The Awakened

“Ugh,” Hanna uttered under her breath. Her laptop charger had escaped the wall outlet yet again, as it had four times before that same day. Or was it night? She could not tell. As far as she was concerned, the library was her home now, its grayish-tan walls and dusty bookshelves emitting a strangely hospitable aura. Stretching like a contortionist, she maneuvered the plug back into the inconveniently-placed wall outlet. The charging light turned orange, and Hanna leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. 

She looked at her watch;

4:00 AM,

The writing in geometric font blazed at her bloodshot eyes. She sat there and simply stared at the numbers until they read, “4:03,” then swiftly got up and began to throw things into her backpack.

“HOW,” she questioned aloud, clearly the only living person left in the library at this time. How did she do this? Did she fall asleep? Where did the time go?

Hanna reflected on other events similar to this. She was known to fall asleep just about anywhere, and to get so caught up in her work she would forget the time. No matter. She just needed to get home and finish her essay, her grading for grad school, and bake a cake for her friend’s birthday party. She would be able to finish all that and get to class at 8 AM. Perfect! she thought. 

Hanna meandered through the rows of shelves, bumping into the occasional section of books. She was sure she knew how to get to the exit… Or was she? This was actually a different section of the library than she normally visited, and her three and a half hours of sleep from the night prior were finally catching up to her. But that was college! You were supposed to never sleep, survive on the pure sodium of ramen, and drink coffee instead of water. Right?

“Hanna…” a faraway, raspy voice called. Hanna stopped in her tracks, a shiver running up and down her spine.

Wow, she thought, I really need to get some sleep! She smiled and shook her head as she began to walk once again, trying to reschedule her night to include a one hour nap.. But as she continued her quest, sections of books that she swore were never there previously began to appear in her path. She tried to read what genres were on the signs, but she could not read them anymore. Each sign seemed to be written in Hieroglyphs, or Cuneiform, or some other ancient language unknown to her. 

“Haaannaaa,” a different voice, lower and weaker, beckoned to her. What she had formerly believed to be an auditory hallucination was now becoming more real by the second. Glancing behind her, she continued to walk, quickening her pace until she was striding, then running, then sprinting. Her aching bones and tingling muscles worked as hard as they could to carry her along as she ran, dodging falling books that fell from disturbed shelves. After what felt like a lifetime of running, Hanna screeched to a halt. In front of her was a door. But it was not like any other door in the library that she had seen. It was made of a darker, older wood than the others, and did not have a rectangular window with chicken wire on it.

“What the-” she said under her breath.

“Hanna,” a third, higher-pitched voice whispered behind her, and she decided it was not time to admire the door any longer. Faster than lightning could strike, she had grasped the golden handle, swung open the door, and thrown herself through it, slamming it behind her. She breathed in relief for only a second, and then absolute horror coursed through her body. Before her was a dark, dripping room full of moldy old bookshelves that towered above her. In front of her stood three figures, each shrouded in darkness. Her vision spun as she gazed upon them, thinking about how this would be her last night alive.

“Who are you!” she managed to sputter out. The figures looked at each other, looked back at Hanna, then moved into the only dim light in the room, the source of which Hanna could not discern. When she saw them, she felt as if a cold hand had clasped her windpipe shut.

The three souls stood in a row, sad eyes bulging out of pale, translucent-skinned heads. The grayish-pink of their brains shone through their skulls and fading skin, and their gaping mouths quivered, dry and decomposing. Hanna’s eyes traveled down to their hands, which each figure had folded politely in front of them. Their hands all bore the same translucent skin as the rest of their bodies, and Hanna could see thin, bony fingers with long, yellow, cracked nails. Some of the skin on their fingers had come off, and Hanna could see bloody bones. She suppressed the immediate urge to vomit, and instead wordlessly stared at the three figures, inspecting them individually.

The person on the left wore a long, blue skirt and a white button-up polo shirt with a yellow sweater wrapped around her neck. Much of her hair had fallen out, but what was left was stringy, the color of urine, and pulled up into a high ponytail. Her faded blue eyes bore into Hanna’s very being, and protruded slightly from their sagging sockets.

Hanna’s attention moved to the middle figure, who was holding a beat-up book with a maroon cover that looked as if it were from biblical times. She gasped and jumped back slightly as she inspected their face more closely. Their skin was the color of rice paper, and was sunken in so much that it seemed it was glued closely to their skull. Some bits of their skin had sunken in and opened up, like great craters on the surface of the moon.

