The Ninth Door

Chapter 1 - Caretaker

Annette

“Earth to Annete.”

I was suddenly aware of fingers flicking in front of me. The sharp red fingernails immediately came into focus.

“Jessica, please,” I complained, swatting her hand away from my face.

“You were zoning out.” She pouted, and placed her hands on her hips. She was wearing a mini-dress that didn’t look at home in the library where we were working. It also seemed like she was ready to leave me here again minutes before we were supposed to close the library. Since it was a Friday, I could only guess that she had a hot date with her on-again, off-again, boyfriend Kane.

“Just tired. I have a paper due soon, and I can’t even work on that from here.”

“How can you not work from here? It’s a library and we are the bosses here, the librarians.” She flipped her shiny brown hair when she said that.

“Assistant librarians,” I corrected her. “I don’t feel comfortable doing that when I’m supposed to be working.” The more I listened to my words, the more I didn’t make sense. We barely had anyone coming in. More often than not, they would come to borrow a book or two then leave. The place is often deathly quiet, but I felt at home here.

“Right. So, um, I need to go now.”

“Of course you do,” I snapped, no longer hiding my annoyance. Jessica had nothing else to do after work, but she was the one who was always in a hurry to leave. The librarian, Mrs. Spencer, was on maternity leave and my co-assistant librarian was taking too much advantage.

“You know what, Annie, if you’re so grumpy working here all the time, why are you even here?”

I didn’t know how to answer her, but I certainly didn’t like talking about how I didn’t need the money. Jessica might have guessed a little. I actually had to tell her that the pair of earrings I wore during my first week working here wasn’t made of real diamonds. She had eyed me suspiciously, then. The name of the college I went to and the graduate school I was in now didn’t help, either, even if I lied and insisted that I was on a scholarship. My co-worker’s eyes often raked the clothes or shoes I wore, as if coming up with prices for them.

“I like it here. And I guess you’re right. I’ll start working on my assignments here whenever we have a slow day.”

“The days are always slow, Annie. By the way, I’m sorry about leaving you again. It’s just that -.” She fidgeted a little. I noticed things about her, too. Even though I never mentioned it, she knew that my eyes lingered a little too long on the bruises on her neck a month ago. The scarf that covered the evidence confirmed that they were nothing she was proud of.

“Yeah. Kane.”

“Yeah.”

I didn’t say anything more. When she realized that my attention was back on the ledger, comparing the books signed there to what we had on record in our online database, she started shuffling away. The database was pretty reliable, but I couldn’t help but check on the records from time to time. Today, I intended on checking some of the books on the database that I found a little too mysterious. They hadn’t been borrowed for a long time but weren’t stored in the special books room for antiques, where the temperatures and humidity were regulated.

The library was a place of refuge for me. My uncle wanted me to live near them, but I wanted to show everyone that I could make it on my own. That I could be brave. I had been living on my own since I turned eighteen. I solidified my right to be on my own by graduating with honors in Art History with a minor in business after only two and a half years, taking summer classes and extra credits all the time.

“You need to be with people, Nettie,” Uncle Stefan said. “Be with Joy and Silas. You work too hard.”

My cousins were older, but they always made me feel wanted. It was me, not them. I was the problem. I loved them. Their memories were my blanket of warmth.

“Aren’t you going to prom?” Joy asked, knocking at my door to see me huddled in the corner of my room. I wore the dress Aunt Rachel bought me, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house. It didn’t matter that the whole family – my family – thought I looked like a fairy. My blonde hair sharply contrasted with the black french lace dress, which dark-haired Joy loved, but I felt too exposed because of its low back and strapless design.

I was sixteen, and I should be having fun, but I spent the night crying in my eighteen-year-old cousin’s arms.

Joy was now twenty-three and in medical school. She wanted to become a psychiatrist. I wondered how much of my problems pushed her into choosing that particular specialization. Silas, a couple years older than his sister, was now a lawyer. They were my protectors, but I pushed them away.

“I need to prove myself, Uncle Stefan.”

“I know, darling. But can’t you prove it while you’re just in town with us? Do you need to move to a different city to hammer down your point?”

“Let me go and see. If I can’t handle it, I’ll be back.”

It had been three years. I was only twenty-one, but already in graduate school. My family was proud of what I had become. Lately, they no longer badgered me with their coos of concern. But just when I had proven myself worthy of their trust and my freedom, I started feeling afraid.

