The NoSleep Podcast - NoSleep Podcast S7E22

Episode Date: September 4, 2016

It's episode 22 of Season 7. On this week's show we have four tales about the little things which creep around us in the dark."Down in the Library Basement - Finale"* written by Rona Vaselaar> and performed by Jessica McEvoy & Nikolle Doolin & Erika Sanderson & Alexis Bristowe. (Story starts around 00:04:00)"I Gave Birth To Something"** written by R. Riddell and performed by Erika Sanderson. (Story starts at 01:04:40)"I Shouldn’t Have Called an Exorcist"** written by David Crabtree and performed by David Ault & James Cleveland & Oliver Gyani. (Story starts at 01:20:00)"The Thing in the Rust"** written by Michael Marks and performed by Peter Lewis & Jessica McEvoy. (Story starts at 01:37:00)Click here to learn more about the voice actors on The NoSleep Podcast Click here to learn more about fundraising for the Adrian Branch Library Click here to learn more about Rona Vaselaar Click here to learn more about Michael Marks Executive Producer & Host: David CummingsMusical score composed by: Brandon BooneAudio adaptations produced by: David Cummings & Jeff Clement* & Phil Michalski**"Down in the Library Basement" illustration courtesy of Charlie CodyAudio program ©2016 - Creative Reason Media Inc. - All Rights Reserved - No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc.. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors.  Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Be forewarned, this is a horror fiction podcast. By listening to our stories, you are choosing to be frightened and disturbed for your entertainment. You do so at your own risk. Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast. 2007, episode 22, down in the library basement, I gave birth to something. I shouldn't have called an exorcist, the thing in the rust. It's the No Sleep Podcast. I'm David Cummings. Thanks for joining us. On this week's show, we have four tales about the little things which creep around us in the dark.

I'm happy to introduce a new voice actor joining our ensemble. Ali Guiani is a British actor who has a penchant for the Maccabre. He recently started listening to podcasts and quickly found our show while searching for his favorite genres. He's looking forward to causing a sleepless night or two of his own. We're glad you're part of the team, Ollie, and we welcome you to the show. And for this episode, we're doing something rather special. Season past seven members will recall a story we did on episode eight, called Down in the Library Basement. It was written by author Rona Vassilar.

Well, on this episode, we're going to feature the conclusion to that story. For those of you listening to the free version, we'll include Part 1 and the finale back-to-back for an extended-length version of the episode. For our season past seven members, we'll jump right into the finale. But that's not all that makes this episode special. You see, the story is about a woman whose mother is a librarian at their story. Small Town Library, and as it turns out, author Rona Vassilar's mother is, in fact, a real small town librarian. She works at the Adrian Branch Library, located in southwest Minnesota.

Like many small town libraries, they're dedicated to fostering a love of books and reading for all ages, but especially for the children. And we here at the No Sleep podcast share their love of the written word and we're grateful for their efforts. The Adrian Branch Library is currently doing some fundraising for some much-needed renovations and upgrades. However, they're remaining tight-lipped about whether or not some of the renovations are related to whatever may be down in the library basement. But nonetheless, we're proud to bring this fundraising effort to everyone's attention and hope you'll go to library. The nosleeppodcast.com to find out more information about the library and how you can help.

The No Sleep Podcast, in honor of Rona's excellent tale, will be donating $500 to the fundraiser, and we hope that many of you listeners will consider pledging a few dollars of your own. If great writers like Rona Vassilar are products of that library system, just think of the frightening tales that are waiting to, to be inspired by a newly upgraded Adrian Branch Library. And on this Labor Day weekend, when kids are starting their school year, it's a great time to invest in a very worthy cause indeed.

And now, with no further delay, it's time to visit the library as portrayed by Rona Vassilar, as we listen to Jessica McAvoy, Nicole Doolin, Erica Sanderson, Dan Zepula, and Alexis Bristow perform the tale about a very unique small-town library. Running such a place isn't easy, so be grateful to your friendly neighborhood librarian. They have a lot of things to do, and some of them take place down in the library basement. Running a library is not an easy thing to do. You'd be surprised at the number of people who think that all librarians do is sit around and read the whole day. They have no concept of all the duties that come with being a librarian.

