Happy Birthday, Sky!!!! I hope you have a fantastic day filled with excitement and wonder :D
Thanks for being my best friend, I couldn't have asked for a better one!
*hands her cake and ice cream*
The knife was slick with crimson, shining in the dull light.
Sally stared at it, at the blood that coated her arms and hands. She looked down at the bodies lying at her feet.
Harry. Her mother. Bram. All staring sightlessly ahead. Bram's eyes were boring into hers.
She wanted to scream, to cry, to rage, but she didn't. Couldn't. She just stood there.
A deep chuckle echoed around her and the bodies before her were gone, drowned by ink.
She looked down and saw that her arms were covered in swirling, black symbols.
*
She woke in her bed, her hair damp with sweat.
That was the third time she'd had that nightmare in a month. She climbed out of bed and made her way to the bathroom.
Sleep still clouded her eyes and she turned the faucet on and leaned her head down, splashing the cool water over her face, washing the sleep from her eyes.
She turned the water off and reached for a towel to wipe it from her eyes. When she raised her head and met her eyes in the mirror, she clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming.
She leaned in, looking closely at her reflection, which seemed to have returned to normal. She sagged with relief. For a moment there, she thought she was seeing things.
For a moment, her eyes had been black.
* * *
Bram stood in awe as his vision cleared and he got his first good look at the Catalogs. They were row upon row of scrolls that glowed with a calming blue light.
He followed Slim and the Old Man deeper into the stacks, helpless to keep his eyes from examining each and every scroll as they passed by.
The scrolls seemed to react to their presence, glowing brighter as they approached, then dimming again once they'd passed.
"Does it go on forever?" He asked, his voice echoing around them.
Slim chuckled. "Not forever, no, but close enough."
Bram followed them deeper into the labyrinth until they reached a pedestal in the center of four intersecting corridors, each one as never-ending as the next.
The Old Man approached the pedestal while Bram and Slim stopped a respectful distance away.
"What's that?" Bram asked, he'd never been so deep into the Library, and was drinking in everything he could.
"It's one of the many Tomes," Slim answered in the same hushed tone Bram had used. "It contains most of the knowledge of the Library."
"The Tomes?" Bram asked.
"Yes," Slim replied. "The Tomes, while not actually books, are a compendium of all the knowledge we, as Librarians, have collected throughout the centuries."
"So each Tome contains a certain section?"
"Correct," Slim answered.
"Will you two shut up?" The Old Man threw over his shoulder, not bothering to look back at them.
"Sorry," they replied in unison and both watched with interest as the Old Man looked through numerous symbols, some which Bram recognized, while others he didn't. He was honest enough with himself to admit that a majority of them fell into the latter category.
He wasn't sure how long they stood there, the silence that surrounded them was almost a physical force, threatening to crush them. The only thing keeping the wave back was the occasional click or sigh from the pedestal.
Not for the first time, he wondered how old they were. The history of the Library had long been hidden, and only the Librarians truly know it's secrets.
The Old Man suddenly gasped, dragging Bram from his thoughts as the man stumbled away from the pedestal, ashen.
"What's wrong?" He asked at the same time as Slim as they both rushed forward, but the Old Man waved them away.
"I'm fine," he said. "It's been a while since I've read one of the Tomes."
"What did it say?" Bram asked, unconsciously leaning a little closer in anticipation.
The Old Man looked at him, his face a mix of concern and pity. "The Naruughe."
"The... the what?" He asked.
"The Naruughe," the Old Man repeated. "Is a creature that was locked within the pages of a book a very long time ago; before the Library came to be."
Bram's eyes widened. "What is it?"
"No one knows," the Old Man answered.
"I thought it was a myth," Slim said. "You're telling me that the Cela are real?"
"Wait, the Cela Cela?" Bram repeated. "Those things have been extinct for centuries!"
"Not all of them," the Old Man replied ominously. "A few, the Guardians of Old were able to trap within the pages of books, which were then hidden, never to be seen again,"
"Until now," Slim said, finishing the Old Man's sentence. They looked at each other gravely, each knowing the weight of what this meant, but Bram's thoughts were racing too fast, too chaotic to fully comprehend exactly what it meant that a Cela's prison had resurfaced, for he could only think of one thing: Sally.
