Creepypasta: “I’m Trapped in The Bookrooms and Things Have Gone from Strange to Horrifying!!”
A trip to the public library spirals out of control as I’m left trapped in The Bookrooms and have to fend for myself. A long creepypasta written by KessalTheViking.
Join the Mrs. Nightmare community
Do you love spine-tingling horror stories? Would you like to be kept up to date with the latest creepypastas and horror stories to help you sleep? Look no further than the Mrs. Nightmare Horror channel! Subscribe now and turn on notifications for the ultimate horror experience. šŖ
I'm continually striving to improve my narrations and audio, so you can be sure you're listening to top quality horror - please give me your feedback.
Links
šŗ Youtube Channel
Story Credits
Help! I’m trapped in the public library and things have gone from strange to horrifying! Written by: u/KessalTheViking
Video Transcript
I love reading. I love books, words and literature in most forms. If it can occupy the deafening drone inside my mind, then I’m ready to glue my eyes to the pages. That’s why I spend so much time at the public library.
The library isn’t that big, it’s just about what you’d expect to see in a town like Ridgewood. When you walk in - there is a children’s section to the right, the adult section straight ahead and various study rooms to the left. The librarians have a break room and I’m certain there’s a sort of “back room,” where literature deemed inappropriate or perhaps even controversial is kept.
After an exhausting day of yard work, I decided to spend the rest of my evening perusing the well stocked shelves of the library. Upon entering, there were a few other people presumably partaking in the interest of knowledge through words on paper. A group of students seemed to be studying at one of the circular tables, there was a young woman sitting by herself near a window, a couple were meandering between the aisles being a bit too loud and there were a plethora of lone individuals like myself.
The library didn’t stay open incredibly late; it usually closed around 9 PM and it was roughly 7 PM when I arrived. I’m what you might call a “regular,” so the librarian greeted me by name, “Good evening Damian!” She was a sweet elderly woman with glasses, short light-grey hair and a soothing voice.
I smiled in her direction, “Hello Mrs. James! I hope you’ve had yourself a pleasant day!”
“It’s been just fine Damian, thank you. What brings you in tonight, looking for anything in particular?” She asked warmly.
“No ma’am, I thought I’d take a look around and see what ‘pops’ out at me!”
“Oh! Well, I do hope you find something truly captivating!” Mrs. James has a certain inflection on her dialect that always reminded me of a southern belle. Maybe she was one when she was younger?
“You’ll be the first to know Mrs. James! Now, if you don’t mindā¦” I trailed off as I smiled again and walked away from the front reception.
Mrs. James’s debutante demeanor flowed through the air behind me, “Take care and try not to get lost!”
I wondered how I could ever get lost in a place like this. She was probably just teasing me because as I mentioned before - the library is relatively small. I avoided the children’s section and went straight to the back. It just so happened that the couple was there as well and now they had resorted to using the obscurity of the shelves as a PDA concealer. However, they did stop when they noticed I was nearby.
At first glance, nothing was catching my eye. I ran my fingers along the bindings and scoured the titles diligently. There were books on physics, hydroponics, botany, medieval war strategy, architecture and even spatial discovery. Obviously, I was in the nonfiction section but I’ll read fiction too; it just depends on what piques my interest.
And there it was, the book I’d read that night, the one book that outshined all others - a biography on Leonardo da Vinci. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “What the hell? Really? THAT’S the book you chose?” While I might be inclined to agree with you, something I failed to mention was that I’m a history buff and Leonardo was the subject of most if not all of my character studies when I was in school.
But, I wasn’t planning on checking the book out. In fact, I simply wanted to do a bit of quiet reading to help calm the incessant mental storm in my mind.
As I emerged from the back of the library, I noticed that most of the patrons had gone. The young woman was still sitting by the window and a few of the lone individuals were wandering but other than that; it was me, them and Mrs. James. The elderly librarian smiled at me when I flashed the book cover at her and I found a table to sit at.
I opened the book and delved deep within the pages. I hadn’t read this particular book, so I was curious on what discrepancies it may have versus the knowledge I already had of Leo’s life. For some reason; it had all sorts of new information! There were things that a part of me wondered if historians even knew! I found myself completely enthralled with each individual letter as if it were a story all on its own.
You know what they say? Time flies when you’re having fun. I soon realized I had forgotten to pay attention to what time it was and as I forcibly averted my eyes from the book, I noticed it was past closing. Why hadn’t Mrs. James said anything? Everyone else had gone and it seemed to be just me, myself and the horrendous droning of ambient library noise which is essentially the absence of ALL noise but sometimes silence is deafening.
Before panicking, I checked around. I thought that perhaps Mrs. James had a mental lapse and if I left without anyone noticing, then there wouldn’t be any problems. My only issue though, was that the entrance was gone.
I don’t mean like, the door was missing or anything like that. The reality was that a solid wall stood where the front door used to be as if it had never been there. I’ve been in this library more times than I can count, so there was NO way I could have somehow made a mistake.
The realization with the door was only exacerbated by the fact that I suddenly noticed all of the windows were gone as well. There was nothing but a solid wall in every spot that once had a view to the outside world.
I thought I might have fallen asleep and promptly pinched myself. The pain that shot through my arm confirmed I hadn’t (unless I could suddenly feel pain while dreaming.) So there I was, standing in the middle of the public library with not one soul to be seen.
Maybe it was a prank? A sort of “trick the bookworm,” kind of thing. I tried to force myself against the solid wall that replaced the entrance in case it wasn’t real, but that only caused an uncomfortable throbbing ache in my shoulder. The wall was harder than I imagined and certainly not fake.
I really was trapped.
This is where my instincts kicked in and I broke the golden rule of library etiquette by shouting, “Hello?! Is anyone here?”
I waited for a response but none came. The only sound was the faint clicking of what I presume was an air conditioner. I started to wander and kept inquiring into the open air, “Where is everyone? This isn’t funny! Hello? Is ANYONE in here?!” If the sound of my own voice could equal another person then I’d no longer be alone but unfortunately that’s not how the world works. Then againā¦ how could I ever deign to speak on the inner mechanisms of the universe and the world when I’m stuck in the public library?
How could I have not noticed things changing around me? Was that book really so captivating that it prevented me from witnessing the alteration of time and space? A cold shudder flashed through my veins as every synapse in my brain exploded like fireworks on the 4th of July. Too many thoughts flooded my mind all at once like, ‘What will I eat? Do the bathrooms still function? Where will I sleep?’ And many more.
I continued to let my mind seize control over my critical thinking skills and not in a good way. Luckily, I meandered past a drinking fountain and just so happened to tap it upon impulse revealing a water spout. The water looked clean and I subsequently tasted it and much to my satisfaction; it didn’t taste bad.
So the water dilemma was solved but that still left the second most important issue - food. I could do without a comfortable place to sleep, hell, I definitely wasn’t short on reading material to help me FALL asleep, but none of that would matter if I starved to death.
It was then that I realized something astounding and it was another moment of undeniable confusion. The library had doubled, perhaps even tripled in size.
