Tomorrow Was Written

Chapter 2: "The West Wing"

"The West Wing"

Elena moved slowly toward the west wing, trying not to make more noise than necessary. The old floor creaked beneath her shoes anyway, and every sound seemed much louder now that the library was empty. She kept glancing back toward the front desk, half expecting Mrs. Harris to come walking through the doors and catch her.

Nothing happened.

The rain continued tapping against the windows, and the faint light at the end of the hallway seemed to grow brighter as Elena got closer. It wasn't the harsh white glow of the regular ceiling lights. It had a warmer, almost yellow color, like the light from an old desk lamp.

Elena stopped several feet from the entrance. The chain was still hanging across the doorway, and the same faded sign was attached to it.

CLOSED.

She leaned forward and looked through the gap. The light was definitely coming from inside.

"Okay," she whispered. "So how is there a light in there?"

There was no answer, of course.

Elena reached toward the chain but stopped before touching it. The metal was covered with small spots of rust, and the longer she looked at it, the more ridiculous the whole situation seemed. Mrs. Harris had told her to stay out. She had promised she would. There was absolutely no reason for her to be standing there.

Then she heard another soft scrape from somewhere beyond the doorway.

Elena pulled her hand back. "Hello?"

Silence.

She looked over her shoulder at the empty library before turning back to the west wing. "Is someone in there?"

Nothing.

With a quiet sigh, Elena finally lifted the chain.

It came loose far more easily than she expected.

She stared at it for a second. "That's not good."

She should have put it back. Instead, she pushed the door open.

The hinges gave a long, low groan that echoed down the hallway.

Beyond the doorway was a narrow corridor that looked nothing like the main library. The walls were darker, the paint faded with age, and framed photographs covered one side. Most of them were coated in dust. At the very end of the hall, the warm light continued to glow.

Elena stepped inside and immediately turned back. She pushed the door open a little wider so she could still see the main library.

"I'll just check it," she whispered to herself. "That's all."

She moved down the hallway with one hand brushing against the wall. Dust gathered on her fingertips, and she wiped it against her jeans as she walked. The first photograph she passed caught her attention.

It was an old black-and-white picture of Blackwood University. The building looked almost the same as it does now, but the surrounding campus was nearly empty. Elena leaned closer and read the date beneath the photograph.

February 17, 1968.

She frowned before moving to the next picture. There were dozens of them. Students stood outside the library in old-fashioned clothes, professors posed in front of the history building, and groups gathered around different parts of campus. Most of the photographs had dates written underneath them.

Then Elena stopped at one showing a large wooden clock.

Something about it looked familiar.

She stepped closer.

The clock stood in the center of a group of people, much taller than an ordinary wall clock. Its face was dark, and the hands were pointing toward eleven forty-seven.

Elena glanced at her phone.

11:47.

She looked back at the photograph.

Same time.

Her smile disappeared.

"No," she whispered.

She pulled out her phone and took a picture of the photograph.

The camera flashed.

At that exact moment, the hallway went completely dark.

Elena gasped and nearly dropped her phone.

"What the—"

She looked around, using the light from her screen to see. The warm glow at the end of the hallway had disappeared, and the only thing she could clearly see was the doorway behind her.

"Okay," she muttered. "That's my sign."

She turned toward the entrance.

Then someone spoke.

"Elena?"

She froze.

The voice was quiet, but it was unmistakably a man's voice.

Elena slowly turned around.

"Hello?"

There was no response.

She swallowed. "Did someone just say my name?"

Still nothing.

Then the light at the end of the hallway flickered back on.

Elena stared at it for several seconds. She considered leaving again, but the uncertainty was getting to her. She wanted to know who was there and how they knew her name.

She took a cautious step forward.

Another.

The hallway ended at an old wooden door. Unlike the main entrance, this one wasn't blocked by a chain. A thin line of warm light showed beneath it.

Elena stood there with her hand hovering over the handle.

"Okay," she whispered. "One quick look, then I'm leaving."

She turned the handle and pushed the door open.

The room beyond was small and dusty. An old desk sat in the middle, covered with books, loose papers, and a single lamp that gave off the same warm light she'd seen from the hallway. Everything around it looked as though it hadn't been touched in years.

Everything except the desk.

There was a notebook lying open in the center.

Elena slowly walked toward it.

"Who's been here?"

She looked around the room, but there was no one there.

Her attention returned to the notebook.

