Newly published; enjoy the new edit—this will be the last for the night! Horror in the Library
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Before Hiroshi reached the top step of the staircase, he glanced back over his shoulder, a gut feeling telling him something was missing. And he was right: the technical equipment was gone. Hiroshi scowled bitterly; ah, yes, that poser must have taken everything. How infantile.
He pressed on up the stairs. No matter, wherever Takeshi is, I'm sure he'll have a flashlight or two. Haha, Satō, you lose again!
Hiroshi walked to the first door in his sight, a rather eroded wooden door with a wooden doorknob just a little too far to the left. It was locked, how wonderful. Scowling, Hiroshi stepped back and glanced around at his surroundings; it looked the same as the floor below with another staircase further off behind the stairwell he'd come up and there was a door further ahead of him as well as one down to the right.
One of these must be unlocked, he reasoned as he opened the door to the door right before the stairwell.
The knob was metal and chilled his hand like an ice cube. He dismissed a feeling of paranoia; that dense pressure from before had returned. He started to look over his shoulder but stopped himself. At the most, it was probably a mouse and nothing more could come from cowering away from an invisible monster.
"Don't be stupid, Hiroshi," he whispered as he twisted the loose knob. "There is no such thing as an ao oni. It's absurd to think otherwise!"
With a small push the door swung open; Hiroshi had to catch the knob before the frame hit the wall. He hurried into the room and shut the door behind him. Once again, he scowled at himself, knowing he was being ridiculous.
"This is ridiculous!" He muttered, turning from the door. This room, he noted, appeared to be a bedroom. There were cabinets against the far wall, a desk, and a closet in the right wall. The sliding doors of the closet were partially separated, but Hiroshi didn't acknowledge it. "Might as well start searching for clues."
With the locked room downstairs in mind, Hiroshi started exploring the cabinets, fiddling around with some of the knickknacks and slowly making his way to a table. Before he reached the chair, the tall cabinet in the corner shook. Alarmed, Hiroshi whipped around to it and pulled the chair out in front of him, braced to defend himself.
Nothing happened for several seconds. Now curious, Hiroshi warily walked to it, chair at his side. The cabinet shook again, less violently than before. Without giving himself time for second thought, Hiroshi grabbed the handle and pulled it open.
His jaw dropped and his brows arched; Takeshi was curled up on the top shelf in a puddle of flashlights. He recoiled from the light the open door brought in, teeth chattered. Then he slumped against one of the walls with his arms wrapped around his trembling knees. He didn't even seem to notice Hiroshi standing there.
"Takeshi!" Hiroshi exclaimed, astonished.
Takeshi didn't reply, only shivered harshly. The creaking in the ceiling from before recurred to Hiroshi; was it Takeshi running around?
"Where are the others?" Hiroshi wondered, trying to keep his tone soothing.
Takeshi shuddered at the mention of 'others.' His face paled and his eyes rolled up, revealing the white underneath. Hiroshi flinched; things were getting strange so suddenly. Why was Takeshi so despondent? He had been fine twenty minutes ago. He was already timid and shy, anyone could see that, but what would drive him to vegetation? He was hyperventilating and wheezing.
Then again, he did seem to be very over reactive…he had probably lost it over a mouse or a bug.
"Hmmm…" Hiroshi stared at Takeshi a moment longer, pondering the situation. Takeshi didn't have asthma or any other sort of respiratory issues. The worst health hazard he'd ever had was a broken wrist when he had tripped roller-skating last year. If he were overreacting, it would be nothing to worry about. But an abrupt abstraction in his safer theory suggested there was something else happening. Something deranged. "If you won't come out, I'll have to leave you in there."
Takeshi made no attempt to exit. Blinking estranged, Hiroshi left the cabinet doors open and continued searching the desk. There was nothing atop the surface, so he supposed there might be something in one of the drawers. He felt a little awkward since he was technically looting someone's belongings but he set the feeling aside; the family was long gone and they had chosen to leave their things behind. That wasn't his fault.
As he switched from one side to another, he noticed something glistening in the top left corner. Hiroshi ducked under the table and discovered it was a small silver key, the tip buried in the wood. He grasped it and tugged; it popped out without much effort.
Hiroshi stood, very sure he had never been puzzled by so many things at once. He was getting the feeling this manor was hiding something, and he thought maybe he should have seen that coming. Why else would this place be abandoned?
Which also brought something else to his attention: wasn't the house supposed to be condemned? It was supposed to be an eroded, rotting mess and here it was, spiffy and glistening as if it were newly built. Strange this house was. And what about the families who had lived there in the past?
The last family to live there had left nine years earlier and for an unknown reason. Whatever it was, Hiroshi could assume it was fantastically, dramatically horrible, otherwise he couldn't imagine someone leaving such a home. His heart wretched; could there be a possibility something was awry?