Now there were several new branching wings that were entirely unfamiliar and the original layout had been warped to accommodate the new additions. I did call out for help again, but the result was the same and in terms of definition - that meant I was insane. Could you blame me though? Naturally I’d want to be saved, or did I? Books and writing and words were my passion and now I was surrounded by a veritable treasure trove of untouched pages with NO ONE to bother me.
Maybe this was a good thing?
Something about this place twisted my mind; it made me disregard my primal survivalistic priorities for a sense of hobbyist comfort. But I was blessed with a good head on my shoulders and although things did not seem in my favor, I was still standing strong.
However, one of the newly emerged wings was almostā¦ calling me. I felt an overwhelming urge to explore it as if the equivalent to the fountain of youth lay somewhere along its shelved corridor. And before I knew it, I was putting one foot in front of the other right towards that wing. It had to have appeared for a reason and it was so oddly placed; it extended diagonally from the middle of the back wall (where I originally found the biography) and took a sharp left turn a ways down.
As I stepped into it, I heard a faint but familiar noise. The sound of an office chair creaking as weight compressed it. There was only one place I knew of that had a chair and that was behind the front desk. Then, I heard the sound of the wheels under the chair rolling against the short carpet.
I was not alone.
I crept slowly between the now towering bookshelves in order to get close enough to see the desk. It seemed further away than it should have been, but as it came into view, I felt warmth, comfort and salvation.
It was Mrs. James, Well, she was facing away from me, but her short hairstyle was unmistakable even from the back.
I approached her quickly and rested my palms flat on the desk. “Mrs. James! You have no idea how glad I am to see you!”
There wasn’t so much as a twitch from her. She said nothing, did nothing and for all intents and purposes, she seemed frozen (although I couldn’t see her face.) “M - Ma’am?” I asked softly and still, no reaction.
It was then that I broke another rule of library etiquette. I walked behind the front desk.
I must have missed her movements because Mrs. James was facing away from me again. Now she appeared to be looking out into the library. Was she ignoring me? Then I thought, “Maybe I’m deadā¦” But that wouldn’t explain the other phenomena.
“Mrs. James, are you okay?” I inquired further and she still said nothing. She didn’t even seem to be breathing if I stared hard enough. I took the initiative and gripped the back of her chair, spinning her around in one swift motion.
It shouldn’t have been possible. Somehow, she was still facing away from me. I spun the chair and saw nothing but the back of her head. But thenā¦ I realizedā¦
That WAS her head.
Her entire head was a copy of what it looked like if you were walking behind her.
I stepped back and found myself at a loss for words. What could you say anyway? There I was, standing mere inches away from an entity that carried a certain sense of familiarity but was aberrant on all accounts. I felt even more alone and even more terrified with the knowledge that thisā¦ twisted version of Mrs. James would now be free to fuel my nightmares while I was trapped here.
I continued to create distance between me andā¦ her. In fact, I slipped inside of the office area where the employee break room was. While one horrifying manifestation sat just outside the room - a triumphant discovery awaited me within. Vending machines, of all kinds, lined the walls.
Trail mix, candy bars, protein bars, chips, drinks and even a machine for an assortment of random things like medicine and earplugs. I had no idea this many vending machines would be necessary for a small public library but if recent events were anything to go by then this current library was anything BUT ordinary. That meant that these machines were likely another aspect of this unorthodox version of Ridgewood library. Still, my food dilemma was resolved.
Well, as long as I could find a way to get the items without paying.
I wasn’t hungry at that moment, so I reluctantly left the room only to find Mrs. James had disappeared.
Standing still, I looked across the now absolutely massive and ever expanding library for any sign of her, but there was none. Now it seemed the library had quadrupled in size, and I noticed something else too.
Someone or something had been moving and stacking books.
Mrs. James perhaps? It’s hard to say. I hadn’t witnessed her actually move and I was completely unsure of her motives or intentions towards me. For all I know, whatever she IS could be the whole reason why I’m trapped here orā¦ it could be something else entirely.
With the knowledge that a fear-inducing version of the former librarian was wandering somewhere in the library, I chose my steps carefully. I found another new section that had comically large encyclopedias all pertaining to seafaring vessels and the lore of Star Trek (strange I know) but the books were big enough that they gave me an idea. I would build a book shelter to at least feel somewhat protected from whatever may be lurking amidst the pages.
It didn’t take me long but man were those books heavy. I took a glance in one but despite the title on the cover - the contents within were written in a garbled language I couldn’t recognize. So, I stacked them. I made high book walls in a stray corner and found even LARGER ones to use as the roof. It was about as comfy as comfy can get with a house of books.
To add the finishing touches, I went to the children’s section of the library which luckily remained the same despite so many other aspects changing. Once there, I snagged several cushions off the chairs people would sit in to read comfortably. After I laid them down in my book fort; it felt complete and I felt safe.
But safe, I was not.
The entire time I was constructing my peculiar literature-based hovel, I had that uneasy feeling of someone being in the room. Like I was being watched.
I covered my fort entrance with the large book I decided to use as a door and tried to sleep. Although I was actually quite comfortable, I just couldn’t shake that feeling. So I left my shelter and headed back to the vending machines; it was about time I ate something anyway and I had no idea what time it was since there were no clocks.
Fortunately, Mrs. James wasn’t sitting in her chair behind the front desk, so I slipped into the lounge uninterrupted. When I actually studied the machines, I noticed they didn’t have any defined slot for money. Upon learning that, I typed the code for a small pack of trail mix (which was D6) and the machine promptly dispensed it. I did the same thing with one of the drink machines and received vitamin water.
I sat in the lounge and enjoyed my quiet meal if you could call it that while still remaining vigilant for anything going on outside of the room. Luckily, I was undisturbed and although the food was measly, I still felt satisfied (at least the drink was nice.)
After I finished, I walked out of the room and stood behind the front desk. I gazed out into the library shuddered at the thought of Mrs. James being somewhere I couldn’t see. I shifted my eyes to the left and then the right and then left again.
But I did a double take because the young woman, the one from earlier, was sitting by where the window should be.
I gasped to myself and froze in place. She didn’t seem to notice me or care for that matter - her eyes were fixed on whatever book she was reading. I took a breath and mustered the courage to call out to her, “H - Hello?”
She turned a page and continued to read.
I came out from behind the desk and approached her, “Miss? Can youā¦ hear me?”
She turned another page, but I noticed something odd. She had this deep-red line around her neck as if it had been cut.
When I reached her, I tapped her shoulder. “Ma’am? Are you okay?”
The moment I finished my question, I was suddenly away from her almost like I had been teleported. I was now the same distance away as I had been before I started to approach her.
While I tried to collect myself, the woman began to move. She closed her book, set it down and then slowly turned her head towards me. There was the sound of tearing skin and popping bones emanating from her entire body like she was recovering from rigor mortis.
She kept turning her head and her body until she was facing away from me. When she had fully turned around, she arched backwards like she was about to do a gymnast tumble except she stayed in that position. Her head hung down and her wrists twisted before she started to crawl towards me.
I took a step back and bumped into a bookshelf. She continued to twist her body in impossible angles and the sound of her bones breaking was tooth clenching. Just as I was about to run away - her head separated from her shoulders and thumped against the floor. Her body kept crawling despite her lack of cranial direction and I watched in horror as her head started to roll on its own.
