Scarred Memories

a dark rumor revealed

The Cypress public library was a melting pot of people, the smell of books and leather mixing with the conversations of the vagabonds and the wealthy older residents of the nearby neighborhood. Aaron had recently started working at the library. He was a junior at Cypress High, just around the corner from it. Passing by one day, he’d noticed a sign in the window that read––Now Hiring, Morning Book Returns, Hours Flexible. He’d been looking for a job and what could be easier than working at a library. Before he knew it, Jayde, the head librarian and a friend of his mother, was shaking his hand. He could do it before school and he started the very next day. Aaron was excited to have a little extra coin in his pocket and liked that he could do it before the day even started, leaving the rest of his day open.

After a couple of weeks learning the ropes, Jayde gave him his own key. She wasn’t really a morning person, she explained. This allowed him to come in without her and process the returned books from the bin. Aaron had grown up in town, and as a kid, he heard the rumors at grade school. Rumors that kids would go to the library and never leave, but he just dismissed them as nonsense. People would be in an uproar if kids actually went missing. Still, it felt unsettling being at the library alone, before sunrise. He would often just get his work done as quickly as he could and leave. That was his routine. Then something happened, which is often likely when you leave a teenager in charge, but it’s not like it was Aaron’s fault.

It all started when he found a suspicious note in the book return with his name scrawled on it in a chaotic manner. A shiver ran up his spine, not certain who’d left it for him, but whoever did clearly knew he’d be the first to see it. The darkness from the streets outside seeped in, and he found himself wishing he wasn’t alone. He even wished Jayde were there, even though the kids in town said she was a witch. Not to her face, of course, only when she wasn’t around because the rumor was she ate little kids who came to the library. Kids and their rumors can be so cruel, but rumors have a way of starting with some grain of truth. He opened the letter slowly and unfolded it to find the same scrawling handwriting on the note. All it read was––There is a door in the basement. Use this key, find the truth of Kali.

Immediately as he finished reading the last word, the note and envelope flashed with a purple light and in a puff of smoke they vanished. Aaron pushed back in his chair from the table.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, even though no one was there to hear him.

Where the letter had been sat a black iron key decorated in the design of a female with tusks, three eyes and four arms, and what looked like talons for fingers. The same shiver flushed over him as he looked at the key, his mind racing. What just happened? He didn’t believe in magic or superstitions or anything occult like that, but how could he explain this? He slowly reached out for the key, and when he touched it, he immediately flinched as visions of death and misery flashed in his mind.

“It’s just a key. It’s just a key,” he reassured himself as he reached out and picked it up, this time with no ominous visions. His hand ran over the detailed ironwork of the key. It was heavy and the eyes, all three of them, seemed to move as if they were watching him. His finger ran down one arm to feel the sharp point of the talon. Strangely, there was a door in the basement that was always locked, but he’d been told it was a janitor’s closet. There was nothing sinister about a closet full of mops and buckets and toilet paper and such. But now, with the disappearing letter and feeling the cold weight of the iron key in his hand, he couldn’t help but wonder.

With a creak, he rose from the rickety wooden chair and approached the steps to the basement. Looking down, the basement was shrouded in darkness. A chill went up his spine as he swore he felt the key move in his hand. With a deep breath, he flicked on the lights and the old florescent bulbs hummed to life, revealing a narrow wooden staircase. The library behind him was quiet as he slowly crept down the stairs, sweat pooling in his hand around the key.

“What the hell!” Aaron said as he felt the key move again just before he dropped it, watching it clank down the stairs and skitter across the basement out of sight. He reached for the railing, still trying to convince himself whether the key moved or he’d just imagined it. Shrugging it off, and he pressed onward down the stairs. Now a bit more cautiously, a bit more uncertain about the world, but at the same time intrigued and curious about the unfolding moments.

Stepping into the basement, the glow from the stairs filtered into the room casting shadows haphazardly about as he looked for the key, finding it had skittered to a stop on the floor by the janitor’s closet. Aaron stepped forward, his eyes darting from side to side. The room was lined with shelves of books which melded into nothingness, indiscernible from one another in the veiled light. He heard the scratch of metal on a plate as his eyes flicked to the key, which was still at rest by the door, but weirdly it seemed closer to him now. Blocking out his hesitations, he picked up the key, sliding it in the lock. With a quick turn of the knob, he opened the door.

Inside was complete darkness––the kind that would pool at the bottom of the ocean on the darkest of nights. Where are the buckets, the mops, the toilet paper? He jumped as he heard a clank behind him and turned to see the key lying on the floor, its three eyes peering up at him. He picked it up, and then turned, stepping into the closet, quickly realizing that it wasn’t a closet. It was a hallway, slowly revealing itself to him as torches ensconced in skulls along the wall sprang to life one by one, casting a dim light down the hallway ending in a nondescript chamber. Did those torches just light themselves? He thought. And torches, who uses torches anymore? But then the words from the scrawled note hit him squarely––find the truth of Kali.

He took a tentative step forward and jumped, surprised to feel his watch vibrating on his arm. It was almost time for Jayde to arrive. Ever since she’d caught him snoozing one morning, he’d used his watch to wake him before she arrived. Stepping back, he closed the door using the strange key to lock it before scrambling up the stairs, extinguishing the light on the way. He settled in his chair just as a key rattled in the door to the library. A moment later, Jayde emerged, closing the door behind her as Aaron glanced at his table. The unchecked books spread out before him and the iron key sat at rest by them. His eyes flashed toward her as he wiped the perspiration from his brow. Her eyes settled on him, but her coat had caught in the door, and she let out an indecipherable curse before turning to reopen it. It was just enough time for him to slide the key off the table into the safety of his back pocket, uncertain what to share with her about it as he rose to his feet.

“Morning Jayde.”

“Good morning, Aaron.” she said, her eyes catching the stack of returned books that had not been checked in, or re-shelved, as was expected prior to her arrival. “I see you’ve been sleeping again?”

He shrugged his shoulders, preferring that explanation over the truth for the moment. Aaron returned to his table, processing the books and returning them to their homes. As he stood shelving the last of the books, his mind raced, wondering what could have been in the chamber at the end of the hall when an icy blade slide across his neck. Looking down, he saw a black talon at his throat––a talon just like the one on the key which, until a second ago, had been hidden in his back pocket, but now her hand slid in, removing it.

“If I didn’t know your mother, this would go down differently,” she whispered. He could feel her hot breath on his ear as her talon pressed sharply into his neck, drawing a droplet of blood that crawled down his neck. The small grain of truth now replaced with a boulder. “If you ever come back to this place or speak to anyone about it––it will be the last thing you ever do. Now go and don’t look back.” The talon released from his throat, and she pushed him toward the door.

Aaron grabbed his backpack, following her instructions literally. He ran through the door into the morning sunlight never returning to that library or speaking of it to anyone. To this day, on quiet mornings, he still finds himself wondering whether it was real, but a touch to the small scar on his neck reminds him. Some memories are best left in the dark.

Psst! Me again. If you enjoyed this, I’d really appreciate it if you’d consider subscribing and sharing it with a few friends.