He stopped himself in mid-thought and sighed; he was being absurd again! What was this, wishful thinking? Did he really want something to be wrong with the house? Why was he so paranoid? There were no such things as monsters! They were scapegoats for the insane! There was nothing wrong with this house besides a few creaking floorboards and some mice.
He quickly turned his attention back to the key and started to examine it. He noticed a folded sticky note stuck on the underside. Brows furrowing, he peeled it off and unfolded it.
Library Key.
This must be it, he mused. Why, it must be the key for the downstairs door—it must be the library. Eureka, looks like I finally found something worth interest!
The cabinet shuddered behind him and was still. Hiroshi, knocked out of his thoughts, turned to it and peered inside again. Takeshi's eyes were closed but his breathing had slowed.
Maybe I should drag him out? Hiroshi pondered. …Ah, if he wants out he'll come out.
Hiroshi hastily reached for a flashlight and started to retract his arm when Takeshi grabbed his wrist. Surprised, Hiroshi yelped and tried to tug his hand out of his iron grip. Takeshi was unrelenting and he pulled Hiroshi towards him until they were nose to nose.
Where did Takeshi get this sort of strength? Hiroshi thought incredulously.
Takeshi swallowed, eyes still shut tightly, and whispered in a raspy undertone, "It's freaky, HiroshiPEN. It's freaking me—be careful. Watch out for it, HiroshiPEN!"
Hiroshi stared, confused. "What are you talking about, a ghost?"
"No…no, monster…monster, Hiroshi…" Takeshi slumped and released Hiroshi's wrist, exchanging it for the rest of the flashlights as he pulled them to his chest like a mass of teddy bears.
"Idiot, what monster?" When Takeshi didn't answer Hiroshi ground his teeth angrily. "Takeshi, what am I looking out for? A bug?"
"Monster, Hiroshi…" And Takeshi was silent.
What is going on? Hiroshi thought incredulously. This…just what is going on? Monster? No such thing!
"Some kind of ghost hunter you are," he mumbled as he exited the room.
He exited quietly and left the door ajar for Takeshi before wandering off down the steps. That supposed library downstairs was the only room on his mind; the other doors in the vicinity didn't matter at the moment. They were probably all locked, anyway, and if they weren't, he'd figure out how to open them sooner or later.
He jogged back into the foyer, through the hallway, and stopped before the supposed library door, eyeing it warily. The keyhole was outlined with silver, just as the key was.
This is it, he thought excitedly as he slid the key in through the slot, progress.
And he turned the key.
Something inside the frame clicked and the door jolted. Hiroshi grinned; yes, this was progress.
Inside was what the key suggested: a library. There were towering bookcases standing against the far wall, lined in rows. There was a large oak desk pressed up against the left wall with disheveled pages scattered across the surface and floor. A few chairs were overturned and three were standing on the table.
This house really isn't what it appears to be, Hiroshi speculated. What kind of home is this?
He started past the first bookshelf and stopped when he heard something passing on the other side, like a gust of wind. Hiroshi jumped back from the desk and stood against the bookshelf, heart pumping in his chest. Whatever it was, it was stalking around the other side rather loudly.
Hiroshi's bangs swayed, proof there was some sort of wind in there. Maybe a window?
This is ridiculous! He thought abruptly, whipping his head frantically. Why am I so paranoid? Ever since I found that plate shard…The shelves were slanted. Takeshi must have been running around upstairs, Mika and Takuro are in some closet as I sit here cowering like an idiot, Naoki is probably upstairs bored, Nikoru is running around somewhere, and Satō is just…I really hope Nikoru's okay.
It's only been—he checked his watch—an hour and I'm losing it! Nikoru wasn't worried, neither was Satō when he was creeping around, Takeshi is already overactive, and I haven't heard Takuro or Mika screaming. Naoki would have come searching for me if something were wrong…honestly, I'm not his mother…But if none of the others are worried, I shouldn't be either. Absurd…
He pushed himself off the case, his grip slipping on the books, and peered around the corner. There was no window. In fact, there was nothing there at all. The air was abruptly still.
"Just what is going on!" He exclaimed angrily. "Nikoru, if this is one of your pranks, I'm going to kill you!"
No reply.
"Takuro? Anyone?"
No reply.
"Hmmm…" Hiroshi cautiously walked back to the table and started examining the loose papers. There were news clips and torn pages from books, most of them involving poltergeists and demon exterminators. As he sorted through them, he pushed his glasses up uneasily. "Strange atmosphere…"
There was a stack of clippings that were hard to ignore with their colorful and vividly gruesome photos, so Hiroshi focused on them. The top paper had been ripped out of some sort of book. There was a picture of a dead body on the bottom of the page. Dark blue letters that looked to be typed told a story about a small town priest who was also a demon exterminator. He had exorcised many demons and ghosts from haunted homes.
The next page said the priest had gone missing and no one had seen him since his investigated of Fau Manor. The house in the picture was the manor Hiroshi was standing in at that very moment. Overwhelmed with a sudden wave of nausea, Hiroshi stepped away from the table to recapture his breath.