In just one day, my mother will teach a class for senior citizens on how to use the computer, help four different families find the graves of their loved ones, register a thousand new books into the system, reorder all the books that have been returned, hold a story time session for the children, the list goes on and on. The point of me telling you, this is for you to understand that it takes a person with a degree and years of experience to run a

library. And I am not that person. My mom has run our small town's library for over 20 years. She's damn good at what she does, and that's the only reason that town still has a library. Unfortunately, this meant that it was difficult to replace her, even for a short amount of time, when she fell down the basement stairs and broke her leg. I should have suspected something was up when she called me home. I'm a freelance writer, so it's not difficult for me to come back to rural Minnesota at a moment's notice. You'll understand, however, that I don't do it very often. I rarely have any shred of desire to return to my hometown.

I need you to watch over the library for me until I can go back to work. When my mom said that, it wasn't a request so much as an order. It was easy to tell from the set look in her eyes that she had already mentally decided I would be taking over for her, regardless of any request of mine. As the librarian's daughter, I knew better than anyone how difficult her job is. I blanched when she asked me. Mom, there's no way. I don't know how to register books.

I don't know how to use the system. My mom waved her hand dismissively. That's not a problem. You won't have to register any books. You can just check them out, which you've done before. Another librarian from Rock County will be coming with. once a week to register any new books and fix anything you might have screwed up. I wanted to scowl at that, but I held back, mostly because it was true.

For the most part, I need you to deal with patrons. Help them find books. Help them with research. Keep the computers up and running. You do realize you're asking me to do the impossible, right? I deadpanned, and my mom sighed. Look, I know this isn't ideal, but it's only for a few weeks until my leg is better. I just need you to keep things afloat. You know, if there was anyone qualified to do this, I'd ask them. As it is, you're the closest to a qualified library in this town has.

Aside from me, you've grown up with the library and you know the basics of how it works. You can do this. I gave my mom a skeptical look, but she just returned it with an encouraging smile. I sighed as she began to give me a rundown on my duties as her stand in. There were so many details I actually had to take notes. By the fourth or fifth page, I was convinced that she was setting me up for failure. Just do your best. You'll be fine. Yeah.

Right. The first day at the library was utter and complete hell, mixed in with some chaos and a healthy dose of self-loathing. I followed my mom's instructions to the letter, but even that was a paltry comfort. Make sure you have story time in the morning. It starts promptly at 9 a.m. Usually, I love kids,

but not when I'm the one who has to do it. try to keep them in line. And they never stop talking. It took me 15 minutes to try to get to the fourth page of the stupid picture book I picked out. Something about a dumb jellyfish that lost his glasses. Jellyfish don't even need

glasses, you little shits. Try to run a virus scan on each computer before noon. If one computer goes down, the rest are sure to follow. trust me. Of course, it would be my luck that the computers would all crash on my first day. I called the resident IT guy, a man from across the county who proved to be distinctly unhelpful. I can probably get in to fix them later this week.

Oh, perfect. Computerless for a week. I don't remember what exactly, I said to him, but apparently my threats were frightening enough to get him in within the hour. He carefully avoided me as he fixed the computers. Some patrons might need help with genealogy research. Just do the best you can. Even with the websites my mom provided,

it was near impossible to find these people. My great-great-grandmother's name was ever. Bethel, can you find her for me? I can try. What's her last name? Oh, I'm not sure, but I know she lived in a red house. I see? Any other information?

She was a witch. I'm trying to find her spellbook. Right. Some kids will probably be coming in to find books for school. They have a reading program in school, and they have to earn a certain number of points in a semester by reading books and their reading level.

Make sure to get them books appropriate for both their age and reading level. What do you mean my son shouldn't read a clockwork orange? The soccer mom screamed. Her long, manicured nails tapping on the library desk. Her eight-year-old son stood a little ways away,

browsing the sports books. It's just not age-appropriate. it, ma'am. I'll have you know my son is damn smart, and he can read whatever he wants. Ma'am, about half of this book is about rape, and the other half is about murder. I was losing patience. She threw the book down on the floor in disgust and started shrieking. Why on earth would the school recommend such filth? And why do you offer it here? Really, I expect more from a public and institution like this. So, like I said, the first day was exceptionally long and brutal.

