When they reached the library, they ducked behind a row of bookshelves, their breath shallow. Suddenly, another figure darted past them—Melody. She ran to the next shelf, her eyes wide with terror, not yet noticing Valmet and Steven. They crouched lower, waiting, listening, the tension thick enough to suffocate them.

The library was bathed in the soft glow of old, yellowed lights, their flickering creating ghostly shadows that stretched along the towering bookshelves. The musty smell of worn paper hung thick in the air, and the silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of a wooden chair or the faint rustle of pages stirred by a draft.

Valmet’s heart raced, the adrenaline from their dash down the darkened hallway still pumping in her veins. She crouched behind one of the towering shelves, hidden in the narrow gap between two rows of dusty books. Beside her, Steven was hunched low, his face pale, eyes wide with fear. His breath came in shallow gasps as he peered nervously around the edge of the shelf.

A few feet away, Melody had just ducked behind the next row of books, her movements quick and panicked. She hadn't spotted them yet, but her wide, darting eyes told Valmet everything she needed to know—Melody had heard the screams too. Something was very, very wrong.

Valmet shifted slightly, trying to quiet her racing thoughts. There was a strange chill in the air, like a gust of wind from an open window, but there were no windows open. It felt unnatural, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, making you shiver despite the lack of breeze. She glanced at Steven, who was hugging his knees to his chest, his knuckles white from gripping his own legs.

“Steven,” Valmet whispered, her voice barely audible. She touched his arm gently, trying to ground herself in the moment. “We have to stay calm.”

Steven nodded, but his face was still etched with terror. “What... what the hell is going on, Val?” His voice trembled, barely a whisper. “That thing we saw, the lights, the screaming... What if it’s still out there?”

Valmet didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t sure she could. All she knew was that whatever they’d seen back in the alley—whatever had almost caught them—felt like it was still close. Too close. Her eyes flicked towards the entrance to the library. The heavy wooden doors were closed, but in the dim light, they looked impossibly far away.

There was a sudden, soft creak above them, like wood bending under pressure. Valmet stiffened. The sound wasn’t loud, but it felt wrong—out of place, like it didn’t belong in the quiet of the library. Slowly, her eyes drifted upward toward the ceiling beams.

Nothing.

Just the darkened rafters, their wooden frames casting long, angular shadows that crisscrossed above. But the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, gnawed at her gut.

“Did you hear that?” Steven whispered, his voice so thin it was almost swallowed by the silence.

Valmet nodded slowly. She felt her muscles tense up as another wave of cold washed over them, this one more pronounced, more deliberate. It was like the temperature was dropping, degree by degree, and she swore she could see a faint mist swirling near the floor.

A book suddenly fell from one of the upper shelves, landing with a heavy thud right next to Melody. She gasped, jumping back, her eyes wide and panicked as she stared at the book, then frantically glanced around as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows.

Valmet's pulse quickened. "Stay still," she mouthed to Steven, gesturing for him to remain crouched. Melody, however, was losing her composure fast. Her breathing was quick, erratic, and her eyes were wide with fear as she edged backward, deeper into the rows of shelves.

"Mel," Valmet whispered sharply, trying to keep her voice low. "Calm down. It's just a book."

Melody didn’t respond, her back pressed against the shelf, hands trembling as they clutched her phone. Valmet watched her, waiting for a sign that she'd pull it together. But the tension in the room was unbearable, a palpable force that seemed to press in from all sides.

Steven shifted beside Valmet, his eyes darting nervously toward the towering rows of books. "We need to get out of here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Now."

Valmet’s heart was pounding. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but something held her back. Her gaze drifted up to the book that had fallen. It wasn’t random. It was as though something—no, someone—had knocked it loose deliberately. Her stomach churned as she squinted at the spine. There was something strange about the way it had landed, its cover slightly open as if inviting them to read.

She stepped forward, against her better judgment, and picked it up. The title read, The Forgotten History of Emerald City by Huebert Spellweaver.

Her hands trembled as she opened the book, the pages old and yellowed, their corners crumbling to dust. Flipping through the first few pages, she stopped on an illustration—a detailed drawing of a figure standing over a battlefield, its head severed and held in its own hands. The caption beneath it read: The Cursed Ones of the Rift War.

Valmet’s blood ran cold. She stared at the figure, her fingers tightening on the page. The same eerie chill that had been hovering in the air suddenly felt like it was sinking into her bones, freezing her from the inside out.

“What is that?” Steven asked, leaning closer, his voice tense with dread.

“I don’t know,” Valmet whispered, her eyes glued to the page. "But I think it has something to do with what we saw... maybe something that wasn't supposed to be here."

Suddenly, the lights flickered overhead again, plunging the library into momentary darkness. When they came back on, a soft, scraping sound echoed through the room—a slow, deliberate dragging noise, like claws being drawn across wood.

Valmet froze, her breath catching in her throat. The sound was coming from behind the far row of bookshelves, just a few feet away. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to send a jolt of terror through her.

Steven grabbed her arm, his grip tight. “Valmet, we need to go—now.”

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest, but before they could move, the sound stopped. The silence that followed was even worse than the noise, thick and suffocating, as if the library itself were holding its breath.

Suddenly, Melody gasped, her voice trembling. “Guys... I think something’s in here with us.”

Valmet’s eyes darted to the far corner of the library, where the shadows seemed darker, heavier, almost tangible. Something was there—watching, waiting.

The library was bathed in the soft glow of old, yellowed lights, their flickering creating ghostly shadows that stretched along the towering bookshelves. The musty smell of worn paper hung thick in the air, and the silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of a wooden chair or the faint rustle of pages stirred by a draft.

