The Library Within the LibraryA Chapter by R.Z.M.
Chapter 2 THE LIBRARY WITHIN THE LIBRARY I honestly don’t remember falling asleep, yet I distinctly recall my head pounding as the alarm clock screamed its tiny lungs out. I groggily searched for the off button and finally found the small black thing. It took all the strength in my body to rise out of that warm bed into the cold, harsh world. After deciding not to splash water on my face, it was freezing enough, I looked into the frosted mirror that showed my image. My black hair was messed up; sticking up in such ways that I couldn’t even do with gel. I rubbed my eyes and struggled to make myself look as acceptable in this frigid world as was necessary. I was young in human years, only 27. Although I didn’t have the wrinkles some of my old friends had, I was covered in scars of every kind. Mental scars are worse than physical scars for those can easily be hidden or fade. Mental scars stay with you till you can’t take it any longer and reduce yourself into a puddle of whiskey and broken dreams. I had both. I’m quite lucky, huh? It was Levu was 15 yet in maturity he might as well been eleven. My friend always projected the thought that life was fun, why I’ll never know. Yet there he was, grinning his a*s off at me. I couldn’t help but smile back. “Why, in the name of Hell’s Fire, would you call me out here?” I yelled towards him as he made his way over by my side. Levu looked up at me and grinned, “I thought you might want to see this for yourself, rather than hear it from me.” I looked into those warm grey eyes, hoping to find a hint of what he’d planned. Those orbs gave nothing away. They never did. “Fine, as long as I don’t have to kill anyone or thing till five.” I said nonchalantly. He nodded once and made his way over to a building covered in snow. As we made our way towards the building I noticed the tips of frozen statues peeping through the white blanket. “Why would we be going to the library?” I wondered as we made our way up the granite steps leading to the entrance. It was hard to believe those rusted hinges held the key to the one person who meant anything anymore. As Levu opened the large mahogany doors, an even colder breeze swept from inside, chilling my very bones. He held the door open for me and smiled, “After you” the child said, damn that smile was getting annoying. I walked inside with an uneasy feeling in my gut, hand on gun incase one of the mystral were there. I heard a loud thud and turned quickly. Levu laughed at my nervousness. It took me awhile to realize it had just been the punk closing the door. Not wanting to admit my foolishness, I nodded my head, signaling him to lead the way. The library was as cold as death and just as silent. The stone columns rose all the way to the dark domed ceiling. Rows upon rows of books passed by as I followed Levu down this cold dungeon. I had not been to the library ever since I was ten, everything always seemed much bigger than it really was at that age. Even then I still felt insignificant here. Levu walked all the way to the back of the library. At the end was one large bookcase. He stopped abruptly, almost making me walk right into him. I opened my mouth in irritation when he reached out his hand. I watched as he took a book and slightly pulled it. Suddenly the floor started to quake. I pulled out my gun, fearing the worst. A harsh cracking sound caught my attention and I wheeled towards the noise. A tear in the stone floor began to grow in large veins. The splinters grew larger and larger, splitting the floor apart. Before I knew it the floor slid open, revealing a large gapping black hole in which I saw no end. I tried to run as the hole came towards us, spinning its way ever so quickly, but Levu had a different idea. He grabbed me by the shoulder and threw me in. The last thing I remember was seeing the name of the book he had pulled, in spidery, gold, faded words... Leahvelne. XXXX
© 2009 R.Z.M.Author's Note
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6 Reviews Added on March 5, 2009 Last Updated on March 5, 2009 AuthorR.Z.M.Snellville, GAAboutI believe there is fact in the fiction. The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can .. more..Writing
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