64 Hours

17 H0urs

                                                    Dedicated to RachelS8766 for the glamorous cover.

"There is more treasure in books than in all the pirate's loot on Treasure Island." -Walt Disney

It's dead quiet in here. 

Well, if you take out the sound of Bella nagging at Aria for books. Apart from that, all you could hear was the shuffling of feet, the sound of pages being flicked, and a hushed murmur of staff communication. And I liked it. 

I left my sister and niece alone as they argued, and surged into the place. There were thousands of books, and I didn't know where to start. I awkwardly stood in front of the mystery books section, regarding to the huge banner stating the section name, my eyes scanning each one the spine labels. They all sounded strange to me. 

"Which one is the best?" I muttered out loud without noticing. Whenever I was forced to go to a library with Aria, she forced me to pick a book. Usually when that happened I literally judged a book by it's cover, pissing my sister off. But now I can't exactly get away with some shallow criminal book. Besides, ever cover page was plain and sophisticated. 

"Are you looking for some popular mysteries?" A voice came from behind me. I turned my head around to see an elderly man, in his eighties and least, standing a bit crookedly with a sideways glance. His voice was barely audible, even in the silence, but I could still hear it.

"Uh, yeah," I responded casual, but I sounded a bit too lame. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes, do you know any realistic ones?" 

"I sure do, son," The elder said, standing beside me and having a look at the books sitting in front of us. He fiddled with his glasses, pushing them onto the bridge of his nose and leaning forward to get a better look. After what seemed like forever, he grasped one book with his frail hand and slid it out of it's place. 

"This was one of my old favorites. You can never go wrong with Agatha Christie." He nodded at me, his thin lips strained into a smile, and patted a shoulder. 

"Thank you, sir," I thanked him, and took a better look at the book. It was called 'And Then There Were None." 

I frowned at the promising title. As soon as the old man was out of sight, I flipped through the pages and took random peeks at some lines. My eyes focused on the set of lines, the word 'hanged' catching my attention. 

"One little Indian left all alone, he went out and hanged himself and then there were none."

There was no resemblance in this to my situation. Nevertheless, I continued to look through the pages. 

"Crime is terribly revealing. Try and vary your methods as you will, your tastes, your habits, your attitude of mind, and your soul is revealed by your actions."

That can't link to texts in any way. My eyes fell down the page. 

"In the midst of life, we are in death."

"The damned fool, he believed every word I said to him. It was easy ... I must be careful, though, very careful."

"Why did I never see his face properly before? A wolf – that's what it is – a wolf's face ... Those horrible teeth ..."

"I was born with other traits besides my romantic fancy. I have a definite sadistic delight in seeing or causing death."

"One of us in this very room is in fact the murderer."

I snapped the book shut, my brain swimming. It's like those sentences lead to a mind-overload, and I couldn't take it. It wasn't helping. I couldn't understand most of them, probably because of the fact that I hadn't read the story properly, but I could face some of them. 

But only one of them stuck in my head.

"One of us in this very room is in fact the murderer." 

What if that applied to my situation - that someone was betraying me, someone I loved, and I didn't even know it? 

What would I do then? 

*Sorry for the short chapter :(*