I forced myself to move. Then the whisper came again. Not sure if it's coming from the entity or the place itself. Not words. Just a rasp dragging across the air, vibrating through the shelves.
I ducked behind a shelf and pressed my back against the wood, praying it would not see me. The whisper grew louder. My eyes tracked the curved walkway ahead. A shadow bled across the lantern light, stretching thin, bending wrong, as if the library grabbed it and pulled it apart.
I bolted. Not knowing where to go. And kept running.
Then I saw it... again? Crouched between two leaning shelves. Its sharp and cold eyes—if they were eyes... Caught the dim light and fractured it, like broken glass staring back.
My stomach flipped. "Fuck me."
Or another?
I stumbled, knocking over a pile of books. They hit the floor and the sound reverberated through the aisles. The thing twitched. It was closer now. I didn't think. I ran. Faster. Harder. Who wouldn't?
I focused on the only rule that mattered: Survive. Ignore the rest.
I bit down on the noise trying to escape my throat.
Think. Think. THINK.
I looked around. My eyes darting along rows and stairways and balconies. The shelves shifted faintly, bending. I needed higher ground. Or somewhere its less fucked up. Somewhere its field warped less. The nearest spiral staircase wasn't stable. But farther ahead, half-hidden behind a curved row of shelves, was another staircase. Its shape looked steady and solid. I took a step toward it. Behind me, the whispering sharpened.
If I looked, I'd panic.
If I panicked, I'd run.
If I ran—
Dead.
Am I even making sense? I don't know anymore. Wait. I might be thinking of a bear.
All I know, it was getting closer. With the creature breathing down my spine, I acted immediately. I spotted a jutting shelf across. Close enough to reach if I didn't think to hard. I grabbed the guard railing, hauled myself over it.
The moment my foot stepped forward, the world gave way beneath me. It was like reaching for a step that should have been there but finds nothing. That split second, my body interpreted the weightless panic as death. My stomach lurched. My brain blanked. For that second I didn't exist anywhere.
Then my foot hit solid ground.
But my body didn't accept it. My balance snapped, inner ear spun like someone had reached inside and twisted it. The world strobed sideways. My legs buckled. My vision lurched in slow, nauseating tilts.
And instead of falling, I suddenly found myself plastered vertically against the wall. My feet clung to the surface as if that had always been. I couldn't tell if I was standing upright on a wall or if the wall had quietly rotated itself beneath me. Either way, nothing made sense.
I sucked in a mouthful of air and blinked hard, trying to anchor myself. I kept repeating to myself the platform beneath me was real. I wasn't sure if I was climbing along a wall or crawling on it that had tilted upright, but I moved anyway. My hands dragged me forward. I scraped along until my fingers found a ledge.
So I jumped.
No plan. Not knowing what comes next. Just jumped. Fully trusting my raw instinct and the stupid hope that it would somehow work. Illogical? Obviously. I had no idea where I'd land. Could've fallen three stories. Could've fallen more. Could've died.
But I jumped anyway.
Instead, I was safe. Hit with that same sickening sensation again. But safe nonetheless. Hesitation? Fuck no. If any sane person was in my situation, running from whatever the hell that thing was. They would do the same... I think so?
Given my current state, I couldn't tell if I wanted to laugh or throw up.
I straightened up, forcing my legs to move.
"Okay," I muttered under my breath. "That worked… somehow."
I pushed forward, shaky but manageable, deeper into the stacks.
The relief lasted less than a minute.
A shadow lunged across the shelves. Something grabbed me. Pain ripped through my chest. Then it dragged me backward. I threw my weight forward, fought hard, but it didn't matter. Whatever had me was impossible to resist.
My breathing tightened. Slowly. Cruelly. As if it had wrapped around my throat and started to squeeze.
"Shit—no—no, no—"
My fingers brushed on something. I snatched it and hurled the book to it.
Then another.
Then another.
Each throw felt worse. Like my brain was screaming, Stop provoking it you idiot, but my hands kept moving on their own. The shelf emptied in seconds. Wood scraped under my nails as I reached for a book that wasn't there.