The days after weren't much better. There were a few odd instructions that my mom had given me before sending me on my doomed mission. They were so strange, in fact, that I asked the hospital if they'd checked my mom for a concussion, because she was obviously talking nonsense. She had to be. Every night after you lock up, go down to the library basement. Make sure to take along a book of your choice.

It can be anything. Then you'll need to sit down there and read aloud for at least half an hour. I blinked as I stared at my mom, giving me a stern look from her hospital bed. Um, am I supposed to request? Record this or... No, don't worry about that.

Just go down there and read. Mom, there's nothing down there. It was true. The basement was a decrepit dust fest, complete with a bare concrete floor and rows of useless crap that had never been thrown away for some odd reason or another. It doesn't matter if there is or isn't anything down there. You just do as I said.

Understand? She was rarely so harsh with me, so I agreed, making a big show of writing it down. She relaxed. Make sure you lock the doors before you leave, but leave one light on, one by the front desk. If you remember, leave some candy behind, too. She must have seen the strange look I was giving her. I know this all seems like an odd thing to ask, but it's very important. to me, all right?

I couldn't say I was sure that my mother was completely sane, or that she hadn't conked her head hard enough to drive logic out the window. But she was looking at me as though this was the most important part of my job. So I gave a resigned nod and said, All right. The practice, however, was much easier than the theory, mostly because I really fucking hated going into that basement. The first night I went down,

I grabbed my copy of Wuthering Heights, one of my favorite books, and descended the stairs, flicking on the light as I went. There was only one functioning light in the basement. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling that illuminated a tiny circular spot on the floor. I felt like I was stepping into the spotlight

as I sat down in the chair my mother must have placed there. I sat in the total silence and cleared my throat. It was strange being down here alone. I really didn't like it. But I had a job to do, so I set the timer on my phone for 30 minutes and started reading. I stumbled a little at the beginning,

the words jumbling together on their way out of my mouth, but soon I had found my groove and the narrative flowed just fine, my voice carrying throughout the damp basement. It made me nervous the way I broke the silence. It seemed wrong. I could feel my pulse hammering hard in my throat, and I began to wish that I had just ignored my mother's instructions. I'm stupid. This is stupid.

And I'm stupid for doing the stupid thing. Stupid. As I kept reading, I gradually became aware of the feeling of somebody watching me. Of course I'd feel that way. I mean, I was sitting in this creepy old basement all alone with barely even a light to keep me company, my voice echoing off the cement walls in total solitude. It's completely normal that I'd begin to feel creeped out, as though I wasn't really alone. normal, but that didn't mean that I liked it.

I was startled when my phone roared to life. It's jingle signaling the end of my 30 minutes. Swallowing hard, I silenced the offending object and raced up the stairs, suddenly feeling that something was going to slither out and drag me back down if I wasn't careful. I slammed the basement door shut and ran through the library. finishing everything as quickly as I could. I left the light on over the front desk. I'd bought a candy bar during lunch and left it on the desk.

It looked like an offering to something. I couldn't stop shaking. I ran out the front door and locked it, checking and rechecking to make sure that I hadn't made a mistake. I won't lie. I was relieved after locking it, as though the extra barrier between myself and the basement would save me from something. It took me a full ten minutes before I was calm enough to climb into my car and drive to my parents' house,

where my mom and dad had set up my old room for as long as I'd be running the library. Dad was at the hospital with mom, who hadn't come home yet, so I had the house to myself. I got drunk that night. prying open my dad's liquor cabinet and drinking whatever I laid my eyes on. I threw on some stupid sitcom and sat in the living room, all the lights on and a blanket drawn around me like a suit of armor. So ended the absolute worst first day of a job I've ever had. That first week was anything but easy.

On Tuesday, I made a kid cry during story time. On Wednesday, I caught one of the patrons trying to watch porn on the computer. On Thursday, the town pervert came in specifically to harass me, and I had to threaten the police on him when he started bragging about his massive cock. On Friday, it rained and the roof leaked, ruining about a dozen good books that would have to be replaced. The one thing that got easier, at least, was the basement. At first, I'd been so confused as to why my mother had asked me to do all these strange rituals. It was like she was trying to assuage a spirit or something.

