The Empty Library Novels & Stories

He put his hand over his mouth and let out a long yawn. The feeling of the whole body was exhausted, the mind could not absorb another word. A little nostalgic, but she still reluctantly closed the book she was reading in her hand. Probably have to borrow it to continue studying. Gathering fish utensils, pens and books on the table, she reluctantly got up to leave. Take a look around the library. Apparently not reluctantly, but now that everyone has left, the library is completely empty.

I pushed open the doors without answering him. The library was breathtaking. Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, easily four stories high, connected by spiraling staircases and narrow walkways that seemed to float in midair. Books were everywhere, thousands upon thousands of them, their spines glowing softly with different colored lights. Some books floated freely through the air, occasionally settling into empty spots on the shelves or drifting down to readers at the tables below.

Then the library—shelves, books, ghosts, drones, friends, monster, *everything*— *Detonated into white static.* *No up. No down. No sound. No time.*

I watched her go, not with suspicion, but simply observing. "It probably has to do with 'you know who'," Ember said quietly. "I know." "Do you still think it's nothing?" "I think it's something that isn't my business yet." "Yet," Ember echoed, the word a subtle annotation. The library was blessedly empty when I arrived, just how I preferred it. I'd been coming here since the curfew began, bypassing the obvious texts on the accessible shelves, the sanitized histories that barely qualified as information. My focus was on the back case, the one with scratched-out titles, ancient locks, and pages that seemed to hold their breath, guarding secrets. I’d read enough in the Emberclaw library to know

’ ‘Can’t wait to never see these bitches again. ‘You and me both, sister.’ The library’s sterile hush made Nuri’s skin crawl. The walls smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant and old paper, a clinical coldness that settled in her bones. Empty computer stations stretched out before her, and only one girl sat hunched in the corner, too buried in books to care. Nuri exhaled shakily and reached into her bag for the notecard Moira had given her—temporary login credentials. She typed slowly, deliberately, like her fingers might betray her if she moved too quickly.

I had spent six months drifting across the ocean on a cargo ship, but I would send 20,000 dollars back home every month. So, I really only had one thing on my mind the day I finally set foot on solid ground again—my wife's pork rib soup. When I pushed open the front door, I found my seven-month-pregnant wife, Sophia Merkin, sitting on our worn-out sofa. At that moment, my six months' worth of exhaustion, frustration, and pent-up anger from the roiling life at sea surged to the surface. "I've been busting my ass out there and working more than 10 hours a day. Yet, I don't even get a hot meal at home when I'm finally home?" Sophia said nothing. Instead, she walked over to the refrigerator

The door opened. The library had no windows. The walls were lined with shelves; the gold lettering on the spines glinted occasionally in the dim light filtering through the door crack, like flattened stars breathing. She walked to the farthest shelf, pulled out the black-spined book from the third row—cover blank, pages empty. She set it on the table, opened the cover. The folded paper inside had no new writing. She closed it, returned it to the shelf, and turned toward the other door at the far end of the room.

They loomed before me, untouched, undisturbed. I pushed them open. Darkness swallowed me. The library was unlike the rest of the house. No windows, no natural light. Just endless shelves stretching toward the ceiling, filled with books older than I was. The air was heavy. I stepped inside, my fingers trailing over the spines of the books as I scanned the tiles. And then— I saw it. A single book, slightly pulled from the shelf. I reached for it, tugging it free. The moment I did, something clicked.

“Same thing you said… and you got stabbed.” “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Ember, please take him away.” “Heyy!” Chase protested. “Just text me if anything happens. I’ll come pick you up.” “I’ll be fine, little brother.” I winked, turning on my boots and walking away. **** The library was empty when I stepped in… Quiet Dust floated in shafts of light, making the air shimmer. It looked like no one came here much anymore. My fingers brushed over the spines of old, forgotten books as I moved past rows of tall shelves, eyes scanning for anything on hybrid white wolves.

On a normal day, I would ask her about it, but today, she can keep her secrets. Just like I'm going to keep mine. As per usual, the library is empty, giving me the perfect amount of time to wander around, plucking books off the shelves listening intently to the sounds that come from the other side of the wall. Unnervingly, it sounds like music. I've accepted the fact that maybe, this is all for nothing.