The pages were yellowed with age, and the handwriting looked old too. Then Elena noticed the date written at the top.

February 17, 2026.

Her breath caught.

"That's today."

She leaned closer.

Underneath the date was a single sentence.

Elena Marlowe will enter the west wing at 11:53 p.m.

Elena stared at the page.

She immediately thought of a prank. Someone had to know she worked here. Maybe they had been watching her. Maybe Sophie was somehow behind this, although even thinking that made little sense.

Then Elena looked at her phone.

11:53.

Her stomach tightened.

"No."

She stepped back from the desk and read the sentence again. Her name was right there in black ink, and there was no mistaking the time.

She looked at the rest of the notebook. The previous page was blank. The next page was blank too. Only that one sentence had been written.

"Who wrote this?"

Nothing happened.

Elena reached out and turned the page.

It was blank.

She turned another page.

Still blank.

Then, before her eyes, dark letters slowly appeared across the paper.

Elena will stay.

She jerked her hand away.

"What?"

Another line appeared beneath it.

She will read the next page.

Elena stared at the notebook.

"I am not doing this." she whispered.

Elena's heart began pounding.

"Stop."

The handwriting continued.

She will ask who I am.

Elena stared at the words, hardly believing what she was seeing.

After a moment, she whispered, "Who are you?"

The writing stopped.

For several seconds, nothing changed.

Then another sentence appeared.

You already know me.

Elena frowned.

"I don't."

The pen moved again.

Not yet.

A cold feeling settled in her chest.

She looked toward the door. "I don't know what kind of prank this is, but it's not funny."

The notebook remained still.

Elena waited.

Then new words began appearing.

Tomorrow, Adrian Cross will disappear.

Elena's stomach dropped.

"What?"

She rushed closer to the desk and read the sentence again.

Tomorrow, Adrian Cross will disappear.

"No."

She shook her head.

"That's not funny."

Another line appeared underneath.

She will try to stop it.

Elena stared at the page.

Then another line appeared.

She will fail.

Her hands began to tremble.

She grabbed the notebook and slammed it shut.

The lamp went out.

The room fell completely dark.

Elena jumped and nearly dropped the notebook.

"Okay. That's enough."

She turned toward the door and hurried into the hallway, clutching the notebook tightly against her chest. She had almost reached the other end when she stopped so suddenly that her shoes scraped against the floor.

Someone was standing near the entrance.

A dark figure stood at the far end of the corridor, completely still.

Elena couldn't see their face.

Her voice caught.

"Hello?"

The figure didn't move.

Elena took a careful step backward. "Who are you?"

There was still no answer.

The figure suddenly turned and disappeared around the corner.

"Wait!"

Elena ran after them.

By the time she reached the corner, the hallway was empty.

She looked down one direction, then the other.

Nothing.

"Okay," she whispered, breathing hard. "I'm really losing my mind."

Elena hurried back toward the entrance.

When she reached the doorway, she stopped.

The chain was back in place.

She stared at it.

For a moment, she wondered whether she'd imagined the entire thing, but then she felt the weight of the notebook in her hands.

She shoved it into her bag and reached for the chain.

Her phone buzzed.

Elena nearly screamed.

She pulled it out and looked at the screen.

A message from Adrian.

Adrian: You still at the library?

She stared at it for a second before typing.

Elena: Yeah. Why?

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Finally, another message came through.

Adrian: I don't know. I just had a weird feeling that I should text you.

Elena looked toward the hallway.

She typed quickly.

Elena: You okay?

The reply came almost immediately.

Adrian: Yeah. Why?

Elena looked down at her bag.

She thought about telling him what she'd just seen. She thought about sending him a picture of the notebook and asking if he knew anything about it.

Instead, she typed, Nothing. Just checking.

Adrian replied, Okay. Good night, Elena.

She stared at the message.

Then another one appeared.

Adrian: And don't stay at the library too late.

Elena's stomach tightened.

She looked toward the west wing again.

The hallway beyond the chained door was completely dark now.

She didn't wait to see whether the light would return. Elena pulled the chain aside, hurried through the doorway, and shut it behind her.

For a moment, she simply stood there.

The main library looked exactly as it had before. The empty tables, the shelves, the rain against the windows. Everything was normal.

At least, it looked normal.

Elena checked the clock.

12:00.

Midnight.

Her phone buzzed again.

This time, there was no name attached to the message. Just a number she didn't recognize.

She opened it.

There were only six words on the screen.

Tomorrow has already been written.