Two months ago, when I turned twenty-one, the feeling began. It was like being watched. Strangely, though, there were two kinds of feelings that came with it. Sometimes I felt fear. Sometimes I felt comfort.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend, Annette?” Mrs. Spencer asked me a couple of months into my job. “Friends? Do you go out during the weekends?”

How would she know that I didn’t have anyone, at least not there in South Bridge?

“I notice things you know. Jessica and Erin are always yapping about this person and that before opening hours. They make excuses to go outside to call someone. They take their lunch breaks outside whenever they could. But you, you’re always inside here. Too early to arrive. Too late to leave.”

“I like it here. I love being in the presence of books.”

The books seemed to be humming to me lately. One time, I had a panic attack and ended up almost debilitated on the stock room floor. Someone was talking to me. The worst thing about it was that I wasn’t sure if there were voices or if I had finally gone over the edge. I knew I should call Joy, but that would mean giving up on my independence.

I would be giving it two more months. If I still felt like my brain was giving up on me, I would definitely call Joy.

Back in the present, I realized that I was all alone. Jessica didn’t waste any time and left as soon as my attention left her. Anyway, it was time to leave. I must have really zoned out because it was almost six. We closed at five in the afternoon because South Bridge wasn’t exactly a metropolitan area. It was a sleepy town where most offices closed at four o’ clock, with a few closing at five. The usual borrowers could easily leave their offices at lunch time and come over here, knowing that I would always be here with my sandwich and my tea.

Then, I heard it.

Something fell to the floor somewhere in one of the aisles. Could there be someone else in the library with me? It had felt so quiet, but maybe I was just too much in my head for me to notice.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my light blue pencil skirt and stood up to investigate the noise. With no other staff here with me aside from Jon, the library guard, who would be somewhere in the basement double-checking the locks at about this time, I had no choice but to check the noise out myself.

The air seemed to become chillier as I walked from one aisle to the other.

“Hello?” I called.

There was no answer.

On the floor were three books. I frowned. There were no earthquakes or little children running about to cause the fall, but there they were. Maybe they were on the floor for a long time? Jessica wasn’t exactly the most thorough of assistant librarians and I had been cooped up in the librarian’s desk the whole day.

I picked them up. They were thick, heavy, and identical with their dark red leather covers and golden edges.

“Beautiful,” I whispered.

I checked the titles. One was called Lilith, the second one Estella, and the other one had no name. Intrigued, I flipped through the pages. The first two had some text, with no illustrations, while the third one was blank.

“Huh?”

Intrigued, I decided to take them home. After all, why shouldn’t I use my librarian’s privileges from time to time? They were right there in the main library so they didn’t seem to be in danger of falling apart under humid conditions.

“Miss Fairly?”

The lights went off, and I startled at the sound of a man calling my name.

“Oh, shoot. I’m sorry, Jon. I was just checking the aisles. There were some books on the floor. I’m leaving now, though.”

“You go on ahead, Miss Fairly. I will lock the doors.”

“Thank you, Jon.”

“No problem,” he said, grinning at me. He was a large, stout man in his forties but he was the most harmless person I had ever known and I had been working here for almost a year. I remembered how uncomfortable and even scared I was of him during my first few weeks. He never took offense.

The drive home was short, just a little over ten minutes. It was time to hit the books, again. I chuckled at how my life was just made up of books, books, books. I didn’t mind it but sometimes, it was lonely. Two more months, I reminded myself. If the whispering didn’t stop by then, I would be moving to Florida with Joy.

“We’ll go to the beach. Get some sun. That’s what you need, S-, uh, Annie, some sun.”

My chest ached at the sound of her words in my ears. I missed her so damn much. How could I be so stubborn? It was like I was being pulled to South Bridge. Something here was calling me. It was probably just insanity.

“Maybe the books?” a childlike voice whispered in my ear, and I sobbed.

I opened the door to my studio apartment. Aunt Rachel and Joy didn’t like it. It was too small, they said. I couldn’t tell them that I liked it small so that I could see every corner of it. I didn’t want a house so large there would so many hiding places.

The soft growl that met me was certainly not meant to be subtle. The animal that lazed on my couch, too big for it, too majestic, didn’t mean to hide at all. It was there in its feline glory. My body trembled as my mind came to terms with what I was seeing. A beautiful leopard, but a wild animal still, watched me with its intelligent eyes.

My keys clattered on the floor, followed by my heavy bag, but I remained standing and gaping at my unexpected intruder. I had been anticipating a hooded man or a a group of thugs, even a petty child thief, but not this creature. Not at all.

I froze.