The moment that thought occurred to me, I realized what was happening. My mother, you see, is a big believer in ghosts. The library has always had its share of bad luck. lights going out on their own, computers crashing, etc. And she must have started to believe that it had its own little haunting. Perhaps she thought that if she read to it, gave it offerings, things would go smoothly. After that, my nightly rituals actually became kind of fun. I started to imagine that the ghost my mom had been communicating with was another young woman,

just like me. I picked out books that I thought she might like, and by that I mean books that I liked. And they put more feeling into my readings. Occasionally, I'd find myself talking to her absent-mindedly throughout the day. In the end, I even started believing she might actually be there. It started with the candy. As per my mother's request,

I'd buy the elusive little spirit something as an offering. I started out with chocolate, and I'd throw it away in the morning. One night, however, I left a bag of skittles, and the next morning it was gone. I had scoured the library looking for some sign of the candy, but it was just gone. From then on, I started buying all different kinds of treats, seeing if I could get to different results. Chocolates were usually left behind, but hard candies were almost always gone by the next day. After about three weeks, I decided that, yes, there was a ghost, and I was beginning to understand its preferences. Maybe it seems I'm being a little too cavalier about all this.

After all, it's not every day that people decide they're dealing with ghosts and start messing around with them. Of course, you have to remember that I hadn't actually seen any ghosts. I'd just imagined that they must be there. To me, it was something of a game. I got to play make-believe and some forces that be played along. It was fun, if a little strange. That all changed one night just after closing, when I made the mistake of letting down my guard. Everyone in knew that the library closed at 8 o'clock p.m. on Thursdays, and it was Thursday. It was already 8.30, and I was choosing a book. I'd just about decided on little women, when I heard the bells above the door jingle, and somebody stepped inside the library.

Now, I hadn't locked the door yet because... Well, I didn't think I needed to. I can already hear you guys telling me how stupid I am, but... Cut me a little slack. After all, it's a small town. And nothing ever happens in small towns, right? Guess again. I peered out from the bookshelf I was standing near

and saw the town pervert walking towards me. He had this big shit-eating grin on his face, and immediately I was on high alert. Let me give you a quick rundown on how this guy looks. He's massive, and I don't mean fat. He's ridiculously tall with a fair amount of muscle bulging out of his ill-fitting and stained clothes. He lacked the capacity to understand personal hygiene apparently, because his hair was always greasy and his breath smelled like the inside of a bat cave.

He had a bad habit of getting inside a person's personal space and leering at them. his eyes traveling shamelessly over their body. It disgusted me. My mom had always warned me about this guy. We'll call him Chad. See, Chad would try to fuck anything that moved, regardless of age or circumstance. He'd been around since I was a kid,

and he had often tried to convince both me and my older sister to come into his house and talk with him, just for a moment. He had something nice to give us. He'd gotten kicked out of the library several times in the past for hitting on minors, or on my mother herself. He had wandering hands and no sense of decency. And at that moment, I was alone with him. You still working here for your ma, Cassie? He spoke with a casual tone. His steps not.

not slowing as he approached me. I took a few instinctive steps back, putting the desk between us as a sort of barrier. Not that he couldn't work his way around that. I wondered if I'd be able to grab my mace from my purse. You know I am, Chad. I snapped, already annoyed with him. You know you're not supposed to be here after hours either.

You need to leave right now. He gave me an easy smile. I just want to talk to you, sweetie. We're friends, aren't we? I felt a heave deep in my stomach at those words. I scanned my work area for my purse, but remember it all too late it wasn't there. I left it in the car.

No, we're not friends. If you don't leave right now, I'm going to call the cops. Not that calling the cops would do much good. The reason people like Chad could still exist in such a small community was that the cops were absolute shit. Still, I reached for the phone anyway because I don't make threats that I don't intend to keep. Chad's polite mask slipped off then, as I knew it would.

