Behind The Locks || ONC 2024

Chapter 8: Memories Disappear

The sun cat walked to the Western ends while the moon yawned to its wake up call.

Unlike the first day, Arielline's luck had deflated; she had less customers in comparison, but that was not the unnerving sentiment, the gush of white fog was yet to awaken.

She switched to her phone discomfort galloping down her throttle. The clock was minutes to hitting the eight p.m mark.

She had not yet visited the link sent by Zack, half the reason being saving power in case she needed to use it in lighting through the fabric of darkness, the other half because the keys were mesmerizing and all she wanted was to know more about them.

So far, nothing more than what her eyes had settled upon had showed up, though she could feel that there was more to be explored of them than what her eyes had seen.

Her efforts to explore them through the internet were futile, same to most of the history books in the library.

The closest she got to a key and lock was in a paranormal story revolving around Twelve Locks Valley’s traditions and cultural beliefs; it had something to do with characters locking doors. 

It didn't require tiresome digging to tell that it was unrelated to her case. Looking at it both figuratively and literally, it was out of topic.

Maybe Zack had facts about them or either or her friends, who knew? 

Twelve keys for twelve locks, as the valley was named, couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

The name must have come from somewhere.

Falling unceremoniously the previous night plus influence from smoke she could only guess attacked her must have broken shards of her memories; no matter how hard she tried to piece together images of the four books that had been dropped, she failed.

Their titles and the details labeled on their covers flashed like a white light, clouding her view.

Her phone vibrated, a familiar alarm tone playing against the pocket of her pajamas.

She needed no confirmation to tell what time the clock had just struck.

To her luck or misfortune there were still two more customers; a man in his late thirties, blonde haired, and ginger skinned, and a short boy, probably a teenager, tucked in one corner of the library, a book in front of his face.

She turned it off, reinstating the calm in the air.

Her eyes instinctively switched towards the direction of the sections, though her sight was blocked with a wall, fright consuming her skin to bone.

Any time from now the library will be flooded with white smoke. The just thought crumbled her composure.

Her heart overtook its tempo synchronizing with that of revving chopper engine, the air around her becoming rather denser.

It couldn't attack while there were people around, could it? 

Consoling herself had never been her forte, her thoughts spoke opposite to her actions.

Every fly that buzzed made her whimper. Every current that hummed made her shiver. Every flap a book made made her quiver.

Any form of disturb caused a subtle course of panic.

Time toddled in the proudness of a peacock, after which the teenage boy left. 

The man remaining had every reason to leave more so the sleep hauling his eyelids together. 

He kept on losing it to sleep but kept on forcing the book into his head.

At least he kept the ghost smoke away, but for how much longer.

Time slipped to nine thirty, the official time she was assigned to close work. To her relief, the smoke had not yet attacked.

The man had passed out and was laying helplessly on the dictionary sized book he was reading. 

Either the ghost cringed from his presence, or it was one of the luckiest days of her life. Either way it saved her a lot more than her skin jumping out of her.

She gently shook the man, who abruptly woke up uttering in a language of his own creation.

“I'm sorry but it's time to close the library.” He stared at her with an expression she could not read. “So, if you may leave.”

The man slouched off his chair and hunched past her, heading for the door. She hesitated not striding after his footsteps, a padlock on her right and a box on her left.

She locked the door behind her releasing a breath she was holding for so long that she didn't notice.

°*°

“Did you watch them?”Zack's voice almost took her by surprise. 

He was seated on his favorite rocking chair in a gloom where only his face was visible from a phone screen reflection.

“Watch what?” She enquired striding for the kitchen counter.

“Ian and Jade,” Zack’s tone performed an E in covering the whim of excitement in it.

“Who are those?”

Zack did not fall for the joke. 

“I sent you the link. Don't tell me you didn't see it.”

“What link?”

Zack's brows fell. The joke was becoming less funny. “The link I sent you. Ian and Jade. Remember? You were so enthusiastic about the library’s past at dawn.”

She munched into a cookie, her eyes burning a look at Zack's face. “You're kidding right?”

“No. You're the one who is kidding here.” He fixed his glare to hers.  “Please stop pretending like you don't remember. I'm not buying it.”

“Zack, have you been taking something?”

“Are you kidding me. Do you remember what happened after you woke up?”

“You mean how I went to work WITH PAJAMAS! Yeah.”

“Before that.”

Arielline found it formidable to distinguish when Zack was serious or joking due to his superb paragonic plays, but somehow she could tell that he was serious. But how could he be serious about something she had never done in her life?

“I was asleep, dead as a sack of potatoes.” She attempted to put up some warmth in the conversation, but in contrast a frown settled upon Zack’s face.