I'm in a huge room, filled with bookshelves rising high all around me.
There is no roof, the shelves are so high that I can't see their endings.
I spin around. Everywhere I look are books. Some are large, some small.
Think ones and thin. Old and new. All kinds of books as far as my sight reaches.
The place is brightly lit, making the titles of the neatly placed novels easy to read.
Many are familiar, like Narnia and Harry Potter. Some are unknown or in a different language.
I walk around for a while, letting my right hand glide along the shelves, feeling smoothness of the books I pass.
Just as I stop to pick out one of the unfamiliar books, a novel called De Aanslag, a shadow creeps up next to me.
I'm not fooled by thinking it is my own shadow, since I appeared to have none in this place.
I take a step back and look around for the source of the shadow.
There is none, just like there isn't a lamp or any other source of light. Yet, there it is.
A shadow that's not supposed to be there in a place where I'm not supposed to be.
Because that much is clear to me, I don't want to be here and presumably not supposed to be here either.

As I look back, I notice the pieces of shredded paper next to De Aanslag.
I frown, eying the shadow suspiciously. Something doesn't feel right about it.
The shadow slowly spreads. I reach out one hand to touch it.
My slender fingers have a ghostly pale color in this light.
Just before I touch the shadow, it reaches another book. The book falls to pieces in the absence of the light.
I quickly take a step back, not so eager to touch the shadow anymore.
It has now spread to the first book with a familiar title: The Maze Runner.
I gasp for air as it shredders too. Not wanting to see further damage being done, I turn my back to the shadow.
From the corner of my eye, I can see that it keeps growing.
I suddenly become afraid, thinking about what would happen if it gets to me.
Shall I turn to ashes, like the books? "No, it's just a dream." I tell myself with a shaking voice.
The lack of conviction makes my heart sink in my chest. I shake my head in an attempt to wake up.
When that doesn't happen, I start running.
I pass bookcase after bookcase, not looking at the books anymore, keeping my hands close to my chest.
I run through many long rows trying to avoid the darkness.
After what feels like hours of running, I fall to my knees in exhaustion.
I take in sharp breaths and try to calm down my racing heart.
I appear to have outrun the slowly spreading shadow, so I allow myself a break.
However before I can properly sit down, I faint.