How to Find your Way in the Incomplete Archives

Fifteen

No wrinkles marred the heavy, floor-length white cloak wrapped around "his" body. The pale skin and fair hair made "him" appear fragile. At their distance, however, the Librarian could make out the more uncanny features of this humanoid charade.

The bookkeeper froze as they recognised the tell-tale signs, 'Angler lizard,'

The unfocussed eyes stared into emptiness. When it spoke, there was a slight offset between its lip movements and the spoken words.

"Thank goodness I found you. I've been lost for hours. Could you tell me where I am?" Contrary to its words, the "man" standing before the Librarian did not seem agitated. "His" face was expressionless but that was to be expected.

The "human" part of the angler was an enlarged bait formed from the end of the lizard's tail clothed in shedable skin.

It was a lure meant to draw in its favourite prey — humans. In the absence of humans, the anglers in the Library had found a wider selection of prey in the shape of sentient fictional characters.

According to its story, the sounds of "his" voice emanated from a vocal organ planted deep in its "chest". What was worse, the lure could communicate like a person, often playing on the sentiments of confused passersby to trick them.

With the Maintenance Mode fiasco in full swing and the superseding powers of the characters threatening to jeopardise the authority of the Library, the angler lizard presented itself as a much greater threat.

The main reason being that these creatures had the ability to erase the presence of the prey that had been consumed. Their incomplete story notes went on to explain that the souls of their dead victims would lose all memories of their past and be forced to wander between the planes of the living and the dead.

Of course, one of the Unbreakable Rules of the Library guaranteed that the Librarian could not be killed or destroyed in any permanent sense within the Library but the prospect of erasure still loomed large.

They took slow, imperceptible steps to back away from the menacing presence.

"Wait, where are you going?" The man stood still. His pose was unnaturally rigid.

There was much to consider in that situation but the next thought that worried the Guardian of the Library was the distance between them.

The hook of the angler lizards, in their experience, was always dropped near the base of a shelf. The lizard itself would hide on the higher parts to keep a close eye on its prey. It never strayed too far from the hook-tail. The predator would inch closer as the bait was maneuvered towards their quarry until there would be no chance of escape.

This "man" was only about three yards away, standing in the middle of the open space with no wall in sight.

The Librarian shook their head, 'It better not be what I think,'

They tilted their face up and met the cold stare of the vertical, crimson pupil.

****

'Where am I?' They next woke up in the glass-bound cocoon of a hibernation pod. Not too far, someone was sitting nearby on a stool, reading a book.

'Boss, you're back!'

A splitting headache wreaked havoc through the shared cognitive module. The words of the other seemed to be coming from far away. It took the Librarian a moment to recognise the masked figure before them as 'the Archivist'.

'Wh... how long was I out?'

'That's sixteen system hours on the dot.'

A brooding sense of unease settled on their thoughts but they focussed on the more pressing questions.