Shaking like a bad washing machine, Hanna adjusted her eyes and fixated on the third figure. He reached for something in his pocket, slowly and with great effort. He pulled out a most likely decades-old cardboard box, slid it open, and picked out a cigarette. With another trembling hand, the figure searched his pocket for a lighter, and pulled one out. The other two figures slowly rotated their rotting heads towards him, and stared disdainfully. He brought the lighter up to the cigarette, flicked it a few times, and seemed very confused when it refused to spark. The other two figures seemingly exchanged a look, then went back to peering woefully at Hanna.

“Hello, dear,” the person in the middle finally said, speaking in one of the voices she had heard before. Their voice sounded even more dry than before, and Hanna shuddered.

“Hi,” Hanna replied, eyes jolting every which way. She searched for an exit, any door she could possibly see. But there was no escape in sight.

“Are you studying, too?” said the man on the right in his wispy tone. He flicked the lighter absentmindedly with his left hand.

“Yes, I was studying Sociology and writing my essay on Aristotle,” Hanna responded, starting to feel eerily calm.

“Aristotle! He is quite interesting,” the girl on the left said, smiling from cheek to cheek with black gums and corroded teeth.

“I prefer Gorgias, myself,” the man said, glancing over at the ponytailed woman. She glared at him with sunken eyes.

“Where AM I?” Hanna managed to ask.

“Why sweetie, you’re Awakened,” the middle figure replied, smirking.

“What does that mean?” asked Hanna, “And why me?”

“Because,” the woman on the left chimed, “You’re dedicated.”

“Dedicated?” Hanna responded.

“Yes,” the man on the right added, “And that’s why you should stay here. We have all the knowledge we need, right here. We never sleep, we never eat, we never bathe. We have all we could ever ask for. Nothing else is needed but to KNOW. To be AWAKE.”

Hanna was completely still now. What information lay in these tomes? What could she acquire from learning all these things? Would she discover something new in the name of Sociology? Would this finally get her the A+ she had been striving for since day 1? Since she knew how to think, speak, and write?

“All you have to do is open a book,” said the middle figure, grinning with their disturbingly jagged teeth. Their black gums glinted at her.

“How did you all get here?” Hanna asked. She felt off. Something was suppressing her normal inhibitions, and she couldn’t figure out what it was. Her brain felt strained, like she was thinking about imaginary numbers in Calculus.

“Just open a book, honey. It will all be okay,” the man on the right added. The three began to walk slowly towards her. As the three loathsome learners closed in, her brain seemed to click back into place.

“I think I’ll be going now,” Hanna stammered, backing up. The figures pressed in even more, their eyes glowing menacingly in the now inky darkness. Hanna did not care what was behind her. She kept backpedaling, and backpedaling, until she fell back, breath catching in her throat as she tried to scream. As she fell, she could see the faces of the three half-dead library enthusiasts gazing down at her. They all wore frowns on their moist, indented faces, and their brow bones drew together as they glared down at Hanna. She fell away, and only hit solid ground after a few feet.

She blinked, and was back in the library.

Sitting up, she looked at her surroundings rapidly. She found herself in the place where the door had been. It was no longer there. This did not surprise Hanna, but her body and mind were in shock from the entire experience. She pushed off of the rough, carpeted floor and took off running in the opposite direction. Instead of strange, unfamiliar bookshelves and sections seemingly materializing in front of her, this time she knew exactly where she was. Following her knowledge of the library’s interior, she took the exact directions she knew would get her out. She sent out a prayer to whatever forces would answer that she would make it to the front of the library and out the door.

She went down a flight of stairs, and finally saw the large, glass doors of the library. However, she would not let herself be relieved yet. She had no clue how she was going to get out if the doors were locked.

On her first try, the giant library door opened up, releasing her into the cold nighttime air. Hanna exhaled a huge sigh, and her breath vaporized. Never before had she walked home that quickly.

The next day, Hanna emailed all of her teachers and supervisors that she would not be coming to classes. She texted her friends quick messages canceling her plans for the day. That day, she decided, would be completely for rest. From now on, her health and happiness was her top priority. Not school, not other people. Herself. And never, EVER, again would she find herself in the library at 4 in the morning, speaking to half dead students who had never made their way out of the trap of academia.