A large gob of dark, slimy saliva dripped from the creature’s teeth down Jonah’s cheek. Breathing heavily as its nails sliced through the metal around Jonah’s arms and side. The pale blue eyes unrelenting against Jonah’s flesh. He was sure the creature was going to bite down on his head and that would be the end, yet, it didn’t. It just froze there, dripping grime from its mouth.
“Jonah,” it hissed again.
Jonah couldn’t understand; if the creature wanted him dead and was looking directly at him, why was it not attacking? It slithered and crawled around him nearly piercing his arms as it did. Jonah thought he understood. The creature, even though it had bright pale eyes, couldn’t see. He thought about it. When he was in the room it only attacked him when he spoke and every other time he made noise. Reaching into his pocket, he slowly lifted the keys given to him by Gretchen. Slowly sinking to his knees without making a sound, he gripped the keys tightly and held his breath. He Frisbeed the keys out into the darkness where they bounced off the metal shelving before cracking into the wooden doors on the other side of the archives. He closed his eyes and prayed he was right. The creature jumped off the wall, tearing into the carpet and ran wildly into the darkness. Jonah quietly but quickly stood up and felt the metal door. The creature’s nails had dug so deep into the door that he could see through to the spiral staircase on the other side. He figured if he hit the door hard enough it would break loose from the frame and he would be out.
Yet he knew the moment he started to make noise the creature would hear, and he would certainly be shredded this time. He guessed that if he ran at full speed and struck the door it would it would be only one sound for the creature to respond to; by the time it scurried over to his spot he would be half way up the stairs where he could find more places to hide and possibly a way out. Clenching his fist, he wished there was another option. Slowly creeping forward, he tucked Samson’s book into the back of his pants through his belt. He crawled a decent way away from the door. He turned and assumed the position of a track and field runner, ready to sprint. He stopped and listened. The creature was still rattling on the shelves, hissing in frustration. He knew it was now or never. He lowered his head and took off, kicking up his feet through the mangled carpet. The pattering of his feet alerted the creature and the familiar sound of its nails slashing against the wood and metal returned. Jonah tucked his head in and thrust as hard as he could at the door.
His shoulder met the door frame, letting off several loud cracks. One from Jonah’s shoulder that he was certain had dislocated it, the other from the frame. The door creaked slowly off its hinges, leaning partially into the hall. There it remained, like a lose tooth wanting to fall out, yet still clinging to the gum. The opening he had managed to achieve with the blow could barely fit a child. Without thinking, he began to crawl through. The monster’s arrival was quickly approaching, as Jonah could hear the carpet fibers tearing so deep that the concrete underneath was getting scratched. Wedging himself in the opening, he could feel himself starting to get stuck. He writhed back and forth, trying to loosen the door’s grip on him, but it was no use, he would surely be killed. He leaned all of his weight on the hinge. He could again feel the creature’s breath as it leaped to the wall, grinding it way towards him. The hinge cried and he could feel it starting to buckle against his attack. He pushed harder against the metal, relentlessly peeling away at the sharp shards the creature had created. He could feel the pale blue eyes right on him and pushed even harder. As soon as he felt there was no hope, the hinge gave way, and Jonah tumbled into the hallway. Without a second thought, he sprang to his feet and slammed the door closed, directly on the creature’s hand. It let out a shrill hiss and thrashed at the door, easily cutting through the metal like a block of cheese. Jonah knew the door was not going to hold it for long and he had no intention of seeing when it came out. He ran. Turning up the stairs, he ran carelessly, tripping over his own feet at every turn of the spiral. He made to the top of the stairs. The library was empty, the doors were locked, and lights were off. He found it strange. Not strange that they closed the library, but strange that Gretchen had not gone to look for him. She knew he was down there and yet she opted to close the library without looking for him.
The moon was full and cast a sinister glow throughout the shelves. He could hear the creature downstairs, gnawing and hissing as it tore through the door. It would be on him soon yet again. He rushed to the doors, yanking violently on their handles, trying to break them open. He then remembered Gracie’s keys and fiddled around for them before remembering he had thrown them down in the basement. He was doubly disappointed when he reached for his phone and realized it too was also down in the basement. He heard the loud crash of the door falling off its hinges and the terrifying scratching of the creature’s nails as it climbed up the spiral staircase. He looked around for a place to hide. Seeing the main circulation desk, he guessed he could hide there and possibly make a call. To who he was not sure.
Quickly he jumped the counter and hid under the desk, tucking his legs against his chest. He could hear the creature claw to the top, hissing and moaning, creating small clicks against the tile as it continued its search for him. Jonah reached for the land line and began to dial 911. As he removed the handset and placed the phone to his ear his heart sank. There was no dial tone on the other end of the phone, just blank static.
“When the power shut off, the phone line must have been damaged too,” he thought
The only way he considered that might happen is if someone tampered with everything, which did make much sense unless they were after him. He reluctantly admitted to himself that Samson’s story was starting to make sense.
The continuous clicking and grinding of the nails as the creature hissed and snarled through the shelves looking for him made him want to scream. The creature had traveled far through the shelves knocking over books as it went. Its anger emitted through its long deep hisses and gargles. Jonah knew his current hiding spot like the ones downstairs, was only temporary and soon he would have to find another one. His heart sank. If the library was completely shut down, then where was Ashlyn? Either she fell prey to one of the creatures herself or she too was clinging to life in her own hiding spot.