I'd been hoping he was smart enough to hightail it out of there when I made my threat, but my hope was clearly misplaced, especially since there were no witnesses to his behavior. His eyes darkened. You fucking bitch! In a moment, he was halfway over the desk and I shrieked. I stumbled backwards just out of reach as he lumbered towards me, sporting a tent in his pants that told me he enjoyed chasing me into a corner. In an absolute panic, I ran down the stairs.

to the basement, stumbling and falling the last few steps and sprawling out in the concrete. A deep pain flared up in my arm as I landed on it, and I knew instantly that it was definitely sprained, maybe broken. I could hear Chad pounding down the steps, and I crawled into the darkness, my legs shaking too hard to support myself. I had just about made it past the little circle of light. He must have turned it on before he came. down when his hand shot out and caught me by the ankle. He was freakishly strong, although I shouldn't have been surprised given his physique. He clamped his hand down so hard I thought he might actually snap my ankle bone.

I screamed again as I tried to pull myself away from him, but my attempts were futile. I could hear him panting hard in arousal as he pulled me back. I've been teasing me all these years. Now look what it's got. He was muttering, falling on top of me and pinning me down. I thrashed and yelped as he fumbled with my blouse, cursing its buttons. And then, just then, I got that feeling again, that feeling of being watched. This time, it was much stronger than before.

I instantly froze, suddenly feeling a great danger surrounding me. a danger other than Chad. The air in the basement seemed to have dropped a good ten degrees, and I could see puffs of his rotten breath forming above me. On instinct, I began to strain my eyes, looking past his hulking body into the darkness, even as he undid the last button and reached for my braw. There, in the darkness, something was moving.

It was as though the darkness in the room had become liquid, and it was shifting and twisting. My breath caught in my throat, and I barely felt Chad's hands on me. I had gone silent when I sensed the disturbance, but now I began to make strange wheezing noises as the liquid darkness moved towards us. Chad didn't ask if I was okay or what was wrong. I don't think he even noticed. He was too busy trying to get me out of my slacks. He never saw it, but I did. It had black fur, which was probably why I had never seen it before.

Its body was absolutely massive, pushed along by four long, spindly legs. It looked something like a spider, but for the way it walked. Its body was obviously heavy because the legs did little more than drag it forward, its body scraping along the ground. I noticed that its legs ended in a sharp claw, making each into something of a spear. I couldn't scream. I wanted to, but I couldn't. As I lay there under the body of my would-be rapist, I was dimly aware that he hadn't quite succeeded in declosing. me yet. I saw one of its front legs snap forward. It had been lumbering towards us so slowly

that I almost thought it was incapable of speed. Apparently, I was wrong, because in the time it took me to blink, its leg had managed to spear through Chad's chest, poking through the other side and showering me in blood. I gagged. Chad's eyes were wide open. staring at me in utter confusion as though he thought I was the one who did this. In reality, I was just as surprised as he was, especially when the leg began to split apart into smaller appendages, goering him from the inside out. In absolute horror, I crawled backwards, bumping into some boxes behind me.

The creature dragged Chad's still struggling body backwards towards its bulk before extracting its limb. With great effort, it pulled itself up on its legs. Now I could see its belly. Well, what should have been its belly? I watched its fur pull back to several layers of jagged yellow teeth, pointed just slightly outwards. Its maw was larger than my torso,

and I watched as it lowered itself. down on top of Chad. I'm glad that I couldn't see what exactly those teeth did to him. Most of my vision was blocked by the black furry body, but I did manage to see the blood. The amount of red that covered the floor and coated the beast gave me a pretty good idea of what was happening. I seem to recall that Chad's screams went on a great while longer,

than I expected them to. Eventually, the thing finished feeding. The sickening crunch of Chad's bones stopped, and it settled itself on the floor once more. Its legs began to drag its body forward as it crawled to me. Tears were coursing down my cheeks as I thought about what had happened to Chad. I had never really planned out what kind of death I wanted,

but I knew that wasn't it. I was shaking so hard the boxes behind me started to rattle as the thing crawled towards me at an agonizingly slow pace. It stopped just in front of me. I found myself frantically searching for eyes, but I found none. I had an awful moment where I wondered if it could smell me. And then something amazing. happened. Something amazing and unbelievable. It lifted itself up just a bit and spit out a wrapper.

