Forsaken Library

"Ugh..." I coughed as I sat up into the dust cloud created by my impact on the dust covered splintered wood beneath me.

I looked up, seeing a giant hole far above me, shining a dim light like a sad spotlight on me.

"How did I even survive that fall?" I asked myself, feeling around my body for any pain from bruises or bumps, "I guess my bag cushioned the fall. Hah, I told Michael overpacking would be a good idea."

I took off my bag and failed my attempt in standing. A shocking pain rang through my right ankle and up my whole body. I tripped forward with a pained gasp. Judging from how I fell, I probably hurt my ankle the moment I fell through the floor. I must have stepped weirdly.

I tried to stand again, minding my foot and making sure to keep pressure off of it.

"Henry?!" Michael's voice called out.

"Hey, I'm down here!" I yelled back, my voice echoing through out the darkness, making me feel uneasy.

Michael's footsteps were audible as he approached the hole.

"Be careful! The wood is rotted, it isn't safe to walk on!"

Michael's head peeked over the entrance of the hole, "Jeez man, are you okay? How did you even survive that fall?"

"I definitely hurt my ankle, but other than that I'm fine. I think my bag that broke my fall. Heh, I told you overpacking was a good idea!"

"You sure it wasn't the extra weight from the bag that made you fall through? The floor isn't even creaking up here."

My self righteous smile dropped, "get me outta here man."

"Okay, okay. Our rope is definitely not long enough to reach you. I'm gonna have to run back to the camp and grab some stuff. Will you be okay for like...an hour or two?"

"What?! I thought the group moved camp into the mansion."

"They were just starting to pack up when we left. They're probably on their way now, but I can't promise that they're close."

"Alright. Just be quick. It's creepy down here."

"I'll try. Just stay put," Michael said, waving his hand to me before his footsteps started to run across the ceiling.

"Yeah, right," I mumbled to myself, "I'm not sitting still for even ten minutes."

I carefully kneeled down and started rummaging through my bag, throwing random supplies to the side until I came across my industrial flashlight and first aid kit. I started wrapping my ankle, wincing every time I tightened the bandages. Then I turned on the flashlight, first making sure the wrapping was secure.

It was...decent at best. But the light shining on a nearby carpet, darkened by dust and mold, became my center of attention. I moved the flashlight up slowly, revealing a grand dark red rug with elegant yellow lines on it's edges. Near the middle was two brown leather chairs, also coated in dust. They both had a side table next to them. One with an old lamp, the other with a teacup on a saucer. Behind the chairs was a bookcase. I limped forward and scrunched my face as the carpet squished under my foot. I pulled the cord on the lamp, expecting it to do nothing. But despite the lack of electricity in the mansion, it turned on. The light was warm and lit the section of the room I was in. Before me was the bookcase, bigger than I thought. The walls surrounding me weren't exactly walls, but also book cases. Each shelf was filled to the brim with books. I looked at the teacup, noticing the vintage style of it, stained with a pile of mold inside. It looked like the drink was never finished.

I pointed the flashlight behind me, revealing even more towering bookcases, accompanied by leather couches and chairs with coffee tables and side tables. Fake flowers filled the various vases decorating the area, being the only thing that had any sort of bright color in this hidden library. I limped forward and shone the light down the left of the room, seeing that, just like the bookcases, the room was bigger than I originally thought. Countless bookcases lined the walls, with even more seating and darkened lamps. At the end of the room was a fireplace with what seemed like a dining area in front of it at a distance. I turned to the right and saw a door nearby. I stared at it for a moment, then turned around and looked at the books.

"I'm sure it's fine if I start looking through this place without the rest of the group."

Making my way over to the bookcase behind me, I randomly chose a book from a shelf above me.

It didn't seem to have a title.

"I guess the words faded with time. How old is this place?" I opened the book to a random page, "...what the?"

The page was blank.

I flipped through the yellowed pages, not discovering a single trace of any words ever written in it.

"Maybe it's just for show."

I put the book on the side table next to the lamp and took out another one from a different shelf.

Also blank. I put it on top of the other book.

The next few books were exactly the same.

"There HAS to be something interesting here."

I moved to a different bookcase and was met with the exact same thing. Blank books piled up next to me. It wasn't until about ten books later that I found one with words. I flipped through it excitedly, only to realize that it was a book of poems.

That which is contained

The darkness

Of the past, present, and future

As confined as could be

"This makes no sense," I said, flipping to another random page.