The head came straight for me and I stepped out of its way. There was a maniacal and all too malevolent smile spread wide on its face. The crawling body bled profusely and soaked the short carpet but it remained steadfast in its pursuit of me.
I sprinted away all the while hearing the sound of the head tumbling across the floor and the quickly distancing echo of the body’s bones cracking. I nearly got lost weaving through the ever changing bookshelves and came around a sharp corner to be met face to face with Mrs. James.
She was standing in a corner, arms at her sides and still looking as if she was facing away from me except the front of her body was towards me. I jumped and gasped, almost having the wind knocked out of me from fear alone. Mrs. James didn’t move and I didn’t either until I heard the horrifying sounds of that devilish exorcist-esque terror fastly approaching.
I ran away again. I ran until I thought the coast was clear and when I did, I returned to my book shelter. I all but threw myself inside and pulled the large book door over the entryway.
I was sealed away from the nightmarish thing lurking between the shelves.
I’m writing this all down in the event that I never make it out of here and I’ll be sure to update you soon, hell, I’m not even sure anyone will ever see this… For now, I’m going to put my phone away because the disembodied head rolls by my shelter every couple of minutes and it only takes another couple for that decrepit crab walking body to follow.
I hope I’m not discovered.
It’s been a few days since I last wrote anything down. I’ve managed to expand my book fortress substantially which has significantly helped my chances for survival. The head and body no longer have a path that leads past my door which means (for the most part) I’m safe. The only issue has been food, drink and the bathroom BUT, I’m working on a book-based tunnel system that leads to the vital areas of the library.
That all may sound a bitā¦ grandiose, but the thing is, books here continually manifest and that leaves me with an infinite amount of building material.
I hate calling them that.
Anyway, I’ve seen Mrs. James quite a few times just standing in ominous positions and unpredictable corners. As far as I can tell, she cannot speak or communicate in any way. It’s hard to determine if she’s even conscious at all or simply relying on some primal instinct. Regardless of which, neither offer any semblance of relief when it comes to my fear.
On the subject of fear, the disembodied head and subsequently headless body plague my sleep. Whenever I try to get some rest, the head comes rolling by somewhere close enough to hear and it’s ALWAYS followed by the body (which, if you read my last entry you’d know is obnoxiously loud and incredibly eerie.)
I’ve still not been able to figure out any reason why I’m here either. I’ve extensively studied the changes in the library for clues but haven’t found even a modicum of an idea. On the days where I’m able to avoid my ever pursuing menaces, I usually use those opportunities to acquire food. But! I did find a water bottle (one I can refill) in a drawer inside of Mrs. James’s desk at reception. So at least I’ve been able to bring water back to my shelter. As long as I’m careful, I can usually smuggle quite a few resources back each time and that just gives me more time to scheme.
I haven’t gone crazy just yet, although the constant reminder of possible death lurks somewhere between the nearby shelves, I’ve maintained a level of objective sanity. I’ll leave it at that for now and I’ll do my best to update you soon.
So, it’s been over a week.
A weekā¦ maybe more? Maybe less. I can’t even tell anymore. The light in here never changes and my phone, the one I’m using to write this stuff, seems to have malfunctioned in such a way that neither the calendar nor the time work.
But, I do have some good news!
A couple days ago, I was out trying to once again discover my purpose for being here. Unfortunately, I miscalculated the positions of the head and the body.
While I was perusing one of the study rooms, I made a classic mistake. I didn’t pay attention to where I was in the room in accordance with the doorway and before I could even react; it was too late.
The tumbling sound of the head quickly entered the air around me and I turned to see it rolling directly towards my legs. I tried to kick it, but it latched its teeth onto my shin and I let out an agonizing scream.
I reached down with both hands and gripped the sides of the head in an effort to pry it off my leg. But then, the scurrying sound of footsteps swiftly invaded the room and when I looked up, I saw the fastly advancing headless body.
While acting the best I could, I decided to avoid the body for the sake of running. Even if the head was gnawing at my flesh, at least I could put some distance between me and the body.
I ran through the library which had changed again and not in my favor. I was looking for my shelter because at least being there meant I was relatively safe (in my mind) from everything else and I could deal with the head alone. I looked over my shoulder to see if the body was behind me but it wasn’t, and as I turned a corner I bumped directly into Mrs. James.
I fell backwards to the floor and the head laughed as the pressure from its teeth got stronger. I ignored the pain and stared at Mrs. James for a short while, she didn’t move and I was lost in thought. Then, the head clenched its jaw harsher than ever before and it prompted anger in me. I stood up and grabbed the closest (and particularly large) book I could find.
Its eyes turned up towards me just as I was slamming the book against it. One heaving blow after another. The head produced a gurgling blood sound and a raspy screech but I did not stop until it was nothing but a mess of viscera and blood-soaked gray matter.
After I was certain it was dead, I sat down with my back against a bookshelf. Mrs. James hadn’t moved an inch the entire time and I stared directly at her horrifyingly disturbing head from my seated position.
My leg was bleeding, bad too, if I didn’t get it cleaned and patched up soon, I’d be in trouble. But, I haven’t really been able to catch a break since I’ve been in this place and that instance was no different. The pitter-patter of the frighteningly familiar body was approaching; it probably had a connection with the head and knew where I was all along, silly me.
I wasn’t going to be caught off-guard this time though.
I stood up, ran down the long shelved corridor and stopped at the end where two diverging paths met. To the left of me was a medium sized shelf in height, precariously stacked far higher with books of all shapes and sizes. That gave me an idea.
Mrs. James was still standing idly about midway down the corridor when the body rounded the corner at the far end and proceeded to quicken its pace directly towards me. As it passed by Mrs. James, I readied myself.
It crawled, fast and determined and I pressed my hands against the base of the book stack. I waited and waited, for the right moment. And then, I pushed with all my might and watched as the stack toppled over and landed right on top of the headless body. That visage of scurrying death writhed under the books as a pool of blood slowly began to soak the carpet.
I stomped on top of the books to add some more weight to them which only caused the body to writhe more. I looked up at where Mrs. James was, but she had disappeared, to where, I didn’t know.
I felt weak and I realized it was because of the wound in my leg, and then, I passed out.
My vision was blurry when I next awoke. I felt for my leg and reeled back in pain; it stung and burned. Then I remembered my run in with the crawling body and immediately looked to see if it was still under the toppled books.
It was and what’s more important is it wasn’t moving.
I tried to stand but my leg had lost enough blood to feel too weak and numb making it extremely difficult to walk. I chose to crawl instead of walking; it was my goal to get to the vending machine where I could acquire some medicine for the pain and potentially something for disinfecting.
Mrs. James wasn’t down that particular bookcase corridor anymore but the mess I made with the disembodied head had dried and soaked into the carpet. It formed a deep red stain that would likely never be removed. Who would care anyway? Certainly not me, even IF this place becomes my permanent reality.
I crawled to the break room and hoisted myself up so that I could see into the machine. It had earplugs, goggles, safety glasses, bandages of varying shapes and sizes, painkillers, sleeping aids, tissue, toothpicks and toothbrushes; it had mini toothpaste, scissors and even nail clippers but nothing for disinfecting. I wondered if I was still early enough to clean the wound without worry of infection because if I wasn’t, that would surely mean my demise.