The grinding and clicking seceded and the library fell completely silent. Jonah waited for it start again, assuming the beast was trying to hear him as it had done in the archive room. He did his best to make himself exceptionally small, tucking his chin down on his already tucked knees without a sound. Like a clap of thunder in a soft rainstorm the creature claws rang out again, this time in a crashing sound as it bounded over several stacks of books. It landed hard on the title floor screeching and turning as it ran back to the stairs, tumbling down as it made its way back to the archives. Jonah realized this was his chance to move. He shot up from his hiding place and began frantically looking for a fire axe. When the endeavor turned futile, he leapt over the counter, darting through the shelves for an open window. After the third window he stopped.
“Ashlyn,” he whispered to himself.
He looked over the sea of shelves. Perhaps she left the library when it closed. But her conviction to Samson’s story made Jonah unconvinced she would leave. So, if she was still here, then she would be convinced that he was still trapped in the archives, and if that was the case… He made his way back to the stairs. He knew that if that animal got a whiff of another person it would murder them on the spot.
He glided over the tile as softly as he could. The blood from his head wound was slowly clotting, giving his temple a small pounding that distracted him from hearing the creature. He made it back to the stairs and peered down into the abyss. The slow hissing of the creature’s teeth echoed up from the tunnel. He was as relieved as one could be in the situation he was in. The familiar hissing suggested that it was not in the process of devouring another person. His joy was quickly dashed, as he was certain that the hiss he was hearing was not an echo but another hiss. As he continued to listen the hisses grew. Two, three, four, soon it was a chorus of hissing and snarling making the stairs sound as if they led into hell itself.
He turned back to the sea of bookshelves. At the far end of the room he just barely spotted two silver metallic doors that he recognized instantly as an elevator bay. He wanted to run but knowing the creatures thrived on sound, decided that speed was not his friend. As he moved back to the tile the hissing continued to grow but was coupled with the familiar scratching of the nails dragging against the stairs. The sound of the nails echoed through the stairs like a thunderstorm of shrapnel. Jonah bit his lip so as not to scream. If one of those creatures was a monster incapable of being handled, then a slew of them was certain death. The clatter of nails grew stronger as Jonah realized his time being quiet was no longer. He picked up his feet, pushing through the shelves, feeling like they were closing in with every step. The clatter grew louder, grinding and gargling up the stairs.
Jonah had reached the elevators bay, slamming his hand against the button. The clatter was garbled together with the hissing and gnarling. Jonah could hear the nails meet the tile. He refused to turn for fear of freezing out of sheer terror. Slamming his finger violently against button he breathed another prayer, the most he had prayed in years. The bright light of the elevator and the soft ding was like angels stepping down from heaven to save him. Rushing into the elevator he slammed the “3” and hugged the back bar like it was only sold structure in the storm. As the doors began to close, he heard the clatter of the nails pick up as the creatures rushed the elevator. He closed his eyes, praying for the attack to be brief and painless. The doors cemented shut as the sound of slicing against the metal reverberated down into Jonah’s bones.
The sound of the clattering and hissing began to die as the elevator rose up through the floors. Jonah held his breath. He knew he had bought himself more time and now he had a greater distance between himself and the creatures. Trying to pull himself together, he guessed there was likely a sky light or fire escape something he could use to leave the building. The elevator dinged and the doors opened out onto the third floor of the library. He let go of the bar with much effort, as his arm was shaking uncontrollably. As he stepped out of the elevator, he saw the slash markings in the metal of the door, digging deep, traveling down the door.
The third floor was more open than the first floor. A few shelves for books, but mostly it was full of small carved little wooden cubicles organized around the entire perimeter of the floor. It was also home to a handful of study room and few small round tables designed for brief meetings spread throughout the area. In the center was a lounge section of armchairs and benches with a coffee table in the middle filled with mismatched books of different genres to encourage whoever was sitting there to grab a copy. He noticed across the room, where the spiral staircase’s orifice opened out on to the floor, several small cubicles had been dragged and stacked on top of each other, creating a poorly makeshift wall.
His heart jumped as it was likely Ashlyn had dragged the cubicles after seeing or hearing the creatures on the first floor. He looked around the room again to see if he could tell where she was hiding. Even though the room was quite open, the number of cubicles and study rooms offered one a lot of places to hide. He considered shouting out, letting her know he was there, but that might alert the fiends to their whereabouts. He needed to know if she was there though. He held his breath and breathed out the loudest whisper he could.
“Ashlyn? Are you here?”
Silence followed. He slowly crept to center of the room, looking around at the study room seeing one that said “Trout.” Remembering that “Trout” was the room that Samson had suggested Ashlyn go to, he considered this was likely her hiding spot. He slowly crept toward the room, doing his best to keep all sounds to the lowest they could possibly be. He placed his hand on the door and with a slow push he made his way into the room. It was a small room, no bigger than a phone booth. The desk was cemented against the wall with a small lamp affixed to the side of the desk. He could not make out the space under the desk, yet it seemed too cluttered for the chair to fit under.
He leaned his head under the desk, before he could react, he was struck in face by flat object and tumbled backward through the door onto the carpet. He was worried it was the creatures, back for more, when the familiar shape of Ashlyn’s highlighted head emerged above him. She clutched her arms around his neck, squeezing tighter through the sobs.
“Jonah! I thought you were dead! I heard the slashing and gnarling, and I feared the worst!” She sobbed against him.
He slowly pushed her off, pulling both of them back into the small room. He removed his glasses, noticing a long crack had formed on the right lens. He sighed and showed them to Ashlyn.
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
Before Jonah could answer he and Ashlyn both heard the clatter again. This time it was climbing up the spiral staircase.
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