Humanities foolish decent

Failure to atone

Ancestors sins manifest

Divine punishment

There will be no escape

Despite not understanding a word, the poems dug a pit into my stomach. I threw the book into the pile and continued to pull out blank books until I realized a patterned. I looked down at the book of poems, seeing that it was the only one in the pile with words on the spine. Despite it being faded to the point of being unreadable, I could tell it used to say something. I picked the light back up and shone it on the bookcase, looking closely at each one. I pulled out every book that had some sort of marks on the spine and sat down with the pile, going through one after the other.

Fairy tales, more poems, religious books, scripts...the variety was messy. But one book caught my attention. The spine didn't have faded writing, it had carvings. They were random. Just squiggles and lines. On the cover there seemed to be an attempt at carving letters, but it was too messy to make out.

I opened the book to the first page, written in disturbed brown ink. The words were large and crooked and looked like they were written by a shivering kindergartener. Only a few sentences filled the page.

God, forgive us. Spare us. Our attempts were in vain. You watched us, didn't you? You witnessed our struggles for your cause, right?

We did as you asked. What have we missed? Did we forget a step?

I beg of you, Lord. Spare the children, at least. They can't bare a weight they are yet unable to carry.

The next few pages had similar writing, but they soon turned into the ramblings of a mad man.

You have forsaken us. Your holy lies led us astray. Prayer fed your hunger, yet you still call for blood.

I curse you. The devil would be more forgiving than you. I curse you. I curse you.

Dedication meant NOTHInG. YOU DELigHT IN OUr deMISe.

i wOnt LEt YOU TakE ME

YOU SHALL STARVE. STARVE. STARVE. STARVE. STARVE.

WHEN YOU COME FOR ME, YOU'LL ONLY FIND YOUR BURNING PUNISHMENT.

I slammed the book closed, struggling to breathe as the pit in my stomach dug deeper and deeper. It felt like the darkness was closing in on me. My trembling hands picked up the flashlight and shone it into the rest of the library. To my relief, nothing was there. Nothing was out of place.

"A horror story, maybe..?" I reassured myself.

I decided to go back to my bag, feeling more comfort in the space I last saw my partner.

But it was gone. Despite being just there, slightly lit by the hole in the ceiling, it was gone. Everything was gone.

Even the hole in the ceiling.

I rubbed my eyes and limped forward, thinking it was the dark playing tricks on me. I approached the spot I fell, knowing where it was due to the disturbed dust on the floor. I moved the flashlight away, darkening where I fell, and then moved it back.

My bag was still not there. I don't know why I thought it would reappear, it was clear that it was gone.

I lowered my hand, causing the floor to be lit up more clearly. Something caught my eye. I had left footsteps in the dust on the floor. Not far from them, leading from where my bag was, was a large line in the dust, as if it came from something being dragged. It led to the room behind me, where I just was. I turned around quickly, only being able to make out a large hand reaching towards my face. It grabbed and painfully gripped my face. I dropped my flashlight and grabbed the arm the hand was attached to, digging my nails into it to get it to let go. My stomach turned at how easy it was to break the skin and sink my fingers into the arm. I opened my uncovered eye and through the fingers I saw a tall man, so dusty that it looked like he was made on dust. But the squishy and wet texture I felt from his arm confirmed he wasn't. He lifted me up without an effort and I kicked my legs, but cried out in pain when my right foot made a light impact with his thigh.

I continued to kick with my left leg and started trying to tear away at his arm. Chunks of his arm came out disgustingly easy. I felt my fingers push down on a slightly hard part of the mans arm, but it quickly crumbled, causing the arm to fall of. I fell to the floor feet first, further injuring my ankle. The pain barely registered as I tore the hand away from my face, not realizing that the nails had punctured my skin. I felt it tear my face, causing blood to leak down my cheeks. The man kept his eyes locked onto me as I scrambled to my feet and started quickly limping through the library. I looked behind me, realizing I was barely making any progress. The man walked calmly, getting closer and closer to me. I started to run, ignoring my now probably broken ankle. The pain intensified with every step. It felt like the bones in my ankle were breaking more and more each time I took a step.

Running quickly doomed me. My ankle gave out beneath me and I fell. The man was still walking. I started to pull myself along the floor towards the now lit fireplace, cursing myself for not running towards the door at the other end of the room. I desperately prayed that getting under the dining table would somehow save me. But the man reached me. He grabbed me by the leg and started dragging me across the floor towards the fireplace. I looked around the room for any sort of escape, but I was only met with more books. Countless books.

A heat grew closer to me. I lifted my head and saw that the fire place was growing closer and closer. Getting a better look at it, I realized the raging fire was coming from a deep pit within the fireplace.

I looked into the eyes of the man who was now looking at me. My eyes didn't leave his, even as I was thrown into a manmade hell.