I wrapped my leg with a gauze-like bandage and attempted to stand again. I was at least able to maintain a limp although I moved rather slowly. It was my goal to get to the bathroom and clean the wound as best I could.
When I hobbled out of the breakroom, I THOUGHT I saw movement in the direction of the bathroom. It was a tall, dark shape but fleeting and gone as soon as I turned my head. By that time, I was assuming that my blood loss was causing false visions despite the shocking things I had already seen. Who wants to believe they’re actually trapped in some sort of private hell where something new manifests at each moment of reprieve?
My arm felt cold as I leaned it against the wall leading towards the bathroom. I was using it for support and my head was starting to swim. I didn’t want to black out again, especially not out in the open, not like before.
I think I probably got lucky earlier. Any number of dangerous entities could have descended upon me in my vulnerable state.
Anyway, I rounded the short corner connecting that side hallway to the bathroom corridor. The bathroom was a singular unisex room with several stalls and sinks. When the door came into view, I froze.
An exceedingly tall man wearing a tattered trench coat was slipping inside of the bathroom. He leaned down to fit through the doorway and he didn’t seem to notice me. I NEEDED to get in there because I’d be out of luck if I didn’t clean this wound diligently soon.
Once the door closed behind the man, I crept up to it and put my ear against it. I couldn’t hear anything happening on the other side, butā¦ maybe he was friendly? I mean, that’s what I was thinking to myself at that time.
Now I know that’s not true.
Well, I decided that if I was going to die, I’d rather it not be slowly and with immense pain from a festering leg wound. So I pushed through the door but kept an air of vigilance around me.
The man was nowhere to be seen. Like he had completely disappeared. Like the bathroom was somehow a gateway to another realm, much like how I arrived here in the first place. Him not being there lifted my spirits and graced me with a sense of safety, I could take care of my leg in peace. At leastā¦ that’s how it seemed.
I propped my leg up on one of the sinks and unraveled the bandage. It already looked gruesome, the wound that is; it was a mess of dried blood and exposed muscle. The moment the water touched it, I winced from the stinging pain it created. It was excruciating and I bared my teeth while gently dabbing the wound with a paper towel. Furthermore, I was trying my best not to open the wound again.
My eyes were so focused on my wound that I hadn’t even bothered looking in the mirror. I wish I would have right away because the moment I did, I froze once again.
A pair of shoes were poking out from under one of the stalls. I guarantee you they weren’t there when I came in, unless I somehow lost my perfect vision. I could see that the shoes weren’t empty and my eyes slowly began to scan the stall door all the way to the top.
What I felt when they reached the top I can only liken to a mini heart attack because rising above the stall door, looming like a devious shadow, was the man.
His face was sullen and gaunt, deeply sunken in like he was malnourished. He didn’t have irises but he did have pupils and they were staring into the mirror, directly at me.
I quickly pulled my leg off the sink and began to limp towards the door. I glanced over to see the man’s hands grip the top of the stall as he pushed the door open with great ferocity. I barreled through the door and limped as quickly as possible around the closest corner and out of sight.
Despite the library’s changing nature, I had memorized some of the familiar areas that didn’t seem to alter as often or not at all. This was fortunate for me because that meant my shelter was always in the same spot. I crouched down behind a short bookshelf and peered over the top. The man came into view and surveyed the open entrance area of the library while breathing intensely. His gaze never met mine and he ended up stomping off in a different direction.
I used the opportunity to slip away and get to my shelter. Mrs. James was standing outside of my large book door and any amount of nerves I had left were torched from fear. I took a few deep breaths and forced the book door aside. I crawled into my shelter and pulled the book over the entrance behind me.
Then, I sat still. I remained quiet and I listened.
There were faint stomping noises in the distance, but as it stood (and as far as I was concerned) I was in the clear.
I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d handle this new threat. I managed to deal with the previous one, but it was mostly by accident.
I’m feeling exhausted.
I’ll update you soon and I hope for the love of ANYTHING that he doesn’t find me. Mrs. James doesn’t hold a candle to him and quite frankly? I sense he might be even more dangerous than the head and body.
Hopefully I don’t have to find out. Anyway, I’m not feeling well.
Okay, listen.
I’m not well.
My leg is not well.
Butā¦ It’s not infected. I’m not a doctor though, so I can’t be entirely sure. There doesn’t appear to be any discoloration and it doesn’tā¦ smell. I know those are usually common signs of gangrene or whatever sort of debilitating illness one could acquire from such an injury.
Aside from that; it’s been a hellish few days. Unrelenting disturbances, horrid manifestations and that man. His height has allowed him to tower over most of the shelves and his ability to lean has granted him access to my blocked off section.
I’ve peered between one of the cracks I have in my book walls only to see his lanky body bent over a nearby shelf with his head diligently scanning the area. The first time it happened, I almost gave myself away by gasping. What I fool I’d have to be to do something like that.
But, it means I won’t be safe for long.
The only bright side is that he appears to be of a primal intelligence. Despite my obvious shelter, he doesn’t seem to notice or even remotely connect the dots that I’m hiding within. That’s good for me, but it only takes one mistake on my end to lose it completely.
On another note, the man isn’t the only thing I’ve been having to avoid.
Mrs. Jamesā¦ she’s been actingā¦ different.
I’ve seen her walking now and it’s not any less of a nightmare. She wanders without purpose, or so it seems. Regardless, I’ve caught her standing right outside my walls several times. She never does anything while she’s there other than stand, but I wonder what it is she wants.
Anyway, I’ve basically been out of commission since my leg was injured. It’s been hard and aggravating at the same time. I can at least walk now, but not very fast and I mostly certainly cannot run. That means my vigilance has increased tenfold, I won’t have another incident like before. Besidesā¦ if one were to happen, I don’t know if I’d survive it this time around.
Mrs. James is here again.
I’ll update you soon, hopefully.
I’m going to start signifying my new entries with a simple, ‘New Entry’ followed by a number. The number will only be for organization purposes and it will not represent anything significant. Besides, I have no idea what day, year or even time it is. I can’t trust anything around me to be correct anyway.
New Entry: 1?
How many days has it been? Do things even work here the same as the real world? I’m not able to write down my experience in any uniform way and I usually write after something terrible has happened, which is often. So, I apologize if things seemā¦ all over the place.
Speaking of all over the place.
The man, you know the one - tall, angry and seemingly hell bent to kill me? Yeah, he’s been running FURIOUSLY in a circle for what I’d have to say is hours on end. His facial expression never changes from one of contempt; it’s a grimace of sorts but filled with something moreā¦ evil.
I threw something to see if he would stop moving, but nothing happened. He just kept going in a circle. He’s been doing it so long that a rut has appeared in the carpet, now that’s dedication. I caught Mrs. James STANDING in the middle of the circle he is creating and that only raises more questions.
On the topic of questions, I have many and none have answers. My leg has healed remarkably quick; it’s almost like I was never injured. Due to that fact, I’ve made some discreet expeditions to gather more supplies and I’ve even gone as far as to bolster my shelter further. I now have the castle of book forts and am growing rather fond of it.
