Just find a phone, and call mom. Just find a phone, and call mom. Those were the only thoughts that permeated Camilla’s mind as she walked. And those were the only thoughts that kept her going. Walking down the dirt path proved to be much more arduous than Camilla would’ve expected. Small, pointy rocks and uneven ground jabbed at her feet through her sneakers. She did her best to keep a fast pace, but all that was doing was tiring her out more.
Worse still, Camilla really had no idea how long she had been walking. The sky had been taken hostage by the storm clouds, so checking for a sunset or sunrise proved too difficult. The best she could guess on for time was “not-day.” It was much too dark out to be anything else. She wished so much that she had her phone, if not to call for help at least to check the time. Maybe knowing that would make her feel at least a bit less lost.
She walked, and walked, and walked, and walked. She was just on the verge of collapsing (partly from exhaustion, and partly from despair), when she found herself at the top of a small hill. She looked down through tired eyes. Sitting at the bottom of the hill, past a layer of fog, was a large stone building. Camilla could’ve cried. She hitched up her backpack and bolted towards the building.
The closer she got, the more she could see just how very large the building was. Tall, towering, and intimidating, the giant structure rose into the air quite proudly. It’s ominous, dark exterior contrasted with the flashing, purple clouds above head. A twinge of fear ran up Camilla’s back as she walked towards it. Thin towers accented the corners of the building. Narrow stained glass windows stared down at her like eyes. Camilla comforted herself with the fact that there was light coming out of them. Light meant people. She was a bit scared, but not as scared as she was about not getting back to her mom.
She walked up the few steps that led to a tall, wooden door. Two candle-lit lanterns hung on either side of the entrance. Camilla, hesitantly, reached for the door’s gold plated handle.
Sour, stale air flooded out as the door creaked open. Camilla was greeted with nothing but darkness as she stared into the building. She called a small “hello” out and only heard her echo come back. Camilla stepped in and the heavy door promptly shut behind her. She found herself in a dark, cramped room. Camilla feared for a moment that she might be trapped in some kind of closet, until she looked further ahead of her. She could now see that she was in fact, not in a small room, but a very short hallway. At the end of it stood a small flight of stairs illuminated by a light source from above. She walked over to it and began to climb, not knowing what to expect once she reached the top.
Her mouth dropped open.
Camilla had seen her fair share of libraries. Long weekends with her grandpa had brought her to small libraries at the end of the neighborhood with a laughable number of bookshelves and brown faded walls, and to giant, modern libraries in the middle of the city with floor upon floor of new books and elevators to take you to all of it. She had seen a number of great libraries, but everything was dwarfed by this.
Standing in front of her, or more so, above her, were number after number of colossal bookshelves. Each were filled to the absolute brim with scrolls and catalogs and paperbacks. Camilla could hardly see the top of the bookshelves, they reached so high. In front of the shelves lay an open section with rows of reading desks, each with a small lamp placed on them. Swirling staircases ascended into the higher levels of the building. Camilla stepped out onto the decorative tile of the floor and down a much less impressive, but still quite eye catching staircase. The circular study floor enclosed around her as she walked.
Now that Camilla had finished gawking she could see that the library was completely empty and very dark. The decorative lamps that stuck out from the walls were the only light source. She kept on through the isles of the study tables. The small lamps on each of them stood dark and still as well. Everything was leading to no one being here. But she looked in front of her and saw something that contradicted that. One of the small study lamps was still on. Even more so, there was still a book on the table, completely opened to one page.
Camilla’s hope of finding someone who could help immediately shot up, but she did still worry as she looked at the table closer. The lamp was still on, the book was left open, and the chair by it hadn’t been pushed in nicely, but left completely out and at a skewed angle. The whole station was in a bit of disarray. Whoever had left it like this was either very messy, or in a bit of a hurry. Camilla moved past it trying not to dwell. Her mind went back on its original track; just find a phone and call mom. Whether it was a late night reader or a security guard someone had to be here to help her.
As Camilla moved forward she began to get a clearer idea of just how big the library really was. The enormous bookcases made lengthy hallways that never seemed to end. She went up and over very short and sometimes very tall stair cases to reach different levels of the library. She even found herself passing through small balconies and elevated walkways. She followed the bookcases, the railings of the staircases, and the long carpets that all seemed to lead nowhere. The whole library was a maze of literature and fancy adornments.
How is this all fitting into one building? thought Camilla. She hadn’t really sized the outside of the building aside from noting that it was tall, but all this didn’t seem feasible. Maybe she hadn't looked close enough.
Camilla emerged from one of the bookcase-hallways onto another balcony. She traipsed over to it’s gilded railing. Placing her hand on the railing, she stopped to think. Just as she was questioning her next move, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to look downwards at one of the lower levels. Moving slowly across the tile floor, she could see a small beam of light.
A flashlight? Maybe a security guard? thought Camilla. Visions of the front of her house started filling her mind. She could practically see her mother standing on the front porch with her arms open wide, ready to welcome her home, and then scold her for being gone so long. She would welcome both or either of those things right now. The beam of light got closer and bigger. Camilla called out to the owner of the light, but her voice was too hoarse to travel at first (no doubt from being outside in the drizzle for so long) . She started waving her hands and prepared to yell again, louder this time. The owner of the flashlight stepped out of the bookcase-hallway.
Camilla choked up.
She stopped moving her arms.
She stopped completely.
Visions of a warm home and a happy mom disintegrated from her mind. All of her emotions disintegrated. She could feel her blood freeze over as her gaze remained glued downward.
It was true that the figure that emerged was holding a flashlight. But the flashlight was the only earthly thing about the creature. Wrapped around the torch wasn’t a hand, but a glowing, see through, spindly, otherworldly tentacle.
It led into the rest of the creature’s body. It’s elongated pill shaped torso glowed with the same translucent blue light as the rest of its limbs. It walked on the same kind of noodly appendages that it held its flashlight with, tentacles that tapered to thin points. Two tiny blinking lights swirled in the bulbous orb that made its head, like yellow fireflies. It used them to scan the floor.
It looked left and then right. And then up.
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