“Ah.” I rest a hand against the back of my neck. “A-Actually, this place doesn’t have running heaters anymore. The town has abandoned it.” I pause, then say, “Dress warmer next time.”
I glance over to the window once more, then rest my chin atop my palm. The world remains white, unsurprisingly so. I’ve always wished to know if the weather itself became an Anomaly, just like our people—or, if it is the day being stuck in this loop, that has resulted in such a climate. I recall the beginning, when I used to be ecstatic about the everlasting blizzard. No school. No work for my parents. An early start to hot chocolate season. It was like the world had stopped to give us a moment of peace.
Yet, it was in this kind of climate, too, that I had my last real conversation with my only family.
There were moments where I did waver back into the kitchen to talk to them, as one would talk to a plant. But there wasn’t ever a sign of them being able to hear me. Eventually, I stopped, then left them alone. Thinking back, now, I truly hope they aren’t aware of their surroundings. For that would mean they are conscious. And consciousness in such a situation, is not something I would wish upon anybody, ever.
“You don’t want to give up either, do you?” I glance up to the young man, a warm, expression of understanding has sunk into his features. I can tell it hasn’t been easy for him either—though, I do wonder why I’ve never seen him around before today.
“We don't get new faces often,” I add, with a hum. And he tenses. “Where are you from?” I’ve heard of so-called tourists sneaking in to visit this place before, only to never make it back to the other side afterward. Could he be one of them? From what I’ve gathered, this zone is the worst out of them all, with a tendency to swallow everything it comes into contact with, functioning like a black hole of some sorts.
The young man’s gaze shifts left, then right. He bites his lip. “I—”
Without warning, the library’s door shakes open. The bell’s sharp ring washes over the once-mute stillness of the room. The sound is soon followed by heavy footsteps. My hands go cold.
Goosebumps rise across my arms. “W-Who…”
“Hush!” the young man swiftly mutters, his voice full of panic and haste. “Get down!” As he rests his hand over my shoulder, he urges me to hide beneath the table, bringing us both down with him onto the floor.
I furrow my brows. “What’s going on—”
Yet, before I can finish my question, he hushes me again by placing a finger to my lips. “Be still. Please.” His words do not seem like a command I can afford to disobey, especially after hearing the heaviness that lurks in his voice.
The footsteps near, and the floorboards shriek under whoever's weight is currently crushing them. The echo of heavy boots eventually arrives near the stairs. A ball of nerves rises up my throat.
Beside me, the young man’s breaths have quickened. He grabs my hand, his sweat drips onto my dry skin, as he squeezes at my fingers, I notice he’s trembling.
I grip his hand back tighter, in hopes of snapping him out of panic’s clutches.
The creaking of old wood pauses.
We hear a few extra, distant steps for a couple more minutes, before the door closes once more, behind the shadow that had come into the library. Whatever that thing was, leaves us just as quickly as it arrived.
Still, something unsettles me beyond measure—the fact that the young man standing beside me fears the presence we’ve just faced. It is like he holds knowledge that I don’t about the situation.
A deep gasp escapes his lips. “S-sorry,” he blurts, whilst he tries to pull away. But I don't let him. I hold onto his wrist and force him to stay beside me.
He yelps. “You—”
“You know something,” I snap. I’ve been so thirsty for answers, and this seems closer to the truth than anything I’ve ever experienced before.
“I…” At my accusations, the young man remains speechless, as he turns his head away.
“Tell me what you’ve learned,” I say, through gritted teeth. “Please, I can’t help you fight this thing if I don’t even know what it is we’re up against. I need to understand.”
The young man stays silent. Another fly is zapped from inside the lightbulb hung on the library’s ground floor. My ally closes his eyes to the bleak sound of a dying buzz, then knits his brows together, as if remembering a terrible memory.
My throat tightens. What’s he trying to hide?
Eventually, he sighs. “I don't know. They say… that those creatures are the ones who freeze people, but… those are only short-lived myths. I had no way to confirm it. However, when I heard someone saw one, here, I got curious, and I wanted to check things out for myself, so—”
“So you decided to come here?” I cut him off. My gaze locks on to his, as the blood in my veins boils with rage, my face grows hot. “Do you think this is funny? Is this entertaining to you, what the people in my hometown are going through? I can’t believe you would voluntarily—”
“Stop.” A pained expression spreads across his face. “Stop it,” he mutters, as he shakes his head, his tone falls to a low, pained whisper. “You’ve no idea what I’ve been through. I may not come from around here—and we may not have had it as bad in my hometown, but…” he stares at me with a look of betrayal and disdain, “I’m no stranger to what’s going on in this town. I’ve seen it for myself, many times before.”
My eyes widen—considering every other place affected by these anomalies are located at quite the distance from here, he must've made his journey from very far away. I squint, then motion towards him. “Why…” Why would you do that?
