Krygan had fallen asleep on a desk when my shift ended, his head resting softly on the cluttered surface. I didn't dare to say goodbye, uncertain about how close we had become or if I even wanted to be. After all, he had only shared his food with me—an act that felt more intimate than I was comfortable admitting. So I quietly slipped away, feeling a strange mix of relief and unease.
The following morning, I slept through the entire day, exhausted from the night shift. When I finally woke up and prepared to return to the library on Sunday night, I was surprised to find it bustling—more than I had expected for a weekend. At least five student assistants hurried through the aisles, their faces tense with focus.
"Is it usually like this on a night like this?" I asked one of the other assistants, a girl about my age, as she darted past with a stack of books.
She chuckled, adjusting her glasses. "Yeah. Tomorrow's Monday, and these are the 'crammers.' They cram for their weekend tasks. You know how students are."
I nodded, trying to shake off my fatigue. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered I had class tomorrow, but the thought was fleeting amid the chaos. I scanned the shelves for Krygan, hoping I might catch a glimpse of him—just to see he was okay—but he was nowhere in sight.
I was busy sorting returned books when someone's sharp knock at the counter made me jump. I looked up—and my stomach clenched. My face flushed with terror.
It was Hunter.
I cleared my throat, trying to sound as professional as I could. "How can I help you?"
Hunter just looked at me, puzzled and disappointed, his shoulder-length hair casting shadows across his handsome face. "Where is Madame Dewey?" he asked, voice calm but edged with impatience.
"She's away for the weekend," I answered quickly, hoping he'd get the hint and leave.
He was unfazed. "I need to go inside the Forbidden Records."
My brow furrowed. "It's forbidden for a reason."
Suddenly, a student assistant appeared, clutching a small chest box. She placed it in front of him and Hunter hovered his hand over it and suddenly, it opened. She picked up the key inside and handed it to Hunter without a word.
I blinked in surprise. "I thought we weren't allowed to do that," I whispered, glancing at her with suspicion.
She shot me a secretive look, eyes darting around before whispering, "Well, except for them—the Sagrados."
"The Sagrados?" I echoed, feeling my heart skip a beat.
"Yeah. Members of the sacred families. Only four of them here, anyway. Hunter, Hudson, Krygan, and Calixta. Please follow him and make sure he doesn't do anything he's not supposed to."
My stomach twisted. "How would I know that he's not supposed to do it? I'm only new here, only until tonight." A flicker of fear crept in—my interactions with Hunter had always been tense, sometimes even life-threatening.
"Everyone's too busy to accompany him. Just watch him from afar. Make sure he doesn't take anything." The girl's eyes flickered with warning before she disappeared into the shadows.
I hesitated, then reluctantly trailed after Hunter as he approached the elevator. His hand moved swiftly to the keypad, entering the code, and then he pressed the basement floor button.
Hunter was standing regally inside the elevator, hoping that it would close so I wouldn't have to follow him. But the doors refused to shut. They stayed open, as if mocking my hesitation. I stood at the corner, heart pounding in my chest, desperately hoping he wouldn't notice or, worse, decide to speak to me.
The ride down felt like an eternity. The silence was thick, almost oppressive. Then, in a deep, measured voice, Hunter broke it.
"May I ask where you're from?"
I stiffened. No, I didn't have to tell him the truth, right? I hesitated, then whispered, "I'm Kelsey's cousin," hoping that would be enough.
But Hunter wasn't satisfied. His tone was sharper now. "That's not what I asked."
My stomach clenched. I gulped, trying to find the right words. "I came from where Kelsey's from," I mumbled, clutching the elevator's handle so tightly my knuckles turned white. I was praying he'd drop it, that he'd realize I wasn't going to tell him more.
Suddenly, the elevator lurched violently. The lights flickered, and the floor beneath us seemed to shake. The sudden jolt threw me off balance, and I instinctively pushed Hunter away—he slammed into the door as the elevator came to an abrupt halt and opened.
