Angled Bookshelf Novels & Stories

Soon I had begun to take every book off the shelf, shaking the pages, just in case, it was in there. An hour passed and I was almost done with the entire bookshelf, but no sign of the damn card. Where the fuck was it? Another few books and I was on the last one, but that card was nowhere to be found. Did it maybe slip under? I placed another book down before looking at the shelf. It was large, made of solid oak. You could see that the bottom shelf was at least five inches off the ground but there was no panel I could take off. Slowly I tried to move the shelf, cursing when I realised it was bolted to the wall.

When I asked the butler, he said there were more than a thousand books in a two-story facility. My hand shuffled the books on one shelf at the left corner of the room and only stopped with a purple light glimmered to a part that evoked my eyes. Since they placed it on the 1st tier of the 10 feet bookshelf, a ladder for someone like me was a must. I grinned when the purple leather book with a gold gilded frame on its sides landed on my hands. They decorated the center with the Daria Empire’s Griffin logo carved from amber, plus the golden clasp added to its vintage aesthetic.

A bookshelf stacked with all kinds of books. "Do you like it?"

She was glancing around the room, trying to distract herself while she waited on her mom to catch up. The room she was in was a massive building with high ceilings. Thousands of 6 feel tall wooded shelves were standing upright and in rows and columns like a well-trained army. Each shelf held one giant ancient-looking book that was over 6ft tall. In front of each shelf was a small table that ran 6ft long and held 4 tables. Each table had a mechanism that could turn the pages of the book remotely from their seat, mages no longer had to get up from their seat or hire someone to turn pages for them.

Just expensive furniture and abstract art that looked chosen to impress rather than express. I passed through the living room, my attention drawn to a large bookshelf covering one wall. The collection impressed me—ancient texts on pack history, rare volumes on wolf magic, modern novels organized by genre rather than author. Many of the books looked unread, their spines uncreased. One leather-bound book caught my eye—its dark cover embossed with strange symbols that resembled no language I recognized. I reached for it, but it refused to budge. Odd. I tried again, pulling harder. The book remained firmly in place, as if glued to the shelf.

I opened it and found myself entering a smaller version of the library downstairs. There was no swirling staircase going up, up, up, rather walls full of books, some of which were only accessible via the sliding ladder off to the side. With my stomach full and heart heavy, I waltzed over to one of the shelves and scanned them, intending to pick a book at random. One in particular drew my eye. The cover was made of dark leather, embossed with a swirling gold font that was a bit hard to read. Tendrils of flame, interwoven with threads of shadow, danced up the spine and around the back.

The air smelled faintly of old parchment and polished wood, a rich, comforting scent that spoke of history and knowledge. Rows upon rows of bookshelves stretched toward the ceiling, filled with ancient tomes, modern texts, and carefully preserved manuscripts. Some shelves displayed artifacts behind locked glass cases—ornate relics, weapons, and strange objects that seemed to hum with unseen energy. Soft light from overhead fixtures cast a warm glow, illuminating the objects and creating dancing shadows between the stacks.

Inside the office is a large fireplace to provide warmth and a cozy atmosphere during the cold winter months; which is going to serve its use. The bookshelf is an impressive feature of the office, filled with leather-bound volumes and ancient manuscripts. The books have been carefully arranged in alphabetical order or by subject matter and included works of history, philosophy, literature, and law. The bookshelf itself is a work of art, made of intricately carved wood and adorned with gold leaf. Plus the touch of a modern lamp fixed on the wall, the computer arranged on the ancient desk, and the golden windowsill. It’s a space that exuded power, wealth, and prestige.

It was industrial, bolted and so out of place. He didn’t say anything, he just keyed in a code, waited for a soft click and then the air hissed the way do. The lights inside flickered to life one after the one, revealing rows upon rows of books, bound in leather, ribbon, and velvet. Stacks of brittle notes, sealed drawers, scrolls in temperature-controlled glass. Nirvana feet took action before she could stop it and her eyes looked around as if trying to assimilate everything and commit it to memory.

I pressed lightly against one of the books. Nothing. I tried another. Still nothing. “Maybe it’s not the books,” Jacob said. “Then what?” He leaned closer, examining the wood itself. “Back panel,” he murmured. I blinked. “What?” “Sometimes compartments aren’t in the books,” he said. “They’re behind them.” My heart started pounding faster. “Help me,” I said. We began pulling books out carefully. One by one. Stacking them on the floor. The shelf slowly emptied. My hands moved faster now.