Why on Earth would anybody do that?
This makes no sense.
My fingernails dig into my skin. “You—” My hand balls into a fist. “Are you working with that person who stopped by earlier? Tell me,” I say, as I try to make sense of the situation at hand; after all, I have no proof of his innocence. “Did you bring him here?”
His eyes widen. “N-no! You've got it all wrong!” The young man holds his hands up in the air. His words are desperate, a plea, as he rises to his feet and slams either of his palms down onto the table.
In his attempt to justify his actions, he does what I fear may bring our downfall—he raises his voice. “I only wished to—”
The library’s bell rings again. Except, this time, we both take shelter simultaneously on instinct, beneath the furniture. “Crap,” I mutter.
“Crap.” This can’t be good.
My ally and I huddle together in silence, until there is barely any space left between us. It is so quiet, that I can feel his pulse, beating rhythms of terror and agony into my shoulder.
The heavy footsteps return, thumping against the ancient wood as they stride towards the tunnel of books, where I had initially acquired my copy of ‘Time, and Other Theories’. The intruder taps his fingers against the books, in what I assume is his manner of counting them.
Slowly, he makes his way toward us.
I nudge the young man with my elbow, he’s still hunched over by my side. “How did you know he would be here?” I hiss. How could he possibly know, when I have been seeking this information for years?
What has been kept in the dark, away from me?
“I didn't know,” he tells me. “I swear, I was only traveling, and then I found—” We hear a book drop. Now, the footsteps rapidly advance toward us.
I freeze. A gasp escapes me. “We need to get out of here,” I say, while I observe the young man’s gaze darting around the room from left to right in a panicked frenzy. “Now!”
The young man’s hands tremble as they clutch mine once more. He leads me out, away from under our hiding place. “Follow me,” he mutters. The footsteps inch closer. My ally tugs at my arm; but in which direction he will take us, I cannot say yet. Like me—I’m sure he’s evaluating our options.
Jumping off the mezzanine would definitely leave us with at least one broken bone, however, the windows on our floor—as small as they may be—could still be a feasible plan: we'd arrive ground level with the town's port.
It's perfect, I think, as I motion to where they’re built, in between the crook of the floorboards, dug into pale brick walls. “Can you break the window?” I ask, whilst still keeping my voice as low, and as quiet as possible, even though I want to yell at him to hurry. Never have I been in so much of a rush in my life.
The young man grabs his jacket off a chair then puts it on. Without wasting any more time, he orders me to back away, before he lifts his foot then kicks down the window.
The shattering of glass releases a terrible screech, yet the sound of those footsteps nearing and accelerating even more, is enough for fear to burn away any apprehensions I’d held of leaving the building in such ways.
My ally allows me to leave first, as he chants the words, “Hurry, hurry,” I push against my hands that are now flat against the library’s aging wood. I attempt to haul myself out the window.
Pieces of glass catch onto my clothes, I cringe at the sight, but I don’t stop.
I continue to crawl out of the frame, thankful that I haven't gotten stuck yet, I scurry past transparent shards until I am out, standing the morning cold once more.
The fog is thick as a frozen breeze hits me, sending pinpricks crawling across my skin. I gently shake the glass off my clothes, it reflects across the snow.
I glance over my shoulder to check on my ally. He calls out to me, yells with all his might, but his pleas are quickly engulfed by the harsh, howling of the wind. It is then that I realize: something on the other side of the window holds his leg captive.
I watch in horror, whilst my ally attempts to kick his way to freedom, he holds onto anything he can find, shoveling the glass on the floor beside him back inside the library in an attempt to blind the monster that has seized his limbs.
It only takes a few seconds, before I can stand still no longer.
I run to him. “Don’t give up!” I scream the words as loud as my lungs allow me to, over the wind. “I’m getting you out!”
Once I’m close enough to grab him, I kneel. I lean forward, then attempt to haul my ally out, from beneath his shoulders. He’s scraped his hands; the injury can wait, but it would be good to bandage it up soon.
My ally bites his lip, I tug at his shoulders a little harder, in hopes that whoever is on the other side will finally let go. “Come on!” The young man continues to shove at the monster on the other side. “I’ve almost got you!” My throat aches. I cough as I do my best to keep him here, to keep him safe. “Come on!” I echo.
His reply comes as a grunt, as his gaze burns alight with hope, my ally kicks the monster with all his might one final time. I hear a loud clang, before the both of us are pulled back, into the snow and the outside world—he and I tumble to the ground.
Finally, his legs are freed.
My entire body aches, however, I’ve barely any time to even consider it. “Gods, what now—”
“Go!” he cries, without even taking a moment to appreciate his newly acquired freedom either. My ally’s features scrunch up, his eyes are wide, as he takes off in an adrenaline-filled frenzy, he shouts again. “Move! Now!”
The young man takes hold of my wrist. We run into the blizzard.
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