The Librarian

Anna Hardy was the perfect librarian. At 35, she was single, hardworking, dedicated to her job and a ferocious reader. She had all the trademarks of a classic librarian; she was quiet, timid, plain, and a strict rule follower. That was why when the time hit 7:00 on the dot, she shooed the rowdy boys out of the comic book section of the Brantville County Library and told them to come back tomorrow if they wished to take out a book. 

After escorting the boys out the main doors, Anna took a sweeping look around her, admiring the world of words that lay before her. This was her favourite time of the day. The stalls sat quiet and inviting. She reached out and ran her finger along the spines as she walked down the aisle back to the check out desk. She loved her precious collection more than any human in this world. She would spend the next hour tidying her desk, shelving a few more returns, and then choosing a couple of new books to take home with her for her nightly reading. At the moment, she was infatuated with Arthur Conan Doyle. She would start The Valley of Fear tonight after finishing The Hound of the Baskervilles the previous evening. Sherlock Holmes was her nightly companion and oh what a companion he was! 

Anna made her way back to her desk and began to check that everything was in order. She had to shut down her computer, put away the book tape, and put a note on a distressed copy of The Great Gatsby as its cover had torn in two. Other peoples’ carelessness infuriated her. What she would give to find the culprit responsible and tear them in two!

After everything was to her liking at the desk, she began to shelve the remaining returns. It wouldn’t take her too long. She had the library memorized like the back of her hand. Every aisle and every dear member of her collection was imprinted on her heart. She was meticulous in her shelving, ensuring each book was put away in the correct spot and each spine was lined up evenly with the others. After a half hour of precise work, Anna checked the time: 7:45. She just had to grab her nights’ reading before turning off the lights and locking up. 

As Anna quickly went to each light switch, dimming the area significantly, she noticed a red glare flash in the corner of her eye. Anna looked in the direction of the glare and noticed something quite peculiar. There was a book rebelliously set out from the others by an inch with a strange red glow reflecting off of it. Anna eyed the book with confusion. Where was the red glow coming from and how did she miss the uneven placement of the book? She determinedly walked over to deal with the infraction. Upon closer examination, the book was black and no red colour remained as she stood directly in front of the book. However, Anna did not recognize the book. How odd! Anna picked up the book. Its cover was plain. It had a simple black cover. No title. No author name. No writing whatsoever. Anna opened the book to the first page. Even more odd! There was no copyright. No publication date. No library stamp. Still no writing whatsoever. Continuing on, Anna flipped to the next page and one line of dark, crimson script in a flowing font stared back at her, sadistically.

Hello, Anna. Are you afraid of the dark? 

Anna gasped as a creeping chill ran down her spine. She closed the book tight and looked around the deserted, dimmed room. Who had done this? Had those boys left this here? Were they playing a practical joke on her? But how would they know her first name? She only went by Miss Hardy. Whoever had done this, it was not funny! Why would someone play a cruel joke on her like this? All she did was care for this sweet collection and mind her own business. Anna closed her eyes. Her mind was racing. Maybe she had not gotten enough sleep. This could simply be a figment of her imagination, an overtired hallucination. She reopened the book flipping to the next page…

Don’t be scared, Anna. The darkness is your friend. 

“Agh! What the hell?”Anna swore out to the empty space. “Who did this? Is someone here? Tell me, tell me now?” she screeched. A fiery rage consumed her. How dare someone trick her, torture her like this in her place, her safe space. Her library. 

She flipped roughly to the next page, feeling close to hysterics. This time, two lines:

Remember the man in the red hat? He wasn’t your friend, was he?Don’t you remember, Anna? How could you forget?

The colour drained from Anna’s face. All anger replaced with an ice cold, dead, fear. “No,” she cried out. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening,” she moaned. Buried memories erupted to the surface. They were cloudy, hazy like fog, but they gained momentum quickly. Guilt and shame attempted to overwhelm her. Anna sank to her knees clutching the book to her chest as she remembered...

...About 6 months ago, the man with the red hat had entered her life. 6 foot. Scrawny but lean. He strolled through the stacks wearing a red ball cap. He wore a simple, grey hoodie and black jeans. There was nothing impressive or in any way significant about his appearance. His drab, brown hair was short, trimmed neatly. His face plain, even friendly looking. He meandered through the aisles, taking his time and chose a selection of Stephen King: Christine, Insomnia, and Four Past Midnight.

 As he sauntered over to the check out desk, he grinned at Anna. 

“Well hello there, sweetheart,” he greeted, brazenly.

Anna, not one for small-talk or banter, replied curtly, “Good afternoon,” as she grabbed and scanned the chosen paperbacks. She kept her eyes downcast, preferring to discourage further socialization. As she stacked the books with the due date slips inside, the man reached out his hand, briefly touching hers before grabbing the novels. Anna pulled back her hand in discomfort. She did not know why, but there was something about this man she did not like. She could feel his eyes on her and her discomfort continued to grow. “These are due back September 3rd,” she informed, judiciously.  

Anna finally looked up at the stranger. He had not moved. He was still standing there, his eyes bearing down upon her. 

“Not one for chit chat, are you then?” he challenged.

“No,” Anna replied, feeling her cheeks start to burn red with embarrassment.

“I don’t suppose you wouldn’t mind showing a fella around the library sometime? I might like a guide, you see.”

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate,” Anna responded, turning her eyes to her computer. Maybe if she looked busy he would take the hint and leave her alone.

“Ah, not appropriate, you say. Honey, I can think of a few inappropriate things we could do,” he countered, his voice sickly sweet. 

Anna felt her heart racing. She did not like this man. She did not want his attention. She wanted to be left alone. She wanted to cut his balls off and watch him writhe in pain. She continued to look away, ignoring him as she reminded herself to just breathe. 