I’ve discovered something of actual interest though - in one of my more recent perambulations. There lies, deep within the library, a map. Not just ANY map, no. This is a map of the library and it appears to change as the library does. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to study it for long as it seems that whenever I leave my shelter, the man ends his circle making in favor of hunting me down.
And believe me when I say, he always finds me.
When I recently went out to find the map again; it wasn’t there. I should say, the library has changed which has been an unfortunate and constant struggle for me. But, while I was out, I made a new discovery that was not any less confusing.
A book. An absolutely MASSIVE book, I mean, it was at least twenty-five feet tall. I don’t know what the significance is, but the book pertained to musical theory, well, that’s what the title on the cover said. There’s no way in hell, not even this hell, that I’ll be able to move it ESPECIALLY with this bum leg. But I do think something is behind it.
The biggest problem is that I take a step forward and probably more than five steps back every time I learn something new. The way the library changes really hinders my progress in figuring things out. The only thing that I’m fortunate enough to have here is my shelter which NEVER seems to disappear. But it’s always a life or death situation whenever I leave.
Anyway, another thing that happened when I was last out (and this is after finding the huge book) is me having to outrun the man. Let me tell you, HE IS FAST. I had to resort to using the shelves and various other surroundings in order to escape him and half the time he just knocked the shelves over.
I did notice something odd though, while I was running away. There was another man lurking in the shadows of a poorly lit corner. Well, I thought there was a man and because of the things I’ve already experienced up until now, I have no reason not believe it was.
Like the map I had found, I wasn’t able to get enough of a look due to the tall nuisance CONSTANTLY present. Obviously, as I’m writing this down, I made it back to my shelter but that wasn’t the last time I ventured out.
In fact, the last time was a bit of a miscalculation.
I hadn’t even planned on leaving thatā¦ day? I was actually busy reading a book on world history (which is what I did when I wasn’t gone or sleeping) when I heard a most peculiar sound.
Chanting, followed by a low-ringing bell.
Even though the chanting seemed far away, I was still able to hear the individual words. But, they weren’t recognizable as any language I’ve ever heard before. Based on what I believe I heard - the chant sounded like this, “Se’ok murok celimik bodarumā¦” Then the bell would ring four times. The chant would then repeat unchanging.
Now, I’m not sure if that’s EXACTLY what I heard (in terms of the spelling) but that’s what it sounded like. I still have no clue to the origin of the chant but I did sneak out of my shelter to search for it.
Like always, the tall man veered away from his circle and began a mission to snuff me out. But, I had grown used to being chased by him. Or so I thought.
The chanting continued and I seemed to be getting closer to it. I could now pick out several different voices combined in the chant but still didn’t see a sign of the source. I had found myself in an unknown section of the library, one I had never seen before; it was palatial. The ceiling stretched high into a dome like shape and several large and red pillars reached from the floor to the base of the dome. Each pillar was adorned with jewels and had images of foreign beings carved into them.
Black curtains draped from halfway down the pillars to meet the floor and it seemed like the chanting stemmed from the other side. I looked around to see if the man was nearby, (I could usually tell because his footsteps were loud and abrasive) but couldn’t see or hear him.
So, I poked my head through the curtain and instantly the chanting stopped. There was nothing on the other side save for a large, rusty bell that sat atop a stone plinth. However, I never got the chance to investigate because heavy footsteps invaded my mind and I realized a little too late that the volume of the chanting masked the tall man’s resounding footsteps.
Before I could turn around, my arm was grabbed and yanked with tremendous force. I thought my shoulder had been dislocated but I wasn’t able to check because I was suddenly thrown backwards onto the hard carpet. The man was standing over me with a solemn expression as if he regretted his actions despite his continuation of carrying them out.
I scooted back on my elbows and he stepped towards me with such strength that I thought he might crush me with one stomp. He displayed no anger or remorse while trying to to end my life. I was close enough now to get a really good look at him, but there really wasn’t much to see.
As I’ve previously said, he appears older with a neutral expression, however, his mouth does seem on the verge of frowning if that makes sense. He has many wrinkles that are set deep in his skin. His eyes are a pale-yellow and he has no hair.
His clothing is odd as well and being so close to him (even if my demise was at hand) allowed me to study what he wore. Aside from his dirty hiking boots, he wore a tattered black trench coat with a gray shirt underneath. He had a thick leather belt and leather pants as if he were some kind of motorcycle enthusiast with a knack for chivalry (in terms of characterization, that’s all I have to accurately describe his odd get up.)
I was almost entranced by his appearance, like his form had some sort of hypnotic property to it.
But, as I studied him, something most unexpected happened.
Just as the man was about to advance on me for what would probably have been the last time - he became distracted. He turned his head toward the darkness to our left and for the first time since being subject to his torment, his eyes narrowed.
Then, he SPRINTED into the shadows after something I could not see. I didn’t wait around for him to come back and clambered to my feet. Although my arm was aching and quite sore, I returned to my shelter without further issue.
The man never returned, or at least, he hasn’t yet. However, Mrs. James has returned to her strange antics of appearing and standing in random places seemingly without reason. My arm has a massive bruise on it and is almost numb to the touch. There has definitely been some damage and no amount of medical study is going to allow me to fix it. So, it’s something I’ve been learning to deal with.
or, find the bell. I’m not sure of the significance of the book or the bell, but the map is definitely a necessity so that’s probably where I’ll start. I can’t say for sure right now.
All I know is that Mrs. James has appeared and is standing outside my book door, but my arm hurts too much for me to care.
I’ll update you soon. I hope.
New Entry: 2
So I have been completely unable to find something to write with. It’s actually aggravating because although I seem to be able to use my phone to write things down, I can’t truly analyze my findings as well as I could if I had something to draw with. Like creating a map for example. Although, I’m not sure how well it would work.
Aside from that frustration, I woke up after a nap recently, the time of which was indeterminate. My phone’s clock is stuck at 00:00 and the other clocks here just tick back and forth. Anyway, I woke up and found something curious outside of my book door.
Another book! Who would have thought? This one was different though because once I opened it, I realized just how fortunate I was.
The book was old and had what I can only assume was a fully deciphered language - the likes of which appeared to be the very same language I heard during the chant. I still don’t know how it got there, or who deciphered it because (as envious as I might be) someone WROTE the deciphered words inside with black ink. Since then, I’ve been studying it diligently and learning everything I can. Furthermore, the book contains other information deep within.
I’ve learned enough about the language now that I’m able to understand a little about this place. As far as I can gather, the library once belonged to a zealot congregation that used it to store and study all manner of magical knowledge. But, it appears that something unexpected happened which caused some sort of strange rift to form. The rift connected the library to a dimensional crossroads that’s currently unstable which is why it’s always changing.
Another detail I learned is that the people in question were called, “The Laturiam” and they kept extensive records somewhere else in the library, I’m not certain where. Of course, all of this sounds outlandish and could quite possibly be nothing but bullshit. But, what else do I have to lose in believing?
Oh, one more thing. The chant. According to the language I’ve learned, I believe the mantra was, “Rise miasmic shadow bodarum.” The last word I haven’t been able to decipher yet because it doesn’t seem to be anywhere in this book.
