The Forgotten Library

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Episode 3: The Forgotten Library

The next evening, Sora stood in front of the abandoned university library, gripping the black rose tightly.

It had been years since anyone had stepped inside. The grand structure, once a symbol of knowledge and curiosity, now stood forgotten, covered in vines and shadows. The "No Trespassing" sign swung slightly in the cool night breeze, but Sora ignored it.

Her eyes flickered down to the note tied to the rose.

"Find me."

Raven’s handwriting.

She swallowed hard. Could he really be here? Was this some cruel joke?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the rusted gate. It groaned in protest, sending a chill down her spine. Every instinct told her to turn back, to leave this place behind—but something stronger pulled her forward.

The library doors were slightly ajar. A cold draft slipped through the gap, carrying the scent of aged paper and dust. She stepped inside, her footsteps echoing in the silence.

Inside, the library felt frozen in time. Rows of forgotten bookshelves stretched into the darkness, their spines coated in years of neglect. A broken chandelier hung overhead, its crystals catching faint moonlight. The reading tables were coated in dust, untouched.

Memories flooded back.

She had spent countless nights here with Raven, whispering secrets between the shelves, laughing over mystery novels, dreaming about the future. But the last time she had been here… he had vanished.

Her heart clenched.

She wasn’t here for nostalgia. She was here for answers.

That’s when she noticed it—a flickering candle on the center table.

Sora’s breath hitched.

Someone had been here recently.

She moved closer, her hands trembling. Beside the candle lay a stack of old, yellowed papers. The handwriting was unmistakable.

Raven’s.

She hesitated before picking up the top page. The ink was slightly smudged, but the words sent a shiver through her spine:

"If you're reading this, it means you're searching for me. But some things are better left in the dark."

Her fingers curled around the paper.

The next sheet wasn’t a letter—it was a drawing.

A woman.

Long, flowing hair. Eyes filled with sorrow.

Sora’s chest tightened. She knew this face.

But from where?

She flipped to the final page. Unlike the others, it contained just one word.

"RUN."

The candle’s flame flickered violently, as if responding to the message.

Then—

A thud.

A heavy, unmistakable sound from the upper floor.

Sora’s breath caught. Her body went rigid.

Someone was here.

Slowly, she tilted her head upward, toward the spiral staircase leading to the second level.

The shadows shifted.

Her blood ran cold. A figure stood at the top of the stairs, barely visible in the dim light.

Sora’s heart pounded against her ribs.

She took a step back.

The floor creaked beneath her feet.

The figure moved.

A surge of panic gripped her, but she forced herself to stay rooted. She needed to see, to know who it was.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Close.

"You shouldn't have come, Sora."

Her breath hitched.

She spun around, eyes darting through the darkness.

But no one was there.

Only the candle remained, flickering wildly as if mocking her fear.

Her grip on the papers tightened.

Someone wanted her to run.

But she wasn’t leaving until she uncovered the truth.

Even if it meant facing the ghosts of her past.

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