Walking into the Library for the first time in 2020 feels like I am finally making peace with my quiet haven.
!
I used to be a regular here, until the strange deaths began. The community started recording deaths of People who died mysteriously after leaving the library.
A lot of things look different from the last time I was here. Fewer people, more books.
Walking to my perfect corner, the end of the library where people rarely sit, I wonder what book to read since I didn't make plans before the visit.
"Read me!" rings repeatedly in the air.
At first, it sounds like it's just in my head but, the voice continues chanting in my ears until I eventually trace it to a large book sitting alone on a shelf.
THE MYSTERY BOOK OF NO RETURN
The title of the book sends chills down my spine but the force attracting me to the book is way more than the law of gravity.
I carry the book to my usual corner, Opening as gently as I can. The pages of the book are almost empty except for a short poem...
*Your home is now our home*,
*Your dreams now ours to live*
*Your breathe now ours to take*
*You will become like us*
No more words, no drawings, nothing.
I hiss, slam it close, and walk back home discouraged and bothered by the lines.
I open the door to my room and it looks different from how I left it. The position of the bed and every other thing has been changed. There is an inscription on the wall.
Your home is now our home
I try to rush back out but the door is somehow locked now.
Then it becomes clearer, I am not alone in the room. Twelve other people are sitting at various corners of my room with bloodstains on their clothes. I am the only one who seems alive and without any bloodstains.
Instantly, the last line of the poem comes flooding my head
You will become like us
The atmosphere metamorphoses back into the library.
"Young lady, it is time for us to close the library."
The librarian taps me into reality.
This is when I realize that I slept off while reading How to sleep by Ann Arborn.
This story is previously published on Arkore writes