#restricted section.

The library hummed with a soft thrum of overhead lights, the rustle of pages, and the low murmur of scattered voices. Cairn had chosen a chair with a clear view of the entrance, but far enough from the center to remain unnoticed. She hadn’t said what she looked like. Neither had they. But that wasn’t the kind of thing Cairn needed.

The more time she spent here, the more she noticed the rhythm of it. People entered with purpose, caught in their own loops of borrowed books and silence. Even newcomers followed a pattern: they’d drift to the front desk before heading into the shelves.

Then someone different walked in.

Their eyes moved around, their footing unsure. To someone else it may have just been someone lost, looking for help. Cairn could pick up the subtle difference between someone looking for help and someone looking to be found.

Cairn stayed still. Observed. Waited until they faltered just enough to prove it: this one was hers.

Cairn stood up from her seat without drawing attention and moved toward them. They had their back to her. It could’ve been a mistake, could’ve been just a stranger caught in her line of suspicion, but she let curiosity take the lead.

“What walks into the library unsure, but leaves with the weight of knowing?”

The words broke gently across the quiet, her voice low, just enough to be heard, maybe enough to startle. If someone were particularly observant, they’d notice the glint in Cairn’s eye as she referenced their online conversation with a riddle. It may have been an obvious one but Cairn wasn’t one for riddles to begin with.

—

There had never been much need for libraries in her life. In childhood, Jenny had simply received books before even asking for them, and whenever she did ask, she got them all the same. The need to borrow had not existed, as borrowing tended to imply a shortcoming of sorts, at least according to her parents.

In college, she’d ventured into libraries for the first time and found a romanticism in them — which could be considered condescending, but Jenny never considered such things. She liked passing through books that had been read by others before, and though she would always prefer owning literature, the vast range of books on offer in libraries was enticing.

These days, she had to rely on them a little more. The internet offered contradicting and false sources on the existence of vampires. Book shops needed to sell to exist, so catered to wider audiences. The obscure stuff had to be somewhere, so maybe the library was where it was at. And luckily, this town did come with helpful strangers. That could also be axe murderers, though Jenny was also failing to consider that.

As she entered the library, she felt a little unsure — maybe she and her online acquaintance should have agreed to wear a red shirt or rose or whatever people did in situations like this. Her eyes slid around the library and she felt uncomfortable, standing there like a lost creature. She was quick to move around, to look like she had a purpose before an employee would ask her if she needed help, and pulled out her phone to text her internet stranger.

A voice piped up as she was about to hit send and Jenny knew this had to be her. The sphinx like person. She turned around, taking in the other before pondering on her question. “... Uh, me?” She tacked a smile at the end of her sentence, in an attempt to not appear as unsure as she clearly did. “Are you Cairn?”

___

When Jenny turned and tacked on the smile, Cairn didn’t return one, but her expression wasn’t unkind. Just still. “Yeah.” Her voice was soft but carried. “You came.” She observed. Her curiosity must have been too strong and Cairn understood that. She was just as curious about someone who wanted to learn more about things that are often kept in the dark.

That was all. No prompting, no further welcome. She turned and began to walk.

Not toward the general shelves or even the regular back stacks, but past a row of carts no one ever seemed to put away, enough to keep most library goers away but not Cairn.

They walked past a crooked door with a peeling Staff Only sign that no one ever seemed to guard. Nor come and go. Least not that Cairn has noticed. And she would have. She didn’t speak as she moved, nor did she look back, trusting Jenny would follow if the girl meant what she said online. Her steps were soft, deliberate. But every now and then she glanced upward, like checking for watchers, or maybe just listening for something no one else could hear.

They reached a short, half-blocked hallway where boxes sat stacked. Forgotten donations of excess supply, she wasn’t sure. At the end of it, a short shelf leaned against the wall, bowed with the weight of those books, dark, aged wood, but no signs. No classification tags. The books there were uneven. Some bound in cloth, others scrawled with ink titles half-faded from age or something else.

Cairn crouched beside it, fingers brushing a spine like she was trying to see if it would respond. She didn’t look at Jenny when she finally spoke.

“They don’t want you reading these, I think,” she said, quiet. Not angry. Not warning. Just fact. Cairn had been caught here a few times before but sometimes workers seemed shocked that this even existed. Almost like… the door only appeared sometimes. Cairn had yet to test that theory as when she looked for it, she found it.

—

So the mystery thing wasn’t an act. While Cairn spoke plainly and without much pizazz, Jenny still found herself a little perplexed by the way the other confirmed their identity and then turned around, walking further into the library. It was kind of bemusing, the way she confidently expected her to follow — and follow she did. 

If her story was a hero’s journey, and she hoped it would be, then this Cairn could fulfill the role of the guide. A wise mentor, pointing her in the right direction to gain the knowledge she needed to properly start her quest and journey into immortality. She really hoped Cairn was worth her salt, though if the conviction with which she walked through the library was any indication, she knew what she was up to.

