Halloween Tales

Happening Tales

Veronica sighed as she gazed out of the rain-streaked window of the university library. The downpour outside was relentless, and she knew that her plans for the evening had just taken an unexpected turn.

"Sorry, Peter! I think I'm gonna have to stay the night. Rain check?" Veronica informed Peter on the phone. Just an hour ago, she had been excited about the prospect of a cozy dinner date with him, but now she found herself tasked with covering the night shift at the library. Willy, the usual night-shift worker, had to leave due to a family emergency. It was a weekend night, and the new semester had just begun, so Veronica anticipated that most students would be out enjoying the campus nightlife. The library was virtually deserted at this hour, with only a few stray students who didn't live in the dorms lingering around during the day.

After a brief dinner, Veronica felt the weight of boredom settle in. She decided to make her usual rounds through the library, checking for any remaining students. Some of them stayed late to study, while others used the quiet hours for secret rendezvous. Veronica was meticulous about keeping the library in order, so she took the opportunity to ensure everything was in its proper place.

As she moved from section to section, from technology to medicine to science, she eventually reached the literature section, her favorite spot. She had a deep familiarity with every book in that section, having read nearly all of them. In fact, she was so well-acquainted with the collection that she often boasted about it to her colleagues, who teased her for her lack of a social life.

While making her rounds, Veronica noticed a book on the top shelf that was out of place. Its spine bore no title, piquing her curiosity. She reached up to retrieve it and saw that the cover read, "Happening Tales" by Prekshak. She had never seen this book before, and the absence of any information on the back cover intrigued her even more. She decided to investigate further and opened the book.

Inside, she found a small handwritten note, its ink still fresh and smudged. Her interest grew, and she turned to the prologue to learn more about this mysterious book's contents. The prologue read,

"I canceled my date, surrendering to the magnetic pull of the library's solitary embrace. It had become a ritual for me, a peculiar dance with monotony, to roam the dimly lit aisles, checking for the lingering souls who sought refuge within the silent realm of books. As I ventured into the heart of the library, my footsteps echoing softly, an enigmatic crimson tome materialized before me, as if summoned from the darkest depths of literary obscurity.

My curiosity, a relentless mistress, compelled me to unlock the secrets held within those pages."

Veronica found herself drawn into the narrative. The author's words mirrored her own actions, and it made her chuckle. She decided to take the book to her desk on the first floor. It was now 9 PM, and the library was eerily quiet. The silence fueled her desire to delve deeper into the book's story. Little did she know that the events described in the prologue were about to become her own reality.

She continued reading – "The book's contents beckoned me with a beguiling allure, a siren's call that promised amusement and mirth. With each word, each sentence, I found myself ensnared, the story weaving its tendrils around my consciousness. It was humorous and oddly relatable.

Transfixed, I decided to carry the book to my desk on the first floor, unaware of the sinister symphony that played out in the shadows. The clock's hands marked the hour as 9, casting an eerie silence over the library's hallowed halls. The very stillness that had once offered solace now morphed into an unsettling void, driving me deeper into the narrative's clutches.

But in my fervor for the tale's continuation, I remained oblivious to the looming malevolence lurking just beyond the library's threshold. Unbeknownst to me, the Masked Man, an entity shrouded in darkness and malice, stood vigil outside, patient and predatory. My existence, unbeknownst to me, hung in precarious balance.

Suddenly, the air was pierced by an ominous cacophony—stern, deliberate footsteps, the dreadful scrape of a heavy, metal crowbar across the unforgiving floor. The dissonant echoes reverberated in the stillness, growing fainter with each passing moment, yet a chilling shadow steadily advanced towards the library's entrance.

My time was slipping away, the narrative unraveling into a realm where fiction and reality entwined."

The prologue ended there, and just when she was ready to go all in, a masked figure with heavy boots stood just outside her window, clutching a metal rod. As she read on, she heard loud footsteps pacing away. The heavy footsteps seemed to be going farther, and Veronica's heart raced. She had no idea that her leisurely reading would lead to such a terrifying encounter. The prologue had described this very scene, and panic washed over her as she realized that the events in the book might be playing out in real life.

Desperate to protect herself, Veronica rushed upstairs to find a hiding place under one of the long desks. She clutched her phone and dialed campus security, but her calls went unanswered. Frustration and fear mounted as she tried repeatedly, finally reaching someone on the other end. However, the voice on the line was drowned out by the sounds of a raucous party, and the call abruptly ended. Veronica was alone, trapped in a nightmarish version of the library.

With no other options, she returned to the book, frantically flipping through the pages to find answers. In her haste, she discovered names that were eerily similar to those of people she knew. The protagonist's experiences mirrored her own, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this book hold a sinister power over her.

With each chapter, the tale shifted, revealing a sinister perspective from the Masked Man's point of view. It was as if she could hear his thoughts, sense his malevolent presence lurking just outside. Panic welled up within her as she realized that the boundaries of reality had dissolved entirely, and she was trapped within a narrative where the Masked Man was very much real.

Desperation gnawed at her as she raced through the pages, searching for answers, a way out. The book seemed to anticipate her every move, leading her deeper into a nightmarish labyrinth of corridors and hidden secrets. The realization dawned upon her that the book was not just a story; it was a twisted game, and she was a pawn caught in its web.

She skipped to the end of the book, where the final line sent a shiver down her spine: "If only I didn't read the book under the desk that night, maybe I would still be alive." Her heart skipped a beat.

The sound of footsteps drew closer, and she knew that the Masked Man was closing in. Her only chance of survival lay in the book itself, in understanding its dark secrets and finding a way to break free from its malevolent grip. But time was running out, so she put down the book and got ready to confront the Masked Man, who was a few steps away from her now, holding down the bloody tool in the left hand.

In the dimly lit library, Veronica's voice reverberated as she shouted, "Reveal yourself! I want to see the killer before I die. I deserve a chance to fight back too!" Her words hung in the air, a desperate challenge to the unseen menace.

The brooding figure in the mask responded with a chilling, menacing laugh. Slowly, with deliberation, the figure began to remove the mask that concealed his identity. Veronica's breath quickened, anticipation mingling with fear as she braced herself for the revelation.

As the mask slightly came off, Veronica's eyes widened in disbelief. She staggered back, her voice caught in her throat. Before her stood a figure with a face marred by horrifying, bloody scars that stretched from above the ear to the upper lip. It was a visage of grotesque disfigurement and suffering.

With trembling hands, Veronica reached out, her fingers brushing against the scars as she began to remove the mask completely. Her heart raced, and her breath caught in her chest as the truth unveiled itself. The face that stared back at her from beneath the mask was undeniably her own, but it was a grotesque, nightmarish version of herself, marred by pain and terror.

The revelation sent shockwaves through her, leaving her frozen in disbelief. How could this be? She was staring into her own gory, distorted reflection, and it defied all reason and comprehension. The library's eerie silence seemed to mock her, as if it had conspired with the malevolent book to conjure this horrifying twist of fate.

Veronica's mind raced, struggling to make sense of the inexplicable. With her own gory visage before her, Veronica was left with a haunting question: What twisted force had brought her to this horrifying point, and what could possibly lie ahead in this nightmarish tale?

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Another prompt from Olivia_Benedetti's Halloween Bash Content ✔️