The Curator lay lifeless in Marceline’s arms, but his last words still stung worse than any of the books he had slung at her. Despite her anger, she covered the Curator with his hood and crossed his arms across his chest.
She stood up and thought for a moment.
She looked at the door to the Library she had just left and said, “Well, I guess I gotta go back in there.”
Stepping back into the Library, the air felt very different. It was considerably colder than when she left and seemed more dense, as if the fog from outside had crept in through the windows. The heavy air seemed to have extinguished the lamps. Their flames barely alight in the glass jars that were their prisons.
As her eyes adjusted, she noticed the books that were floating around before had also vanished. She could feel her stomach clench.
Suddenly a hard object slammed into her from behind and she stumbled over a table. As she rolled off the table onto the floor, something slammed into the spot where she just was. The table screeched across the floor from the impact.
She looked up in time to see one of the books flying directly towards her face, its cover wide open, jagged teeth bared. She rolled out of the way again and it slammed into the floor.
Marceline grabbed her sword out of its scabbard and raised it in front of her face, the blade facing away from her.
She heard another rush of air coming from the side and dodged out of the way, swinging wildly in the direction of the sound. She hit nothing. The anticipation of impact caused her to lose balance and she fell over again.
As she did, another book slammed into her leg, its razor sharp pages digging into her thigh.
Screaming, she slammed the hilt of the sword against the book and it let go. She struggled to get up, a piercing pain began to throb in her leg.
She brought her sword up again, to try and shield her face. As she did, she noticed a glint off the blade and realized there was a covered window nearby.
She stumbled towards the window, wincing everytime she put weight on her leg. She was only a few feet away from the window, when another book slammed into her back. She fell forward, catching herself with her hands. Just inches away from smashing her head into the wall. Her sword fell and slid away. The metal clanging on the ground extinguishing the last bit of hope.
She was on her hands and knees on the ground in front of the window and she could hear the sound of an approaching book. For a moment, she imagined its teeth tearing into her ribcage, ending her adventure forever.
With all the strength she could find, she rolled on her back and kicked upwards as the book flew past her. Her kick changed the trajectory and it slammed into the window and out into the night.
The light from the full moon radiated into the library, exposing the positions of all the haunted tomes inside. Grinning, she rolled towards her sword, grabbed it and stood up. The glow from the moon created a silhouette against the window.
The books began rushing towards her, but now that she could see them clearly they were incredibly easy to slice in half.
As the last of the books fell to the ground in a gasping thud, Marceline let out a sigh of relief and collapsed onto the floor. The embers of the lamps in the room began to find a new flame and slowly flickered back into life. However, her vision had started to become blurry and dark. She lost consciousness surrounded by the severed pieces of her enemies.
Marceline woke back up to a warmly lit room. She put her hand on the leg where the book had attempted to eat her. The blood was dry, but it was still throbbing. She slowly stood up, careful not to put too much weight on it.
She picked up one of the chairs that had been knocked over and dragged it over to the desk in the center of the room.
She slumped down into it and stared at nothing for a few moments, enjoying the warmth the lanterns around her were giving off.
Tearing open the fabric around her wound, she studied the injury. The capillarian ooze flowed like a slow river. She grabbed a flask from inside her coat and moved it over the wound. She breathed in deeply and poured some of the clear liquid over the wound. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth as a piercing burning took over her entire leg.
She pulled her blouse out of her pants and ripped off the bottom half. She then wrapped it around the wound and tied a knot to one side.
After sitting for a few minutes, she took the book out of her satchel and opened it up to the page that had the door on it. Upon closer inspection she realized there was a marking for a key next to the door. It didn’t say where or what kind of key it was. She flipped a few more pages and found one with a large illustration of the key and a map. It showed the path from the library to the North Tower.
Sighing to herself, she said, “Dammit, I didn’t even have to come back in here…”
