Chapter One – The Incident

I awoke to a horrible cramping sensation in my neck and lower back. I gingerly lifted my head from my laptop keyboard. I had to stop this. "Forever the hard worker", I muttered to myself. I looked around. The library was dark. Crap... I had been left alone in here. My boss (who was a total jerk of a woman with most students), knowing that I was, for the time being, entirely devoted to perfecting my thesis, gave me a little time off each evening from working in the library so that I may attend to my precious thesis. Being an Oxford English major sucked drastically at times, but having a job at the massive school library had its perks. Maybe my boss had thought that I'd gone back to the dorm already and had closed up shop for the night.

Realizing that I was about to doze off once more, I decided that it might be a good idea to check the time. My poor laptop's battery had died hours ago, as had my cell phone's. Like a fool, I wore no watch. The only things that decorated my wrists were my many bangles, braided bracelets, and the ink of one of my many tattoos. I've always been what you could call different. I have about a dozen ear piercings. My hair happens to be several shades of deep brown and blonde, laced with two small braids and some hair charms. I have a nose ring. Many tattoos adorn my body, my favorites being a great oak tree that stretches across my back; a sleeve that stretches from my shoulder to my wrist and is made up of an array of different animals, plants, and symbols; my mother's initials on my wrist underneath a small, black, anchor; and a Tolkien quote: "A single dream is worth more than a thousand realities.", accompanied by a second: "You can only come to the morning through the shadows." He was my mother's favorite author. She read me snippets of his books before bed each night. Not the scary parts; only the details about elves and dwarves and happy little hobbit holes.

Most people are intimidated by the tattoos, but hey. I'm me, and I wouldn't have me any other way.

I slapped myself awake as I stood from my creaky, wooden chair. It protested raucously. The noises echoed throughout the room, once more making me aware of how alone I was. I closed my laptop and zipped it into my worn, leather messenger bag. Crap. I still needed to check the time, and if necessary, call my roommate to let her know where I was. Beth tended to get worried easily. She knew I wasn't the type to stay out partying like most college kids. I was a study freak. I stayed inside, glued to books and research papers. I just hoped to God that she hadn't done something rash, like call the campus cops to come find me. That chick always tried to mother me, and normally, I appreciated it. She was a sensible friend to have.

I shuffled down the empty aisles of bookcases, almost knocking over a small display in my groggy state. What a pain in the butt that I worked where I did. When I was working on homework or studying, I had a tendency to conceal myself in a small room in the back. It was mainly full of a bunch of old files containing information about the school. Not many people went back there, and if they were, they were usually very stuffy, boring, history majors. It was always so blissfully quiet. Despite it being the perfect hiding place, it always ensured me a lengthy and winding walk back to the front desk.

I bumped my shins on each furnishing that I passed. Miraculously, I reached the front desk. It took a moment for my sleep-starved brain to process the numbers on the bright, LED clock mounted on the wall behind the desk. Great... 1:40 a.m. I reaaaallllllyyyy needed to call Bethany and let her know that I was actually alive. But, of course, my phone was dead, and I had no way to retrieve her cell phone number until it was charged. She would have to wait until I got back to the dorm. Which I would do, eventually.

A loud thud echoed throughout the library. Perhaps a book had fallen from a table or shelf? Then again, it had sounded too loud to be a mere book… 'Heck, it couldn't have been anything else', I thought. Maybe my boss was still there? Or night custodians. Yeah, that. Whatever it was, it was my duty to make sure that nobody but myself and faculty remained after close…

I swallowed my unease and decided on investigating the sound further. Crap… My poor, dead cell phone... If something was awry, I would have to run like a champ to get to a phone… Or out of the building… Ugh. I was freaking the out. I muttered to myself to calm down. It was probably nothing. Just a book. Or maybe we had mice! It was one of the oldest libraries in Europe, after all. There's bound to be mice once in awhile… 'Or a freakin' serial murderer. And if so, I'm gunna die', I thought to myself. My slight southern drawl holds true, even in my thoughts. It's died down a bit since I moved to England, but I'm still an American girl from the South. I'm one-half Cherokee Indian, which is even more odd to see at Oxford, but hey, I made it here due to my moderately high IQ and record-breaking test scores and GPA, all of which I'm quite proud of. To heck with those stereotypes about southern Americans being stupid.

Again. Crap. Crap. Crap, Jesus H. Christ in a chicken basket. I heard it again. I heard the noise again. Ehhh, something was definitely in the library with me. Whyyyyy did this have to happen to meeee? 'Because you're a sleep-deprived English major who has to not only pass, but exceed on her finals, idiot', I muttered in my head. I mentally slapped myself for not studying in my room tonight. Okay. Breathe. Breathe. I was nearing the source of the noise. I was sweating profusely and shaking like a leaf. The noise again. More sweating and shaking as I neared the back of the library. Finally, I arrived where I had been typing away on my laptop earlier that night. Nobody was there. Nothing moved but my own quivering, panting, sweaty form. I turned toward the door, sighing a sigh of relief. A bright light filled my vision from the doorway and a searing pain filled my body. I promptly collapsed on the floor. My vision slowly began to fade to black as I fought to keep my eyes open. Through my half-closed eyes, I could make out a dark figure standing over me. Pain engulfed my mind and everything went black.