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The library of lost souls

By Emma Djukic, September 16 2024—

Surely, assigning three lab reports during finals week was illegal—maybe even banned by the Geneva Convention alongside other war crimes. Unfortunately, Helen was yet to find such a legal precedent anywhere and gingerly plugged her wheezing 2014 Macbook Air with a fraying charging cord and looked around the deserted library. Finals season was tough; being a woman in STEM was all fun and games until you practically lived in the library. Helen dreaded this time of the semester. She had considered dropping out and selling feet pictures online, but decided she wasn’t that desperate just yet.

Suddenly, her laptop pinged with a low battery notification. Panicked, she checked the power cord, but the flashing red icon remained. Helen cursed the library’s faulty outlets.

She packed her things and hurried to find a new spot. The other bleary-eyed students hardly noticed her as she ventured deeper into the stacks. Just as she was about to turn back and use the last of her battery to look up what a premium OnlyFans account would cost, she stumbled across a wooden bookshelf. Not recognizing the language on the spines, she shifted closer to inspect the collection. As she pulled the spine to get a better look, the shelf groaned and swung inwards to reveal a stone cavern hidden behind.

Helen gasped, nearly dropping her anemic laptop. She practically lived in the library and was certain she had never seen this shelf before. Where did it lead?

“Do it for the plot!” she thought, turning on her phone flashlight. Gingerly, Helen ventured into the cavern, glancing back every few steps to make sure the door wouldn’t seal her in.

She soon encountered a curving staircase leading downward and began her descent. 

Suddenly, the stairs ended, and Helen entered an underground chamber. The walls were covered in books, similar to those on the shelf upstairs, but these ones looked older. There was an unmistakable thrum of energy in the air, and Helen’s jaw dropped.

“Who dares enter the sacred chamber?” a deep, echoing voice boomed behind her. Nearly dropping her laptop as she yelped, Helen turned around to see a man—except he was transparent, with a silvery sheen. Was he a ghost?

“Trespasser! Like the others, you seek to steal the secrets of the dead!” he declared, puffing out his chest.

“Hi,” Helen squeaked. “I’m not here to steal your books. I’m just looking for a working outlet.”

“You are not here to raise the dead?”

“Nope. I really need to finish my lab reports.”

“You’d rather finish your lab report than uncover the secrets of the dead?”

“Do you know how much my tuition costs? Is there a working outlet here or not?”

Looking dejected, the ghost pointed to the corner. Helen sighed in relief as she plugged in her laptop and began typing. She would make her deadline after all! The ghost watched her glumly for a moment before floating away, muttering, “Centuries of guarding secrets, only to be reduced to a glorified electrician!”

This article is part of our humour section.


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