And before I forget. The library is a collection of literature from places and times both known and unknown. As far as the book says; it has the power to manifest oddities, or what it refers to as, “Irregular designs” for no apparent reason. This would explain the absolute nerve-destroying terror creatures I’ve been having to deal with.
Still nothing about how to get out. Or how I got in. I’ll have to try and learn more.
New Entry: 3
So, I’m not sure how right I am with this, but I’m FAIRLY certain that the word “Bodarum,” is actually a name. I think that some group of people are somewhere within the library worshipping this being. To what end, I do not know.
I forgot to mention in my last entry, but the man is relentless. He’s back in full force just stomping around constantly; it makes it really difficult to sleep. Maybe that’s his goal, just deprive me of my mental faculties until I reveal myself. Unfortunately for him - there’s a vending machine with earplugs and although I can still feel the vibration of his stomping; it simply reminds me of when my mother would stomp down the halls of our home every morning before school. I’ve learned to associate the sensation with comfortability, even if it shouldn’t be.
I’ve also got this really crazy theory. Ever since I read that book, I’ve been wondering as to why my section (the section with my shelter and necessities) never changes so drastically that I lose my way. And then, it came to me. I think that someway, somehow, I’m a bonding agent. What I mean is, I am like the glue holding this section together.
That sounds preposterous I know, but when you’ve been stuck in a place like this for as long as I think I have - you tend to let your mind wander. I’ve also come to the conclusion that there might be other parts of the library that are mainstays. Certain areas where there might be another person like me. Which, of course, would support the notion that the reason the man spared me was because someone else was standing in the shadows. Perhaps someone he’s been hunting for a long time. Perhaps someone who might have placed a book at my door.
None of that is concrete information, just my perspective. It’s also a littleā¦ wishful thinking. I really miss companionship.
New Entry: 4
Mrs. James has been moving around a lot lately. She doesn’t move quickly, but I still find myself watching her whenever she’s nearby. The tall man’s shoes have been worn down so his socks and he just keeps walking. I hate to say this, but I feel a bit bad because he can’t grasp the idea that I still find ways to slip in and out unnoticed. I shouldn’t get too cocky though because of what happened the last time I was complacent.
I thought I heard a voice the other day, orā¦ night, I’m not sure. The voice was calming and warm; it soothed my weary mind. However, it was probably just some trick by the library or a delusion. I only say that because I haven’t seen any sort of sign of another person except for the book appearing at my door. That could have been something else entirely though, I can’t say for sure.
One thing I am thankful for is the constant changing of books around me. There is never a shortage of material. I take solace in that fact, even if it is hard to read with how loud the man is sometimes. I usually just throw some earplugs in and try to escape to somewhere else within the old pages.
If anything - at least I’ll have extensive knowledge of all sorts of things if I ever get out of here.
New Entry: 5
Something terrible has happened.
While I was gathering supplies from the vending machines, I heard quickened footsteps from outside the library lounge. I could not even begin to believe that suddenly the man had found me. But when he didn’t enter the lounge, my fears were lessened and it gave me courage to poke my head out to see into the library. And when I did, I nearly fainted from surprise.
Another person, just like me, was running away from the man. They were using some weird book contraptions (crafted with other materials as well) to stave off the man’s assault. I didn’t dare get involved. I figured that I’d sooner die than actually be able to save someone. However, there was another part of me that was desperate for human contact and my wishes were being answered right before me.
I just couldn’t will myself to intervene.
The other person ran off down a dark corridor and the man followed close behind. After a few minutes, I heard terrible screaming. The man hasn’t returned, but I also haven’t seen a single sign of the other person. I fear they were caught. My only chance at companionshipā¦ gone so quickly.
It’s not a total loss though, Mrs. James has been around more frequently. While the situation with her head is still perplexing and ostensibly horrific; it doesn’t bother me as much as it once did. She emits this aura that bathes me in contentment. Maybe that’s just me losing my mind - the kind of solace I’m experiencing does crazy things to a person.
What’s worse is that something new has emerged. And this time it doesn’t resemble a human.
I was reading something about metallurgy when I sensed an unfamiliar presence. It was like something had phased into existence very close to my shelter. The air became cold and a faint gale whipped up. I shuddered and leaned back against the firm book wall behind me. This position also gave me a slight view between two books comprising my wall.
And I really don’t know how to describe what I saw.
If I had to try - I’d say it wasā¦ ethereal? I mean, I could hardly tell something was even there. What I could see was enough to send a shiver down my spine, but it certainly wasn’t anything I had ever seen before. The only comparison would be a wraithā¦ of sorts; it appeared translucent but wispy at the same time with its form resembling more of a mist than anything else.
The longer I stared, the more visible it became. It still retained that mist-like form, but I started to be able to discern other aspects about it. For instance; it bore long claws that limply stretched to the floor and the hands those claws were attached to were obscured by a low-draping sleeve. My eyes traced the beings arm to the base of its misty hood. And at that moment; it turned its head.
Death. Horrifying and inescapable. Its face was that of a skull split in twain with a dangling mandible and sharp teeth. When it turned its head, I had to cover my mouth so I wouldn’t breathe too loud. I never thought I’d ever see anything remotely close to that. I may seem excited, but I was shocked and terrified.
Its jaw swung back and forth while it searched. What it was looking for, I wasn’t sure, I just hoped it wasn’t me.
Whatever that thing was; it came and went swiftly like the wind but not before issuing a deviant smile in my direction. It knew I was there and it didn’t do anything to me. But, I haven’t been able to forget the look of its melting face. The beings chin drooped loosely off its dangling jaw and each eye was set deep within a dark and sunken socket.
Some kind of ectoplasmic substance dripped off its broken teeth and burned the carpet below. It also had a book tied to a chain wrapped around its waist. I don’t really know what that means - after all, I was just glad it had come and gone.
New Entry: 6
I haven’t seen that wraith thing since my last entry. I haven’t even seen the man. What I have seen, is Mrs. James andā¦ something else. Do you remember; it must have been weeks ago now, where I mentioned someone had been stacking books? Yeah, I found out who, or rather, what.
I was awoken from a routine nap by the sound of pages flipping. Once I gathered my mental faculties, I felt a primal rage brewing inside me. It’s one thing to be roused from a quaint afternoon slumber by some sort of “real world” problem, but when it comes to seemingly being in a displaced reality? Well, I figured I could be without such bothersome annoyances.
Anyway, the pages continued to flip. It was like someone was picking up book after book just to skim through the pages like a poorly drawn sticky-note animation. I moved to a spot (quietly) where I could get a glimpse of the library beyond my shelter. At first, I didn’t see ANYTHING, I just kept hearing that sound - ever present. However, a slight movement caught my eye.
And it all made sense. The reason I couldn’t see the source was because my eyes were on the ground. Once I looked up, I realized my gaze should have stayed down.
It was long and clung to the ceiling. A grey, tattered blanket covered its entire body. But on its back were several holes torn into the cloth it wore. And just as I was about to question why - the answer was revealed. Six fleshy tendrils emerged from the creature’s back and slid across the top of each nearby bookshelf. One tendril would pick up a book at random (or seemingly so) and then another would appear to scour the pages. I couldn’t see the creature’s head, if it even had one, so I had no idea how it could be reading.