What is this? He wondered, confused. Why do I feel so sick?
Recollecting himself, he stood before the table again before glancing over his shoulder. He had a terrible feeling he was being watched. So much paranoia recently…why was that, he wondered. He had to be kidding himself if he really thought something was wrong. It wasn't denial…or maybe it was?
Refusing to dwell on that aspect of himself, he switched to the next paper in the stack. There was a simple beige note with a phone number in the bottom left corner stapled to another newspaper clipping with the title, 'Exorcists.' Many of the numbers and addresses were church identities and circled with red pen.
He skipped a few grotesque papers of deaths and bloodied images of the victim's bodies and picked up a letter to a Catholic priest. The cursive was faded and splotched in some places; Hiroshi could only make out a few words.
Terror, haunting, sharp, help, oni.
Oni.
Hiroshi tried not to let himself be affected by the cryptic words and moved onto the paper below it; another clipping from the priest agreeing to meet the Fau Manor family and investigate the home. The final clipping in this series said the priest had gone missing and the police were setting up an investigation against the family.
It also included a section on the back, indicating many visitors of the home had been disappearing over the years. The police finally had some sort of evidence against the blamed family: blood on an antique piano the family kept in the music room.
Hiroshi shook his head cynically. He glanced warily over his shoulder again and took a deep breath to steady his erratically pounding heart.
The next several clips were updates on the investigation; more people missing and nothing solved. They suspected the oldest son or the indifferent grandmother of the Fau family. They stated the old lady had gone insane; she had rambled to them about demons and ghosts in the home that had been terrorizing the family for years. Why didn't you leave, they asked. Because it's our home and the last bit of heritage we have left, the grandmother answered. My great-great-great grandmother had this house built from scratch and they unfairly burned her at the stake because some paranoid teenagers suspected she was a witch, of all things! the woman continued furiously. The clipping declared her hostile and unnerved.
Skipping several more papers, Hiroshi finally found one worth shuddering over: the oldest son had murdered half the staff, half the police force, his youngest siblings, and his father. Then, he burned the basement of Fau Manor and authorities found him skinned with a vise-like grip on a small, black book in one hand. The team that discovered him said they had watched in horror as he was dragged into a hole in the floor. No one had ever seen him again.
The last clip Hiroshi read was the final paper in the stack. It was the last update of the family, stating they had abandoned the home after the horrific events and the story concluded with a memorial for all the son, Alex Fau, had murdered.
"How unsettling…" Hiroshi whispered apprehensively, pushing the the paper aside to reveal another silver key. Hiroshi's breath caught in his throat. "Another key…What is with all these secrets?"
He picked it up gingerly and discovered yet another sticky note on the backside. He unfolded it.
Fourth Floor Bedroom Key.
"Fourth floor," he murmured. "It must include the basement, so third floor…All the way up there? I'll most likely run into Mika and Takuro with this…" He squeezed his eyes shut. "I really don't want to think about that. Ugh."
Disgusted, Hiroshi scrunched his nose and started towards the library door when a purple blur against the back wall caught his attention. He stopped in mid-motion and felt his limbs grow numb. His brain stopped working and whirled around in his head, thumping in rhythm with his pulsing, accelerating heart. A loud rush, a white noise, filled his ears and he was positive his glasses were about to crack with the intensity of the rising tension.
There, still against the wall like a blotted statue with big, round, empty eye sockets, given the exception of two small red laser-like pupils floating around in each emptiness, was the large, purple mass of a monster. It gazed hungrily at Hiroshi, its watering mouth slightly opened. A dribble of saliva trickled down its jaw.
Hiroshi begged himself to move, but his legs wouldn't give. He felt as if he were glued to the floor. Horror pounded his heart. His stomach felt weighed by heavy stones and his feet by led. It took several seconds for it to sink in—what he was seeing—and several more to remember how to run.
The second some sense returned to him, he pivoted and sprinted like an Olympic to the door. The monster seethed and Hiroshi knew the chase was on.
Hiroshi bolted through the door and down the hallway to the foyer. Terrifyingly curious, he stole a quick glance over his shoulder and all but screamed when he saw the damn thing running calmly after him, as if bored with chasing him already, but Hiroshi could see the interest in its black, soulless eyes.
Hiroshi flew up the steps, almost not expecting it to follow him. But it was wishful thinking as he started up the next staircase and saw it running across the second floor after him. Hiroshi yelled and entered the third floor hallway. There were two rooms, one straight ahead and one off to the left. Hiroshi ignored the ache in his legs and practically levitated to the left door, arm extended with key in hand.
A low, breezy groan rumbled off the walls. Adrenaline exploded in Hiroshi's gut; it had to be right behind him. He had one shot to slide the key into the slot—no second chance.
From a foot away he aligned the key with the slot as best he could. He took a deep breath, knowing it would possibly be his last, and lunged.
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