We tumbled to the floor outside the elevator, dust swirling around us. Hunter grunted as he hit the ground, then quickly pushed himself up, brushing dirt off his shirt.
"Can you be clumsier?" he muttered, irritation flickering behind his concealed expression. His face was still shadowed, unreadable.
I scrambled to my feet, heart racing, trying to keep my composure.
Hunter kept walking ahead, leaving me behind in stunned silence. I stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what I was seeing. I don't think I'd ever been in a place like this before.
Before me stretched a grand staircase, spiraling down into an even darker, more mysterious level. The high walls lining the hall were lined with rows upon rows of ancient books—bindings cracked and faded but still somehow alive with history. Pillars carved with angels and demons stood at intervals, their stone faces frozen in eternal watchfulness, as if guarding secrets beyond mortal comprehension.
My eyes drifted downward, drawn to the display cases lining the corridor. Inside, human-sized rectangular glass prisms held relics of old—battle-worn axes, bows, arrows, swords, shields, and even ancient warrior's armor, all gleaming as if they'd just been forged. The craftsmanship was exquisite, yet there was an aura of age and power that made my skin crawl.
I hesitated only a moment before following Hunter toward the end of the hall. He stopped before a massive, ornate desk topped with a large, ancient-looking book resting on a golden podium. The book was as thick as a brick, its cover adorned with intricate carvings, and a small, mysterious keyhole in the center.
Hunter reached into his coat and pulled out a key. Without a word, he inserted it into the lock and turned. The cover creaked open with a slow, deliberate sound, revealing pages that appeared blank at first glance. He began flipping through them, his eyes scanning every inch of the parchment with intense focus.
I grew bored waiting, so I wandered around casually, stealing glances at Hunter to make sure he stayed put—especially that he didn't take anything he wasn't supposed to. My eyes drifted toward a corner of the hall, where an imposing marble statue of a warrior stood tall, clutching a metal sword pointed to the ground. Its expression was fierce, frozen in eternal vigilance.
Behind it, a colossal portrait caught my eye. It depicted a regal couple—perhaps royalty—seated on a throne. The woman had long, flowing white hair, her face calm yet commanding. Standing behind her was a man, also with white hair, holding her crown delicately in one hand and resting the other on her shoulder. Their gazes seemed to pierce through the painting, as if watching everything happening in this strange place.
Suddenly, Hunter broke the silence with a sharp, commanding voice.
"I'm done," he said, turning away from the book.
We began walking back toward the staircase when a loud bang suddenly shattered the eerie quiet behind us. Both of us froze, exchanging tense glances. Something was wrong. Instinctively, I hid behind Hunter, knowing he had powers—power I hoped I wouldn't need to see right now.
The bang was quickly followed by a series of metallic clanging sounds—like objects tumbling and crashing to the ground. The lights flickered ominously, casting long shadows across the hall. The atmosphere grew colder, and a deafening screeching noise filled the air, as if the very walls were protesting. My hair stood on end, and chills ran down my spine.
I clung to Hunter's back, my grip tight and desperate. I didn't care if I was uncomfortable—I just wanted to survive. Hunter didn't seem to mind my grip; in fact, he seemed focused, his hands opening and clenching as if channeling energy.
Suddenly, I saw it—a dark, floating shape in the air. It resembled a torn black cloth, but from within the fabric, two glowing blue eyes stared at us with an unearthly intensity. My heartbeat thundered in my ears as I watched in horror.
Hunter's eyes widened. He clenched his fists, and a burst of energy erupted from his palms, crackling with raw power.
"Call somebody outside," he commanded urgently, voice strained. "Tell them—it's a Noir emergency!"
I fished my phone out of my back pocket, trembling. I tried to call Kelsey, but the call couldn't get through. I tried all my contacts but still nothing.
"No signal!" I yelled, panic creeping into my voice. My mind raced—what was this thing? Why now? And more importantly—how were we going to get out of here alive?