Chapter 5 – The Whispering Library

The morning sun did little to calm Anya’s nerves. The events in the bell tower still pressed against her chest, a weight she couldn’t shake. Every shadow in the hallway seemed to twitch as she walked, every flicker of light a warning.

Elias was waiting outside the library, leaning casually against the stone archway. His dark hair fell over his forehead, but his sharp eyes flicked to her the moment she appeared.

“You came,” he said, voice calm, almost too calm.

“I couldn’t stay in my dorm. I… I need answers,” she admitted.

He didn’t ask why. Instead, he nodded once and pushed open the heavy oak doors of the library.

Inside, the air was thick with dust and the scent of decaying paper. Light streamed through tall, arched windows, casting patterns across the rows of ancient books. Silence reigned here, except for the faint whisper of pages turning somewhere in the back.

Elias led her down narrow aisles. “Legends aren’t usually in textbooks. You have to know where to look.”

Anya followed, curiosity mixing uneasily with fear. The library felt alive, like it was watching them, listening to every word.

He stopped in front of a shelf tucked into the corner. “This section,” he said, running a finger along the worn spines, “contains records of the school’s history—mostly what the staff wants people to forget.”

Anya’s pulse quickened. She’d been searching for clues about the tower, about the voices, about… the shadows. Maybe this was where she’d find something.

Elias pulled out a book nearly as tall as her forearm, bound in dark leather. The cover had no title, only a faint symbol embossed in the corner: a bell, twisted into a spiral.

“This one,” he whispered, “talks about the first disappearance at Ravenswood—before the current rumors started.”

The pages were brittle, the ink faded, but the words were clear enough to make her skin crawl.

“…the student vanished without trace, last seen near the east tower. Whispers followed her until the next morning. Those who heard the sound were forever changed, silent, wary of the bell…”

Anya swallowed. “That’s… that’s exactly what happened to me.”

Elias didn’t answer. Instead, he traced the illustrations on the pages—floor plans of the tower, corridors she had walked, and doors that shouldn’t exist.

Her eyes widened. “How… how does it know?”

He finally met her gaze. “It doesn’t know. It remembers. The building itself remembers. It opens where it wants, chooses its targets. You—” he hesitated, “you should have left after the fourth toll.”

Her heart skipped. “Why didn’t you leave me?”

He looked away, jaw tight. “Because someone has to keep you from being eaten by it.”

Her breath caught. His tone was neither boastful nor friendly. It carried weight. An unspoken warning.

A sudden rustle made them both freeze. A book slid from a high shelf and hit the floor with a hollow thud. Neither moved immediately, but the sound repeated, echoing through the aisles.

“Not again,” Elias muttered, stepping toward the noise. He bent down to pick up the book. The cover was blank, but the pages inside were scribbled in a strange, spidery script.

Anya leaned closer. Her eyes widened as the words seemed to crawl across the page, shifting as though alive. Whispers rose around them, faint but distinct—an undercurrent of voices that made her ears ring.

“Don’t read it,” Elias hissed.

But curiosity overrode fear. Anya’s fingers brushed the page, and a chill ran through her. The whispers intensified, forming words:

“Stay… stay… or join…”

She yanked her hand back. The book thumped onto the floor. The voices stopped instantly, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake.

Elias’s eyes were dark. “Some records are traps. The school doesn’t just want to hide its secrets—it wants to guard them.”

Her chest ached. “Why are you helping me?”

He didn’t answer at first. Then, softly, almost a whisper to himself: “Because if it finds you alone again… you won’t survive.”

Anya looked up at him, the weight of his words sinking in. She realized something about Elias: he wasn’t just knowledgeable—he was experienced. He had seen the horrors firsthand. Survived them. And yet, he kept moving forward.

The library’s silence shifted again, like the building exhaling. Shadows stretched along the walls. The tall windows rattled as though something heavy had passed by.

Elias pulled her toward the nearest exit. “Come on. The longer we stay, the more attention we draw. The building doesn’t like witnesses.”

As they stepped into the corridor, a faint echo followed them: a bell toll.

Not the clock. Not the tower. Somewhere inside Ravenswood itself.

Anya’s stomach dropped. She realized with sudden clarity: she was no longer alone in this.

And the school… the school knew.

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