Still, despite all the things I have seen thus far, that thing managed to strike a deep, fearful chord within my person. I wanted to burst from my shelter and run just to be even a few feet further away from whatever that thing was.
I noticed a part of it would move ever so slightly as the tendrils continued their work. When one was done with a book; it would make a neat-ish stack next to it. Which only made me quiver with the thought that I had already seen the remnants of this creature’s antics without even knowing. And then I wondered if it had been on the ceiling the entire time.
No. It couldn’t have been. Unless of course; it’s not dangerous, but I have no reason to believe it isn’t.
Whatever the case, I remained quiet. I admit though; it was somewhatā¦ enchanting to watch this thing peruse pages.
That was until I heard the chanting. The same chanting from before.
The creature heard it too, or at least, it reacted to the newly present sound. It put every book down and began to scurry across the ceiling, but suddenly a crude arrow struck its side and the creature howled louder than anything I had ever heard inside of a library.
Then, it knocked a shelf over that was obstructing my vision to the closest aisle. And there, I saw five hooded figures each brandishing their own crude weaponry.
Two continued to chant while the rest pushed their assault against the book stacking creature. It whipped its tendrils at them but they just kept approaching. Soon enough, another arrow pierced it and the damage dealt must have been significant because the creature fell from the ceiling. It writhed on the floor before being silenced by a makeshift spear.
I just sat and watched. But I was more worried about being discovered. And in that moment, I feared those individuals more than the creature that was on the ceiling.
I’m not sure how I’ve been able to communicate with people online since I was under the impression none of that actually worked here, but I’ve been receiving helpful tips. I don’t know how old they are, or who is sending them because my phone does not display time correctly, nor do any of the apps work properly. Hopefully people are following along and I apologize for the time it took to update you.
If you’re reading this now - know that the group of zealots are still nearby. They never left and one of them keeps getting awfully close to my shelter. If I understand the language correctly; they want to set up a camp of some sort.
I’ll be sure to update you soon. If I’m alive to do so.
Where’s that tall man when you actually need him. New Entry: 8
I know it’s been awhile, but it hasn’t been safe enough to keep my eyes off the surrounding area. I haven’t slept much at all for the past week or so and it’s really starting to have a toll on me. Luckily, the zealots recently left, so I have managed a few hours of shut-eye.
For what it’s worth; they never discovered me. I can’t believe it myself, but they never once even hinted towards the thought of surveying the area. Not ONCE did any of them come remotely close to my book shelter; it was like they didn’t even know it was there. I’m surprised just as much as you are - whoever might be reading this.
I spent most of the time listening to their conversations. There was a lot of talk about large movements of their “congregation” from one area to another and that this area had been “tapped” of resources. Whatever that means. I got a real good look at them too and for all intents and purposes; they look just like us. Human, I mean.
The only difference being the multitude of archaic tattoos and scarification on their bodies, specifically the face. Unfortunately, since I haven’t been able to leave my shelter; it’s been completely soiled. I’ll have to either make a new one somewhere, or risk scouting the library for a more suitable living situation.
Perhaps the latter will be more beneficial in the end. If anyone has been following along, I apologize for my lack of engagement. I am unable to see any sort of response despite my phone telling me there have been comments. Something about this library is preventing me from seeing any of it, like it wants me to feel isolated. I’m not sure.
New Entry: 9
So I’ve finally abandoned my shelter. Despite finally being free of all my haunts and menaces, I couldn’t stay there any longer. I had outgrown the area and because of the amount of time I’ve been here - I’ve begun to think on more permanent terms.
My ultimate goal was to find a way to live up high, perhaps on the top of a large bookcase somewhere. I remembered seeing some near the massive book door that I was never able to explore due to the tall man. But, since I haven’t seen him in who knows how long, I figured I could now safely search for that section.
By some stroke of luck, I actually found that area again. Lo and behold, there were several towering book shelves perfectly viable for living on AND one of them had a ladder. It was a good thing I climbed up before observing the surrounding area because a group of those zealots marched by with crudely fashioned weapons.
This has been going on routinely like some sort of patrol for the last likeā¦ ten hours? It has made it exceedingly difficult to start constructing my new home of permanence, but they have to sleep sometime, right?
New Entry: 10
Finally, I was given time to explore the surrounding area enough to learn that I was in the prime spot for a residence. I discovered another room similar to the break room near my old shelter that housed a whole brand new array of vending machines as well; it was close too, close enough to be viable. Better yet, a bathroom lies right next to it, so I’ve got all the bases covered.
I’ve begun construction on the new shelter too. It’s been hard to lug the larger books up the ladder, but it has been rewarding as well. I actually find fulfillment in building what will soon be my place of living. Luckily the top of the book shelf is roughly twenty feet wide and probably more than fifty feet long; it makes for a wonderful platform of solidity.
One more thing, because I’m higher up, it’s warmer. Heat rises after all and therefore, I don’t have to worry about being cold that often. Hopefully, at least.
New Entry: 11
Construction has been eventful. I’m almost done with the first iteration which will likely be expanded upon in the future. I’m proud of what I’ve built and the fact that I’ve not had a run in with anything terrifying has me in high spirits. I apologize for the drastic amount of time it’s taking me to update you, but time just doesn’t work the same way for me here. I have no idea what day it is, how long it’s been or even when the last time I slept was.
It’s honestly a miracle I’m even still alive.
New Entry: 12
You won’t believe this, but the big book door? The one I couldn’t move? Yeah, well; it opened. By opened, I mean it slid open just enough for a person to slip through and I’m pretty sure I saw someone leave. I waited and watched for them to return but I started to get tired and probably missed them after passing out.
Recently, I accepted that I’ll never get out of here. I’ve been coming to grips with the possibility of spending the rest of my days scurrying about like a fearful rat searching for any number of scraps just to stay alive day to day. I hadn’t thought about food, water or any of my other survival necessities since leaving my last shelter and it made me wonder if I needed any of it anymore.
Of course I did, my stomach rumbling didn’t lie.
Luckily, there were plenty of vending machines nearby. I just had to descend the bookshelf every time I wanted to get something from them, so I thought about finding a way to make something to carry vast amounts of food and drink in one trip. Efficient AND effective.
Maybe I can learn how to make something from a book around here?
New Entry: 13
Five days. It’s been five days since I’ve last written anything down and things areā¦ bad.
All of my food has rotted. The vending machines in this area have stopped working entirely and a new horror has emerged from the abyss of the library.
It’s hard to describe. Not quite man and not quiteā¦ zombie? There are several of them, always groaning like the living dead but with an affinity for standing at the base of my ladder. They don’t seem to be highly intelligent because they haven’t tried to climb up to me yet, but, I haven’t given them a reason to suspect I’m up here.
Unfortunately, I’m going to starve if I don’t do something soon.
But, there’s hope.
I’ve seen people going in and out of that big book door. Alive. They leave with an empty sack and return with it brimming with supplies. I haven’t tried to make my presence known because I don’t want those things to hear me, but everyday I think about just shouting across the massive space between me and the door with the hope of being saved.
That’s probably a bad idea, but bad ideas are just about all I have left.
