike my shin. Catching myself before I fell, I turned to see the culprit—a candelabra lying on the floor with all three wicks lit. Suddenly, I heard something slide behind me and my heart froze. As I turned, my eyes widened in disbelief at the sight that greeted me. A row of candelabras had positioned themselves further down the aisle, their flickering flames casting an eerie glow. The dance of light atop each candlestick seemed to possess a malevolent energy, as if mocking my every movement. With each step I took, the candelabras mirrored my fearful dance, gliding silently and with unsettling stealth, inching backward along the seemingly never-ending aisle. The sight was truly unholy—words fail to capture its essence.

I hastily retreated, the once-golden and white streaks transformed into shades of purple and black as the neat row of candelabras toppled over and snuffed out their light as I sprinted past. Gasping for air, I finally caught sight of the illuminated windows in the distance. Relief surged through me as I approached the familiar glow of the silver light, my heart pounding in my chest. Warm tears streamed down my cheeks as I laughed with joy, determined to put the horrendous ordeal behind me, promising myself that I would leave the cursed library as soon as I reached the exit. But fate had other plans.

In the dwindling light, I noticed a soft creaking sound intensifying with each passing moment. Panic gripped me as I realised that the light I was running to was growing dimmer, obstructed by something moving in front of it—a bookcase. A piercing scream escaped my lips as I desperately continued my sprint towards the fading light, hoping to make it out. But alas, with the vanishing moonlight, my chances dissipated like wisps of smoke. The solid bookcase slid in front of the aisle entrance, a few books tumbling to the floor, forming a barrier in front of me.

I sat in silence for a while, unwilling to turn around, afraid to meet fiery eyes. I knew I had to find a way out of there.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and with a surge of determination, I scanned the surroundings for an escape. They landed on a narrow gap between two bookcases, which revealed a sliver of silver, partially obscured by fallen volumes. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I dove through the opening, narrowly avoiding collisions with dislodged books. The cramped space forced me to squeeze and contort my body, inching my way forward as the oppressive darkness pressed in. With every ounce of strength, I pushed against the resistance of the shelves, finally emerging into an adjacent aisle. Gasping for breath, I glanced back to find the menacing bookcase now immobile, as if thwarted by my escape. Relieved yet wary, I hastened away, determined to find a way out of this labyrinthine nightmare.

I stood by the windows, the full moon still hanging high in the night sky as if it had not moved since I entered. Suddenly, I could hear someone pushing against the door. Gasping, thinking someone had discovered my entry, I hurried to the doors leading to the corridor. I turned the doorknob, but the doors remained stubbornly shut. I attempted to push against them, throwing my body with all my might, but to no avail. Not a creak was to be heard. As a final desperate attempt, I pounded loudly with my fists on the door.

‘Shhhhhhhh,’ a dreadful sound echoed. I snapped my head back and saw it—an arm of a candelabra protruding from behind the bookcase near the window, its wick lit. Aghast, I rushed away from the doors, seeking refuge on the other side of the library, where a quaint desk stood. An oil lamp dimly illuminated a green tome that lay on top of the desk. I approached, leaning onto it as I caught my breath. Every few moments, I glanced back to ensure the absence of those wicked creatures. After what seemed like hours, I leaned against the wall, recollecting my wits. My eyes wandered to the tome, filled with both curiosity and trepidation. I placed my hand atop the dusty cover, and in an instant, a creature snapped out of the pages, screaming. Its skin was black as soot, and it possessed a featureless face. Its arms reached out to me, its neck twisted and turned in unnatural ways. I fell back, crawling into the corner, as far away as possible. The tome fell to the floor as the creature cried in misery, scratching at the carpet. Its cries sounded human, blood-curling and sharp. It seemed to be in pain as it tried to pull itself out of the tome. I watched in horror, my arms flat against the wall, attempting to make myself look small, so as not to invite its wrath upon me.

However, the creature appeared unaffected by my presence. After a few moments, I summoned my courage, rising to my feet. With determination, I grabbed the oil lamp from the desk and hurled it towards the creature, shattering the glass and drenching it in oil. As the flames engulfed the creature, it whispered its gratitude in a barely audible voice, before it disintegrated into ashes.

A profound silence settled over the library once more, its oppressive weight hanging in the air. The once-still bookcases began to shift, groaning and creaking as if possessed by a malevolent force. My heart sank as I watched in terror, realising that the horror I had faced thus far was merely the beginning. 

No matter how fast or far I fled, the library stretched and twisted, warping its dimensions to ensure my eternal torment. The aisles elongated and twisted back upon themselves, leading me deeper into this horrific maze. I slowly paced back to the windows, wondering if shattering them would help me escape, as the doors were now blocked by several bookcases. I looked around to find anything that seemed massive enough to cause the glass to break. My weary eyes landed on a primitive stone statue which had been thoroughly eroded—no feature remained. I could swear it had not been there before. I lifted the statue and directed my aim to the window and threw it. To my surprise, the window had shattered into a thousand pieces, the crystals sparkling in the moonlight. Instantly I took note of a briny mist—an amalgamation of seaweed rot and saltwater. The fog was sucked into the library and soon enough, I could barely make out the windows. I coughed as the salt tickled my throat and walked to the shattered window and took a look outside. I could hear the sea. Waves crashed against the unknown, as the moon shone dimly through the fog. An immense shadow appeared, concealed by the mist. It flew upwards from within the sea and took off in circles around the moon. Uncomprehending, I stood there, gazing at the imposing creature taking a bite of the moon each time it had finished a cycle around the satellite—until the silver light was no more and only the night remained.

I remember how I had laughed at the absurdness of it all. Later, the creature drifted by, close to the windows—the candlelight within the library revealed a beast, more so than a creature. Its slimy skin seemed like a moving portrait on the wall. When part of its eye looked through the windows, I felt relief—a relief felt when pain is taken away—until it had drifted off and the fog had dispersed. Unbeknownst to myself, I had fallen on my knees, like a sinner before a priest. In the distance, I could see its features more clearly: its head was that of a fish, flat and slimy, with two large bulging eyes, its body resembling that of an ant, covered with countless eyes, each a window to a realm beyond our understanding. It was then that I understood that there was no escape from this place. I went back to the desk and huddled in the corner next to it, surrounded by the suffocating darkness and remaining ashes, the bookcases and candelabras closed in. Their haunting presence was an inescapable reminder of my eternal imprisonment. The horror continued unabated, a ceaseless torment that eroded my sanity. Days blended into nights, and time lost all meaning as I became a mere spectre within the library's accursed halls. My existence devolved into a grim and torturous ritual, an unrelenting cycle dictated by the forces of this wretched place.

Each passing moment, my yearning to have traded places with the burnt creature grows stronger—perhaps there is still an oil lamp to be found.