And then—
Silence. Not real silence.
A pause.
The creature didn't move. It just…stopped. Its clutch loosened. The pressure in the air eased. The grip that had pressed against my chest, twisted my limbs, and warped the space around me pulled back, was gone.
And just like that, it turned without a glance nor interest anymore. It slid between two shelves and vanished, as if I'd never been there at all. I stayed frozen, arms half-raised, surrounded by books scattered across the floor.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears.
I pressed a hand to my chest. No blood.
"…The hell?"
It didn't leave because I scared it. It didn't leave because I fought back. Like it left because something else—something bigger—had caught its attention. And suddenly, being ignored felt worse than being hunted. Other than that, a huge relief finally washed over me.
It took a while before my legs remembered how to work. Minutes? Hours? No idea. Time felt like it'd been wrung out and tossed aside.
When strength finally trickled back in, I pushed myself up, hand on a shelf, breath still shaking. All I had to do was walk out. Straight line. Simple. Except every turn I took led me somewhere I didn't mean to be.
Left—dead end.
Right—staircase that leads to god knows what.
Straight—came back to the same damn aisle I started from.
I wasn't panicking. Not really. Just… recalibrating. Again.
And again.
And again.
Each time I told myself this must be the exit, only to be slapped by another one. The worst part of all these? The constant prickling at the back of my neck, like someone's nail brushing against the skin. I didn't dare to look over my shoulder. Heck, even the mere of thought of it scares me.
If I do... I better not say it. No. By the fourth loop, my jaw started to hurt from all the clenching. At the fifth, I stopped bothering to guess. And then—I was on the ceiling, crawling, still unable to adjust. I could only inch forward. Out of the corner of my eye, a chandelier swung beside me. Its crystals clinked faintly as I passed.
Again. Climbing or crawling?
I dragged both hands down my face and whispered, "Great… hmmmmmmmph!"suppressing the scream down my throat.
By the sixth turn, something in me snapped. The pure, fed-up resignation finally fell over me.
I stopped, exhaled through the two holes of my nose, and took off my uniform jacket. The cold air hit my skin. Whatever. I pulled my shirt over my head. Afterward, turned both my jacket and shirt inside out. I slipped the shirt back on, tugged the uniform into place, and muttered, "Alright. They say this works. So it must work."
Then I froze. "Wait… was it inside out? Or do I turn them around? Oh, well."
Then I picked a direction. And walked. Left turn. Straight hall. Another staircase. Nothing tried to peel my spine out. Good enough.
I stopped for a moment.
A sharp crack rang out, followed by a familiar sound that made my stomach drop. I knew that sound. The creature.
My heart almost sunk. For a moment, my body wanted to turn back around and fold itself into a ball. But another crash tore through the corridor, and something in me moved before I could think. Probably my heart.
I pressed my back to the wall and edged forward, peeking around the corner. Someone was fighting.
Was that a person?
Wait, am I imagining things?
She wasn't using spells or flashy magic. Nothing supernatural to make it look easy. Pure grit, footwork, and a weapon that looked far too small for the creature she was up against.
Oh, wait. I completely forgot the world I exist in.
She ducked under one of the creature's limbs, twisting her body precisely. The creature's shadowy torso warped, responding to each movement. She struck a clean, sharp, efficient hit. Her blade dug into its side. Scattering tendrils of god knows what dark things that twisted like wounded snakes before recoiling back into its body.
The creature roared. A sound that vibrated in my teeth.
She didn't flinch.
I did.
Her heel slid back a step, boots scraping, stance tightening. She drove forward again with a cry, steel flashing as she ripped another gash through its torso. I stood there uselessly, gripping the wall, watching her fight the nightmare that had nearly taken me minutes ago.
Her blade carved another arc through the air. The creature lurched—not retreating, just repositioning, limbs whipping around her. She dodged by a hair, landing hard on one knee.
My breath snagged.
She was good… but she was getting tired.
And that thing didn't get tired.