New Entry: 14
I must be losing my mind. I could have sworn I saw a sprawling human collective beyond that big book door. I’ve been so fixated on it, I even resorted to attempting to throw something whenever I see someone leave.
I’ve learned their gathering schedule and it might be my saving grace. I think I’m going to wait until one of their groups is about to return and then I’ll try to run over to them, maybe I can join theirā¦ whatever it is? I can only hope.
New Entry: 15
The zombies or whatever have finally shambled far enough away for me to make a move. I actually waited behind a pillar close to the big book door for it to open, but the problem was; it never did. I thought I knew their schedule, but all it did was make me further question my own sanity.
I waited for hours on end for a sign of life, but none came. I was forced to retreat back to my new shelter which, as it stood, felt far inferior to my first one. I kind of missed it.
There was an issue though. My ladder had somehow broken while I was away. I don’t know how, or if someone (or something) did it, but I’m royally screwed if I’m stuck out here for too long.
I’ve nestled myself in a crevice between two adjoining bookshelves. The space is just big enough for me to sit down; it isn’t comfortable, but at least I feel safe.
I’m going to try to rest my eyes for a while now.
New Entry: 16
My wait was worthwhile! I was awoken by the sound of the door opening and standing at its base were two people! Both of them appeared to be women and they seemed to be having some sort of disagreement (although it was too faint to hear.) I quickly made my presence known because I didn’t know when I’d get another chance. Naturally, they were both startled and each of them produced makeshift weapons in an attempt to keep me at bay.
I held my hands out and tried to calm them down, “Wait! Please listenā¦ I’ve been stuck here for so long now, I don’t even know how long it’s been! Help me, please, I promise I can contribute to whatever you might have going on behind thereā¦” I gestured with my head towards the book door.
One of them lowered their weapons and started to confer with the other. After about two minutes they both turned to me and for the first time since being here, I heard the voice of another genuine human being. “We’ve been watching you. You do good work and you seem to know how to survive.” The voice was soothing and notably feminine.
“I’m not a survivalist!” I said quickly, “I just read a lot and know how to apply practical logic to most situations. Most of the time my survival is based on pure luck! That’sā¦ my opinion anywayā¦”
“I don’t think so.” Said the second, who also had a feminine voice. “You outwitted the man, you know the one.”
“The tall one?” I did no such thing! He nearly broke my arm and if I’m being honest, I have no idea what happened to him!"
They turned towards each other again. There was some conversation between them before the first one to speak said, “Come with us. It’s not safe to talk out here for long.”
The second chimed in, “You can’t bring that with you.” They pointed past me at something I was unaware of.
When I turned around, I saw Mrs. James.
I jumped and felt my heart skip. I immediately turned to face the two presumably women and explained, “It’s not with me. It’s been following me since I got here. I don’t know what it wants, but I know it looks an awful lot like the librarian who worked at the library in my hometown.”
“It can’t come with you. The rest would vote to kill it and we can’t in good conscience let that happen.”
“What do you mean, do you know what it is?”
“Yes and no. We know that these entities exist all throughout the Librarynth and that they often latch onto a host. As far as we are aware; they don’t seem to be hostile but others might disagree. So it can’t. Come. With.” The woman was being extremely serious based off the tone in her voice, but I didn’t really know what to do about Mrs. James.
I turned around to face her and said, as gentle as could be, “Hello, Mrs. James? I can’t have you following me anymore. I appreciate the fact that you haven’t tried to hurt me yet, not like everything else here, but these people won’t let me into safety unless you stay out here. So, if it’s me you want, then please consider waiting for me to come back out, if I do.”
I don’t know what I expected, but nothing happened. Mrs. James just stood still without any movement whatsoever. I didn’t know if she even heard me anyway. But, whether she did or didn’t, I wasn’t going to let her stop me from finding salvation.
I slowly turned away from her and began to walk towards the big book door. My speech to Mrs. James must have been satisfactory for the two women because they let me in even though there wasn’t any sort of response. For that, I was grateful.
New Entry: 17
I know it’s been a long time, but I’ve been living amongst the people stuck in Shakespeare for a couple of weeks now. That’s what they call the place beyond the door. I asked if it had anything to do with the famous poetical playwright and the hierarchy said that someone from his time actually founded the town. Ever since its foundation, it has suffered attacks from both the library and the faction of Laturiam that are stuck here.
I say stuck, but as far as I’ve learned; they sought to be here. Apparently, the Laturiam worship a being called Bodarum. Bodarum detests the acquisition of knowledge in all forms - especially literature. This library has existed for an indeterminate amount of time and as I understand it, the Laturiam wanted to appeal to their God by summoning it within the library.
But they failed. Instead they breathed life into a long dormant mechanism that manifests evil. That evil in turn seeks to destroy all foreign bodies. That would explain why I’ve been plagued so heavily by terrifying entities, but it does NOT explain Mrs. James.
I brought her existence up to the hierarchy of Shakespeare and they mentioned another instance of this happening before. Another sorry soul was sucked into the library and left to fend for themselves, but not before being given a sort ofā¦ protector.
That’s not to say that Mrs. James is good by any means, but it plays into the fact that something, somewhere in this library doesn’t desire the death of every living thing within.
Anyway, I’ve been learning how to acclimate to life here in the library and more particularly, Shakespeare. I’ve gone on some of the “V-runs” with the other scouts for supplies and they’ve shown me the ropes on living. Although, they have each expressed their individual surprise in how well I did on my own.
Shakespeare feels safe, but I know it’s not. As far as everyone who lives here is concerned? If the library wishes it, the library gets it.
“Wish upon the pages,” is the motto amongst the people and it stands for the way almost everyone arrived here. It also, however, stands for everyone’s desire to leave. People spend countless hours turning page after page looking for a way out. Some people have accepted their fate and choose instead, to live their best life and I can’t blame them.
For what it’s worth, I’m content but worried. I want to go back home, but I also enjoy spending time with others who share my love for literacy and knowledge. Plus, the scouts have discovered vending machines that provide FAR more in terms of food variance and miscellaneous items. In fact, some of the people living in Shakespeare have culinary backgrounds, so they’ve been able to really cook up some quality food that feels like a restaurant.
I guess what I’m saying is, what’s not to like?
New Entry: 18
This will be my last entry for now because everyone is worried about an imminent attack. Some of the scouts came back spewing tales of an amassed army of terrifying creatures coming our way. I’m not sure how they know where we are, or why the hierarchy thinks they’ll breach the door, but I haven’t the status to question their decisions.
Everyone is rushing around in an effort to be useful while I’m sitting here wondering if I made the right decision to join this community. Did it suck living on my own? Yes, but now my life is in someone else’s hands and I’m not sure if that brings me comfort or not. I suppose if I’m still alive after what may come, then destiny always planned for me to be here.
There’s a lot of commotion near the door now. Farewell and I hope to update you soon.
See Also
- Creepypasta: "The Cabin on Ridgewood Mountain"
- Creepypasta: "I Saw the End of the World and it was Terrifying"
- Creepypasta: "I Encountered Something Deadly on a Deep Space Mission"
- Creepypasta: "I Found Tommy The Train Engine in an Abandoned Sewer"
- Creepypasta: "The Penpal Series"