“See you around, darling.” 

He finally walked away. Anna watched him leave and as he walked away the fire inside her began to subside. She could relax. She did not want to see that man ever again.

Yet he continued to come back. Time after time; over the next few weeks, he came into the library. He chose a few books. He walked up to the check out desk and he spouted his unwanted advances. He told her he liked her hair, her skirt, her chest. He ran his eyes up and down her, making her cringe in disgust. He told her he had a dream about her. Anna tried with all her might to block out his voice as he described his dream in vivid detail: Meeting her in the library. She took her hair out of its bun so it flowed over her shoulders, just the way he liked it. She laughed at his joke. She ran her hand along his shoulder, down his arm, to his waist. She felt his erection. She slipped her hand over his belt and squeezed just a little. She fell to her knees. She unzipped him and she took him in her mouth and she loved it…

After he relayed his fantasy to her, she got up from the desk, ran to the washroom and vomited. 

A few days later, Anna was busy shelving books. Immersed in her work, she felt purposeful, driven, and dedicated to the task at hand. As she was slipping the Jodi Picoult novel, Salem Falls, into the appropriate spot, she felt a hand caress her back. Anna froze, paralyzed with fear. She tilted her head to see who was behind her and it was him. Same red hat. Same sick grin. Anna didn’t know what to do. No one else was around. He had chosen the perfect moment. He continued, slipping both hands down around her waist and pushed himself up behind her. She could feel him breathing down her neck. “Hey there, sweetheart,” he whispered. 

Just then, Anna heard the sound of the library door opening followed by footsteps. He pulled himself away from her and walked away. Anna’s entire body was in shock but she turned in the opposite direction and practically ran to the safety of the check out desk. 

Two more weeks passed by. Anna was not safe in her own library. She couldn’t sleep, barely ate. The feel of his hands on her body echoed in her mind constantly. She felt traumatized. She couldn’t escape him. He came into the library daily but luckily had not yet found another moment alone with her. She kept herself chained to the check out desk, only leaving to shelve once the library was closed. Then one night, as the time struck 6:58, in walked the man in the red hat. He stood at the door. Waiting for her. Anna didn’t know what to do. She eyed him from across the room. This was it. He was going to take her and have his way with her unless she could stop him. 

“Hello there,” Anna said, trying with all her might to sound perky, even flirty.

“Hello baby,” he drawled. 

“I’ve been thinking about you,” Anna continued. “I even dreamed about you,” she offered as she slowly began walking towards him. 

“Is that right? I knew you’d come around. I knew there was something inside of you yearning to get out!” he chuckled and smirked. 

“I think I just needed time. I’m not used to a real man wanting me. Do you want to hear my dream?” she asked.

“I do.”

“I dreamed about us leaving the library together. Holding hands. I take you to my car. I let down my hair. It flows loose and wild over my shoulders.” She was within a few feet of him now. “You undress me. You pin me down. Have your way with me. And I love it…” She grabbed his hand, holding it in hers. “Do you want to do that?” she purred, running her other hand down his chest. He looked at her hungrily. His grin had never been so large.

 “Come on, baby,” he murmured, breathlessly. 

Anna led him out to her car. They were just about there when she exclaimed, “Oh no, I forgot my purse. All of the excitement, I guess. Can you go grab it for me? It’s on the desk?” She looked up at him sweetly. 

“I’m on it!” he declared as he ran back to retrieve her purse.

“Ever the gentleman...” Anna mumbled under her breath. 

She had to act fast. She grabbed her keys out of her pocket, started up the car, put it in reverse and waited. He ran out of the library. She read the eagerness and lust written all over his face. She waited for the right moment; he was a few feet away from the car when she sprang into action and reversed. Her car hit him with an alarming thud. The shock of the feeling almost made her stop. But, she continued on. She shifted into forward and ran over him again. She shifted into reverse again. She continued. She continued. Her body was on fire with vengeance. She could not allow him to live. She had lost count of the amount of times her car had gone over the bloody excuse for a man below it. She eyed the mess on the pavement in her rear view mirror. Grotesque. A mass of blood. And that red hat. When she was sure the job had been completed and everything was in order, she pulled away and drove home...

Anna clung to the book, sobbing. She couldn’t allow her moment of sin to envelop her entire life. She turned to the next page…

I can help you, Anna. Set you free. Just count to 3 and follow me...

Red glowing footsteps appeared in the aisle before her. Anna stood up in a trance. Could she ever be free of what she had done? Where did the footsteps lead? She placed her foot in the first crimson step and noticed that it fit her foot perfectly. Were these her footprints? She continued on. The footsteps led outside. They glowed like fire in the impending twilight. Her feet fit perfectly in each one. She was astounded at that fact. This was her path. This was her road to freedom. This was her saving grace. She looked down at the mysterious black book. This book was her saviour. She hugged it tighter still. The footsteps continued to the road. They ended in the middle of the road. How odd? Anna stood perfectly still, feet matching the final two footsteps. She looked down and felt a sense of peace. She was being saved. This was her redemption. How wonderful!

At precisely 12:00 am on the evening of March 31st, 2021, Anna Hardy was struck and killed by a drunk driver on the road outside of the Branville County Library. The poor woman died on site, holding one of her dear books from her precious collection that she had devoted her entire life to. No one knew why she was out in the middle of the road that night. No one questioned what she was doing or why she had left the library unlocked: so unlike her. No one knew why she was holding a single book, a copy of The Valley of Fear. No one knew why she had written in red pen all over the pages of said copy. No children mourned her. No friends missed her. No one even noticed that a new librarian took her position on April 2nd.