Valmet’s heart raced, the adrenaline from their dash down the darkened hallway still pumping in her veins. She crouched behind one of the towering shelves, hidden in the narrow gap between two rows of dusty books. Beside her, Steven was hunched low, his face pale, eyes wide with fear. His breath came in shallow gasps as he peered nervously around the edge of the shelf.

A few feet away, Melody had just ducked behind the next row of books, her movements quick and panicked. She hadn't spotted them yet, but her wide, darting eyes told Valmet everything she needed to know—Melody had heard the screams too. Something was very, very wrong.

“What’s in that book?” Melody asked, her voice quivering as she shifted from foot to foot, eyeing the darker corners of the library. Valmet didn’t want to tell her, didn’t want to add to the growing dread. Instead, she hesitated, torn between the thrill of discovery and the gnawing feeling that some knowledge was better left undiscovered.

“Just… some old history,” Valmet said, forcing a casual tone. “Nothing we don’t already know.”

Valmet shifted slightly, trying to quiet her racing thoughts. There was a strange chill in the air, like a gust of wind from an open window, but there were no windows open. It felt unnatural, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, making you shiver despite the lack of breeze. She glanced at Steven, who was hugging his knees to his chest, his knuckles white from gripping his own legs.

“Steven,” Valmet whispered, her voice barely audible. She touched his arm gently, trying to ground herself in the moment. “We have to stay calm.”

Steven nodded, but his face was still etched with terror. “What... what the hell is going on, Val?” His voice trembled, barely a whisper. “That thing we saw, the lights, the screaming... What if it’s still out there?”

Valmet didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t sure she could. All she knew was that whatever they’d seen back in the alley—whatever had almost caught them—felt like it was still close. Too close. Her eyes flicked towards the entrance to the library. The heavy wooden doors were closed, but in the dim light, they looked impossibly far away.

There was a sudden, soft creak above them, like wood bending under pressure. Valmet stiffened. The sound wasn’t loud, but it felt wrong—out of place, like it didn’t belong in the quiet of the library. Slowly, her eyes drifted upward toward the ceiling beams.

Nothing.

Just the darkened rafters, their wooden frames casting long, angular shadows that crisscrossed above. But the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just out of sight, gnawed at her gut.

“Did you hear that?” Steven whispered, his voice so thin it was almost swallowed by the silence.

Valmet nodded slowly. She felt her muscles tense up as another wave of cold washed over them, this one more pronounced, more deliberate. It was like the temperature was dropping, degree by degree, and she swore she could see a faint mist swirling near the floor.

A book suddenly fell from one of the upper shelves, landing with a heavy thud right next to Melody. She gasped, jumping back, her eyes wide and panicked as she stared at the book, then frantically glanced around as if expecting something to emerge from the shadows.

Valmet's pulse quickened. "Stay still," she mouthed to Steven, gesturing for him to remain crouched. Melody, however, was losing her composure fast. Her breathing was quick, erratic, and her eyes were wide with fear as she edged backward, deeper into the rows of shelves.

"Mel," Valmet whispered sharply, trying to keep her voice low. "Calm down. It's just a book."

Melody didn’t respond, her back pressed against the shelf, hands trembling as they clutched her phone. Valmet watched her, waiting for a sign that she'd pull it together. But the tension in the room was unbearable, a palpable force that seemed to press in from all sides.

Steven shifted beside Valmet, his eyes darting nervously toward the towering rows of books. "We need to get out of here," he whispered, his voice shaking. "Now."

Valmet’s heart was pounding. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but something held her back. Her gaze drifted up to the book that had fallen. It wasn’t random. It was as though something—no, someone—had knocked it loose deliberately. Her stomach churned as she squinted at the spine. There was something strange about the way it had landed, its cover slightly open as if inviting them to read.

She stepped forward, against her better judgment, and picked it up. The title read, The Forgotten History of Emerald City.

Her hands trembled as she opened the book, the pages old and yellowed, their corners crumbling to dust. Flipping through the first few pages, she stopped on an illustration—a detailed drawing of a figure standing over a battlefield, its head severed and held in its own hands. The caption beneath it read: The Cursed Ones of the Rift War.

Valmet’s blood ran cold. She stared at the figure, her fingers tightening on the page. The same eerie chill that had been hovering in the air suddenly felt like it was sinking into her bones, freezing her from the inside out.

“What is that?” Steven asked, leaning closer, his voice tense with dread.

“I don’t know,” Valmet whispered, her eyes glued to the page. "But I think it has something to do with what we saw... maybe something that wasn't supposed to be here."

Suddenly, the lights flickered overhead again, plunging the library into momentary darkness. When they came back on, a soft, scraping sound echoed through the room—a slow, deliberate dragging noise, like claws being drawn across wood.

Valmet froze, her breath catching in her throat. The sound was coming from behind the far row of bookshelves, just a few feet away. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to send a jolt of terror through her.

Steven grabbed her arm, his grip tight. “Valmet, we need to go—now.”

She nodded, her heart pounding in her chest, but before they could move, the sound stopped. The silence that followed was even worse than the noise, thick and suffocating, as if the library itself were holding its breath.

Suddenly, Melody gasped, her voice trembling. “Guys... I think something’s in here with us.”

Valmet’s eyes darted to the far corner of the library, where the shadows seemed darker, heavier, almost tangible. Something was there—watching, waiting.

“Stay close,” she murmured, the fear gripping her heart. “We need to find a way out.”

As they huddled together, the oppressive atmosphere grew thicker. The shadows twisted around them, wrapping them in a cocoon of foreboding. They edged deeper into the library, each step heavy with the weight of unspoken dread, knowing that whatever was lurking in the darkness was not done with them yet.