Jenny opened her mouth a few times to say something, the lingering silence making her mind spin. She wasn’t always great at starting or keeping up conversation, but she was even worse at silence.

“Should we —” She didn’t finish her question of whether they should be ignoring very obvious signs that this was not for them. Jenny had little issue with ignoring such requests, anyway, not out of some kind of rebellious spirit but because she felt a certain entitlement. There had not been a lot of signs like this she’d had to obey growing up, and in her (relative) adulthood, she had yet to shake that habit of childish spoiledness.

It was that spoiledness that might make her lash out at Cairn, if this was all a grand prank or waste of her time — but it seemed there was no need for that. Jenny inhaled a sharp breath of air as the two of them stopped in front of a shelf with books that seemed like they belonged in one of her beloved movies or TV shows. Old, in a way that promised answers that were better than those Reddit or random forums could ever supply. 

She moved towards them, trying to make out the words on the spines before taking one of the books out. “What do you mean, they? Who are they?” Dust covered the top of the book and she blew it away, watching it circle around in the light. “Have you read any of them?” She wanted to take them all, devour them in one sitting in her bedroom while forgetting about basic human functions. But she didn’t want to be caught stealing by this semi-stranger just yet.

____

Before Cairn could respond to her multiple questions, a cool breeze brushed against her skin. Cairn barely registered it as she heard the soft huff of air from Jenny blowing against a book. She turned toward the door, but before she could react further, it slammed shut with a heavy thud. Darkness swallowed the room, leaving only a thin line of light under the door.

That’s strange.

Cairn stepped toward the door, her eyes straining to adjust. She reached for the handle. It didn’t budge. Locked. Someone shutting them in?

No. She would have heard footsteps, breathing, anything. There had been nothing before the door closed. Cairn considered how they might get out. An employee would probably hear the slam and come investigate. And if not, she figured, someone had assembled the door, so she could just as easily assemble it. Her breath stayed even, her heart steady. Even trapped in a dark room with a stranger, fear didn’t touch her.

A low, gentle rumbling sounded behind her. Cairn turned her head. The sound deepened, the trembling weight of something stirring. Whether it was a book on the shelf or the one Jenny held, she wasn’t sure. Either way it fell to the floor with a loud thump.

A narrow beam of light shot from Jenny’s hand, one of those small rectangular lanterns they called smartphones. Cairn wasn’t sure if it had responded on its own or if Jenny had pressed something, but either way, it spared her from having to adjust her vision further.

The book shuddered once, and the cover snapped open. Pages fluttered as if caught by an invisible hand, flipping rapidly until they settled on a worn, yellowed spread. As Cairn approached, she saw the ink moving, fresh and alive, writing letters across the page.

"How far will you go…"

___

Her body shook with the impact of the door closing as if it had clashed against her body itself. The noise had been sudden, enough to make her jump and Jenny had just enough control to keep herself from dropping the old book. Good thing, because she wasn't sure if it would survive such a fall.

Cairn was peaceful, but she felt her heartbeat pick up. She thought of the things she had encountered in town so far, the corners she had stuck her nose into — was someone mad at her, or was this the they the other had talked about? She didn't know and honestly, she really would prefer to not find out and not be stuck in a room they weren't supposed to be in. The door wasn't opening, there were sounds that she could not explain.

Jenny took out her phone on instinct when something fell, turning on the flashlight rather than opt for 911. She didn't even want to think about what she'd have to tell the person on the other end. Sorry, I went into a restricted section of the library and maybe we're cursed now?

The light found the culprit of the sound soon enough and her mouth fell open, “What the fuck,” she breathed, the three syllables comfortable in how often she'd said them in this town. Her heartbeat was not resting and she wondered how many beats a minute was the body's maximum. “Did this – has this ever happened to you before – how is this happening?”

Of course, if vampires were real, why shouldn't books be able to move? Jenny crouched closer to it, feeling her breath get stuck in her throat. The book was communicating with them. “What? Go where? What the –” She moved her beam onto Cairn's face, as if she'd hold the answers. “Has this ever happened before? Is this some kind of joke or is this real?” Maybe everything was one elaborate prank, maybe she was like Truman, stuck in a fake reality that others watched for entertainment. She picked up the book up with one hand, held it out to Cairn as more letters appeared:

“To get what you want.” 

___

The other girl was clearly panicked and Cairn observed her reaction, only to be hit by a sudden burst of light. She raised her hand reflexively, irritation flickering across her face. Cairn wasn’t one to comfort or reassure, and now even less so with a blinding light in her face.

