The Librarian of the Haunted Library: A Supernatural Suspense Comedy (Strangely Scary Funny Book 1) by Brian Yansky

Author:Brian Yansky [Yansky, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Keeping It Weird
Published: 2023-06-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

I walked on in the direction the witch had pointed, which seemed like the right direction for me. That was important because if you took directions from a one-eyed witch, you had to be prepared for disappointment. I wandered around for a few hours before I met a crow named Leonard who gave me more directions. I’d asked him, of course. He didn’t just fly up to me.

“Do all animals and trees talk in this haunted woods?” I said.

“Not all crows or all trees,” he said. “In fact, there are relatively few of us in the whole woods. It’s interesting you happened to find us.”

“I’m good at finding things,” I said. “The cabin is the exception.”

“Maybe there’s a reason.”

I asked him what, and he shrugged. A crow was a good shape for shrugging. I think I may have understood that shrug. It was a “how should I know I’m a crow,” shrug.

“Any idea how far it is?” I said.

“About ten minutes as the crow flies,” he said and flew off.

It took me about sixty, but then I wasn’t a crow.

It was really more like a house than a cabin. A pretty good-sized one with a wrap-around porch. It looked very out of place in the haunted woods because it was modern and woods were not. The woods were old. There were four steps up to the porch.

I went up the stairs and knocked on the door. No one answered. I walked around the porch looking in windows without getting too close to them.

“Anyone home?” I shouted several times.

No one answered.

I went back to the front door and tried it. The door creaked open. I wondered if it was a requirement of all doors on the mountain that they creep.

“Anyone home?” I shouted again. On the third shout, I heard screaming.

It seemed someone was home, after all. The house was rustic, with a big living room and a kitchen off to the side. The living room had a fireplace that took up most of one wall. The woods seemed to be closing up around the cabin in the back.

I followed the screaming. In the kitchen, I found a door that opened up to a dark cellar. It had a pungent odor of sweaty socks and stagnate swamp water. I turned on the light. It didn’t work. I didn’t have my phone. I’d left it at the library. Now that I couldn’t use it for calling or texting or the internet, it had lost most of its importance.

I should have brought it to the woods with me, though. I had to feel my way down the stairs. A railing would have helped. At the bottom, I found a light switch. A single dull lightbulb at the far end of the room flipped on. It was dull because it was red and the glow it gave off was tinted.

“What the fuck, man?” a boy said. “We’ve been screaming our heads off.”

“Just get us out of here,” a girl ordered.

“More lights?” I said to her.

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