Legend of Western Street Library

Her breathing hitches rapidly as her eyes stare trained on the building in front of her. Madison has been searching for the last couple of years in a desperate search for the building in front of her. The outside of the building is covered in moss, dirt, and grime. The windows are tall, almost resembling a door, and are pitch black, so she can’t see inside them no matter how much she tries. The building itself is made from bricks that have started to decay over time, leaving a rundown appearance. Madison feels her mouth forming a slight grin as she wipes away the dust from the old wooden sign with her sleeves, Western Street Library. 

She approaches the wooden door and slowly uses her hands to push it open.

Creek. 

The door scraping creates sharp lines engraved against the library floor. Wincing to herself, she walks inside astonished at the view in front of her. From floor to ceiling were selves after selves that wrapped around the walls in Madison's viewpoint. Each shelf is filled to the brim with books. This building was once a place of wonder and curiosity. People used to flood the building searching for their new or favorite books. People were inspired by the stories writers told. But now that feeling in this library has vanished.

As she walks around the library she can’t help but shake the feeling that something is wrong. Her stomach twists in nerves as the air around her seems to screech in warning. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight, making her slowly turn her head, scanning the room with her eyes. She can’t shake the feeling that someone is here, watching. Shaking her head in frustration, when there is no one in her line of sight. She continues to walk around, trying to find the real reason the library closed all those years ago. 

Western Street Library once was the most popular library in New Hampshire until they closed the door suddenly eighty years ago. One day they had the entire building filled with eager people, then the next day they slammed their doors shut to never open them again. Rumors had spread quickly throughout the state about the real reason for the sudden closure. No one would confirm anyone's ideas, but there was one theory that seemed to gain popularity and soon that is all the library is known for. The Library Killers. Madison knows it sounds crazy, but it is the story told to her all her life. The killers that made the Western Street Library close its doors.

In the 1940s, there was a duo who would go into libraries and demand a certain book. If the library had the book, they checked it out and left, it was only when they didn’t have the book that things went chaotic. If the book was not given to them, they would ask the librarian one question, ‘How many books do you have here?’ If they got the answer wrong they would attack everyone inside and steal anything they could get their hands on. The killers claimed it was a way to see how knowledgeable and reliable the libraries were. This happened multiple times, at all different libraries, and each one got to remain open after a few repairs. All except the Western Street Library.

Something different happened that day, only one of the killers walked out alive but no one else was hurt. Nothing was stolen. No one who was there at the time even remembered what happened that fateful day. It was all a blur to them. They just closed their doors the same day and never reopened them. 

What made Western Street different from all the others?

Madison runs her fingertips against the books as she walks down the hallway, trying to get a clue as to what happened that day. 

There is a torn piece of paper on the ground that looks like it was ripped out of a book, judging from the ragged edges and the hardcover book lying on the floor a few feet away. She picks the paper up and traces the message, Help Me. The words themselves are written in dried blood that looks like the person was shaking when writing it. 

She glances around the floor seeing the blood stains that go from the note to a dead end at a wall, by a bookshelf. Madison examines the shelf, scanning her eyes for a clue as to where the person could have gone. As her hands run along the bookshelf she notices a blood spot that drips down the side of it, in the shape of a handprint. She feels the wall for a reason why the person would even consider running to a shelf rather than an exit. A small patch of light shines through the shelf and Madison holds onto the shelf as she tries to pry it away from the wall with her bare hands. 

Creek. 

Finally, the shelf moves just enough that Madison can look in. She can see a small metal door. Eagerly wanting to know the secrets behind the library she pushes the shelf further until there is enough room for her to climb in. She rubs her hands on her pants, looks around the room behind her, and takes a deep breath in and out before opening the door and walking inside. 

‘There are people here, well bodies,’ Madison thought. She wonders where they came from, seeing as the original Library Killers tale only spoke of one casualty. But there were several bodies here, all in different stages of decaying, ranging from recently to probably eighty years ago. ‘Why are there so many people here from all different times if this place closed eighty years ago?’ 

It was when she got a look at the flashlights, notebooks, and recorders scattered around the floor that Madison realized. Her eyes widened in disbelief at the thought of it. These people were like her. They came here for answers about that day, just like she did. ‘Then why are they trapped in here?’ 

Before she can even begin to wrap her head around this she hears footsteps approaching. She glances up at the door to see a man who looked familiar to one of the people on the ground, just younger, standing in the doorway. He has a sinister grin on his face, but his eyes only hold emptiness. He stares at her and before she can even blink, he backs up and slams the door closed.

 Madison runs over to the door, practically tripping over her own feet. She bangs her fist against the door shouting at the man to open the door. She can hear what sounds like a lock being placed on the door, before the sound of the bookshelf being put back into place echoing through the door. Her cries go unanswered as she slowly turns around and slides down with her back against the door until she lands on the floor. She sobs into her hands as she desperately calls for help that goes unanswered. 

Madison becomes one of the Western Street library cold cases. Her story would inspire thousands to write about the legend of the Western Street Library and the missing people surrounding it.