The Haunted Library
'The essay is to be handed in by Tuesday, indeed!' repined Rosy angrily to herself, while long and flexible brunches was diligently clapping her face. Because she tried to pull them off, but so overgrown was the abandoned park that a girl could not control all the bushes and branches on her way. She also was utterly thankful that no roses used to be planted there.
It was so cruel for the professor of Medieval History to get students to write an enormous essay on the topic... Well, it was the only book about this in their town, and now Rosy was trying to reach it first.
Finally she saw it: a majestic white marble kind of palace was greatly towering over the chaotic bushes. Rosy sighed in admiration: she did not expect that an old library in the middle of nowhere would be located in such a fabulous building.
Rosy reached the entrance. The heavy wooden door unwillingly cracked, letting the girl in. A big tableau was meeting her. And also was the gloom.
'They might as well use candlelight... ' Rosy murmured malcontentedly. Truly was there dark, and cold, and a little damp. But who cares when the essay is to be handed in two days?!
Rosy scanned through "The Library's rules". She found it even slightly amusing:
1. You must not scream.
2. Under no circumstances shall you touch, or read, or lick, or eat books in The Library's collection
3. You must not touch, or follow, or speak to anybody and anybodyless emerged from any kind of book
4. You shall be cautious not to cross the worlds' borderline
And in the very corner of a sheet was scribbled in a reddish ink, "Go away".
'What funny stuff works here!' thought Rosy, 'A silver lining in this cloud, try to find they.' she smiled pitifully, glancing at the broken tile and dusty staircase.
She climbed the stairs and pushed another door. It yielded so vigorously that Rosy almost fell down; she only managed to stay because she was holding the doorknob.
'It's November out here,' she raised a brow, 'they could've closed the windows.'
The library appeared to be an endless row of Atlanteans' high bookshelves. Rosy stepped on a carpet aisle, and a cloud of dust rose: obviously the library wanted a thorough cleaning.
It seemed like nobody was in here. Rosy tried to call some librarians, but it was inefficient. Decided to find the book on her own, she went forward.
After some time (it was impossible to count how much as time seemed to have ceased), the girl eventually reached the medieval history section. Rosy was amazed by the amount of useful and riveting books stored here. «The Ancient Runes Dictionary», «Boudicca's Memoranda» were evidently useful for her future diploma, whereas «Atlantis' Heritage» and «Witchy Wales» drove her attention immensely.
Finally, Rosy found the book she was searching for. However, as she held out her hand, an apparition suddenly emerged in front of her, which made Rosy scream in a shrill manner.
'Two points!' a strict distant voice yelled, 'You have violated two points of rules, young lady!'
An apparition appeared to be a shiny elderly man wearing a funny leather tailcoat and having an unbelievably long silvery mustache. He was waving his cane angrily at gobsmacked Rosy.
'I am sorry, sir, but you... You have appeared quite unexpectedly,' said the girl in a modest manner.
'Unexpectedly indeed!' it seemed as the ghost was not satisfied with Rosy's answer, 'The third point in a row! How dare you, intruder, speak to Lord Burberg?'
'I don't care whether you are Lord Barber, Sir Lancelot or whoever!' she exploded, 'I'll be quite peaceful provided you wrote my essay, but I'm afraid you are unable,' She glanced at his transparent hands, 'So let me take the book, and I' ll return it by Friday!' and she seized the book.
The ghost stood scared stiff. The library was soundless.
'You won't cross the worlds' borderline, will you?' said the ghost quietly.
'You wish,' Rosy rolled her eyes and headed towards the exit through the rows of bookshelves.
'What implausible was stated in the rules?' clincked his tongue the ghostly librarian, waving his hands in extreme indignation. He floated drearily through the air, wishing he could ever retire.
