I went out to Main Street looking for something to do. All doors said closed. Even the bank and the Post Office. Maybe it was Sunday or something. I thought it was Thursday or Friday, but maybe not. But when I walked by the church, it was closed up too.
I needed some help. Things were getting too bizarre. Maybe the police... no, closed too. Maybe... maybe the library.
I walked to the end of Main Street. There stood a stone building, painted tan, but peeling, sitting on the corner. In big letters it said, “City Hall.” Below, in smaller letters, it said, “Library.” I walked up the steps and to my great surprise (not really) it was closed. The sign on the door said, “Open: Dusk. Closed: Dawn.” That can’t be right. Someone must have the sign wrong.
I peered inside not sure what I’d see. Books were all I saw... wait... did something move? No way. It might be the librarian doing some extra work. I knocked. Everything seemed to stop.
I was probably seeing things. I turned and sat on the steps.
Werewolves. Those are just stories. Just a bunch of... CLICK. I turned and saw the library door swing open. But no one was there.
I stood. “Hello?” No answer. I pushed on the door. It creeeeaked open. “Hello?” My voice echoed. Nothing.
I stepped inside. Someone must be in here somewhere. Why would they leave the door open if no one was here?
A light flipped on at the back of the dark-shelved room. I slowly moved toward the light.
I heard pages flipping as I stepped on the hard floor. The room sounded hollow as I moved. My heart beat fast like rap music. Pages flittered just beyond the next self.
When I got there, the pages had stopped. A wind breathed on me through a window. The wind... that’s how the book... but the lights? Then I saw the title of the book at the top of the page. “The Wolf - Fact or Fiction.” The book was on page 13. Figures.
I flipped to the front of the book. I always like to read things in order. I’m not a browser.
I read the introduction first. “There are many misconceptions about the wolf. Many see the wolf as a killer or a demon. People fear the wolf thinking it is out to get them. They get these ideas from stories like “Little Red Riding Hood.” But no one has ever reported an attack by a healthy wild wolf in North America.” I kept reading the introduction, soaking it in. Wolves didn’t sound so bad. They sounded like they had a place in nature. They weren’t some horrible thing out to destroy for no reason. They had a purpose; a reason to be.
Enough with the sermon.
I turned to the table of contents. I scanned it casually until my eyes locked on “Myth - The Legend of the Werewolf.....p. 13” 13 again. I wonder...
A creak echoed through the room. I froze. I looked around. Nothing. Old buildings make noises I guess.
I flipped to page 13 and read, “The only way to cure a werewolf...” The words jumped out at me like Disneyland. A cure!
Then a huge THUMP made me spin around. A book had fallen from a shelf behind me. Then another fell. THUMP. They all seemed to be sliding now... THUMP THUMP. The whole bookshelf seemed to be... THUMPTHUMPTHUMP! Falling!
I ran. Books fell all around me. I dove for the wall. The huge bookshelf crashed down.
Dust rose up from the mess and clouded the room. I coughed a little and tried to wave it away with my hands.
Then there was silence. Nothing moved. Nothing creaked. Nothing thumped. I was alone.
This was not my day.