“I’ve never seen a book write itself.” Cairn noted with an even tone, her voice a calm contrast to Jenny’s frantic energy. Cairn leaned in to look at the page, then glanced back at her. “Well, answer it.” Cairn stated matter of factly before turning her attention elsewhere, wondering if there was another way out. While not visibly spooked, Cairn didn’t think there was anything safe about a book writing itself right in front of them.

As the other girl answered she looked to the book, watching letters shape once more, replacing the ones from before.

One voice heard. One voice missing.

Missing? So it could hear them. And it knew there were two of them. That caught her interest. She took a step closer and considered the question again - How far would you go to get what you want?

Well, what did she want? Her mind drifted to her parent, but they had gone somewhere they would never come back from.

“Far.” Cairn responded simply, unaware of Jenny’s answer and content with her own.

—

“Answer it?!” Her voice was reaching a new level of pathetic, and Jenny really wished she could be cool in the face of supernatural apparitions. She stared at Cairn as if there was something very wrong with her, even though her suggestion was somehow extremely levelheaded. Being cool and levelheaded in a situation like this, however, felt absolutely ridiculous to her.

It took her a little while to consider the other’s suggestion, looking at the question in the book. It was clear what it was getting at — or at least, it was easy for her to connect the question to her own life. There was no way the book knew her inner workings or her wants, right? What she wanted was immortality. “Fine,” she began, holding up the book as if it was a toddler she was addressing: “As far as I need to.” A vague answer, but she didn’t want to get into the nitty gritty details with neither the stranger or the book.

She put the book down again, where she and Cairn could look at it. It was demanding, it seemed, vaguely requesting a second answer. Hers was short but similar. Jenny hoped that was enough. 

“Happy now?” That was directed at the book, though maybe also at the stranger who had dragged her here. She shook it a little. Then, at Cairn: “Do you reckon it’s electronic?” They had smart devices in all shapes and sizes, why not also books?

It is not mine you should be concerned with.Far you will go: how will you return?

—

“Electronic?” Cairn echoed, the word sitting wrong in her mouth. With her loose grasp on the concept of electronics, calling the book electronic made it stranger, not necessarily more rational, than if someone had simply said it was magic.

Yet, despite them unable to figure out the source, the book still spoke. Or rather, typed.

How will you return?

Cairn watched the words form across the page. Where were they going? What did return even mean?

Tied by threads you chose to knot?Or frayed at every edge?

The next words lit up on the page before settling in ink as if finalizing their fate. She glanced sideways at the other girl, wondering what the words meant, wondering what she was thinking about. She was clearly panicked and Cairn knew this whole situation was cause for some concern but had her way of hiding it deeper than what was visible.

A low rumble stirred in the air and Cairn looked down just in time to see the book tremble. Its pages rustled violently only to slam shut with a loud, final clap.

The lights above them flickered back to life. The heavy door creaked open. Cairn turned toward it, half expecting to see someone standing in the frame. But there was no one. Just the rest of the library that was hidden from them moments earlier.

“We should get out of here.” she instructed, breaking the silence that formed, partly for Jenny, partly for herself.

In the case that Jenny was too frightened to make the first step, she made it for them. Heading for the exit, Cairn assumed Jenny would have just left the book there, knowing it wasn’t in her hands so she felt no responsibility to take the book.

Sure, as always, curiosity nagged her but the last thing she wanted to do was be stuck in the room with a stranger for any longer.

She crossed the threshold, inhaling the cold, quiet scent of library dust. She glanced around, the area still devoid of others. It wasn't just the lights, something else had turned back on too.

“Jenny,” Cairn said, the name strange on her tongue, as if it held weight she didn’t usually give to words. She glanced over at her, her voice a little softer. “Do you need help getting out of here?”

—

It didn’t make sense. Plenty of things did not make sense, like the resurgence of some fashion trends or the fact that people drank matcha and actually liked it — but this was a whole different level of not-sense-making. Jenny watched more words appear on the page with little explanation for any of it, the words themselves riddles. 

“Dude, what the hell,” she muttered. She liked complicated text. She liked authors who overused their words and used convoluted sentences to tell a story. But this wasn’t something she was reading for leisure or study — this was a book asking her prying questions and then giving no context as to why it was even able to do that. 

The lights coming back on and the door opening shifted her priorities swiftly, though. Despite her generally poor survival instincts, Jenny was not planning on staying in a room that locked in on itself. “I’ll say,” she said, nodding heavily. She turned off the flashlight on her phone with a quick press on the touchscreen. Even under the overhead lights the word remained on the page. She touched them for a moment, wondering if her finger would come back ink-stained.

Cairn was already leaving, proving once more that she was the more levelheaded one between the two of them. (The bar was admittedly low.)  Jenny took a breath in, shoving the book in her bag without much hesitation. She wasn’t a thief, but she wasn’t going to walk up to the counter to ask to buy this book. An exception could be made.