journalnook.neocities.org

return to entrance

inside

with one long, mighty push, the giant double doors growl ajar.

you peek inside. the floor is somewhat wet.

where you expect a clear hallway or hall, the wooden side of a bookshelf stands in the middle of the hallway. it and the books on the ground beckon you from the fresh air.

you slip inside and creep in front of it. the cobwebs tucked in the corners of its shelves are bigger than your head.

the hallway's silence looms.

hushes like whispers break out, and you flinch and turn to face the exit.

right as you turn, you catch a glimpse of a gleam on the lowest shelf; you stop for it. it comes from a book more worn than the ones beside it. when you reach out and touch it, dust clings to your finger, and your fingertip darkens with dirt. you bring it just before your eyes. something stiffens and itches in your throat, and you cough, blowing the blanket of dust off the book's cover.

you look around. while your voice echoes through the darkness, the cast of light from the high windows and small glints from holes in the wall etches out many more bookshelves cluttering the hallway.

once the sound dies down, you look at the book again. it contains strange words that don't seem to belong to this world.