A Skittles rapper. There was a long moment where neither of us moved. The black creature was waiting for me to do something, and I was waiting to do it. Eventually, a must have up enough courage to reach forwards and pick up the wrapper. As soon as I did, it turned itself around, dragging its heavy body back to the corner it had been hiding in. I sat there for a long moment, staring alternatively at the wrapper and then at the mess of blood that the beast had left on the floor, splattered with the occasional eyeball or tooth. I stared and I thought, Eventually, I stood up. I walked on shaking legs up the stairs until I got to the young adults aisle,

plucking little women from the shelf. I walked back down to the basement, riding the chair that had been tipped over during my struggle with Chad. I sat down and, in a surprisingly steady voice, I began to read. It was about two weeks later that my mom was cleared to come back to work. Well, cleared might be a poor term. It's more that she ordered the doctor to give his consent for her to return to work. Otherwise, she was going to find him and kill him in his sleep. Something to that effect. Hey, the women in my family are scary. What can I say? I decided to stick around a few more weeks, helping my mom out as she got back to her daily routine.

She observed me carefully, probably trying to decide if I knew what she thought I knew. One night as we were closing, she turned to me. Did something happen to Chad? He usually comes in at least once a day, and I haven't seen him at all since I've been back. I shrugged, thinking of the hour I'd spent cleaning up the basement, so there would be no trace of the incident. I guess I don't know. Maybe he decided to skip town.

It does look that way, doesn't it? She was watching me closely. She finally spoke after being silent for a long moment. Would you like to read tonight, or should I? I answered her with a grin that told her everything she needed to know. I think I'll do it. Tonight, I still need to finish little women. My mom smiled at me, knowing that she'd found a fellow conspirator.

I know I should go back to my writing, but I'm finding it a bit hard to leave the library now. After all, it's not every day that you meet a new friend. For so long, life went on as normal at the library. Although I am still a freelance writer, I now do it from my hometown, and I work days at the library with my mom. She and I take turns caring for our creature, and in so doing we have learned a thing or two about it. First, its favorite candies are Skittles, Reese's Pieces, Jolly Ranchers, and Twizzlers. Second, it loves classical novels, particularly. stories about adventure.

Third, it usually prefers to remain in the shadows and avoid human contact. But the status quo changed when the library began its renovations. Now, I love the library as much as my mom does. After all, I practically grew up there. There are so many things to love about it. the warm, cozy atmosphere, the plastic castle for the kids to play in, the treats my mom leaves out for the kids on the front desk. But as much as I love the library, I can't deny this one particularly painful truth. It's a dump.

Sealing tiles are constantly falling out overnight. The roof leaks and we lose something. tons of books to water damage every year. Plus, the water leaves disgusting brown sludge marks on the walls. The floors are stained gray with age. I think at one point they were white, but who knows at this point? The whole dam building is falling apart around us, and for years we didn't have the money to do anything about it. Recently, however, the rather dilapidated state of our our library caught the attention of a few prominent members of the community who expressed an interest in donating some money for renovations. Jumping on the opportunity, my mom organized a fundraiser,

and, as she is rather fantastic at advertising, we raised the money in no time. Mom and I were so excited to begin renovations that we didn't even stop to think about how our library guardian would feel. We just assumed that it wouldn't even notice, what with being stuck in the basement all the time. We were very wrong about that. At first, everything seemed to be going all right. The first thing we did was replace the roof. That prevented any further water damage from occurring while we fixed up the rest of the place. My mom was thrilled with the results.

She was finally able to take away the buckets we'd had to place. around the library under the bigger leaks. Our library guardian didn't seem to notice. It kept to itself, as usual. The next thing we did was rip up the linoleum floor. Initially, we had hoped to install hardwood floors over the top of the linoleum, but because the tiles were already peeling and cracking, that wasn't an option.

After the asbestos test came back negative, and we knew that wouldn't be an issue, the contractors began the laborious process of ripping apart our floor. That's when my mother and I started to notice the change in our creature. Every night, we continued to leave candy for our creature. Usually in the morning, we would find the leftover candy wrapper in the middle of the basement floor. However, after a few days of work on the floor, the library guardian made a request.

I'd gone down that morning to throw away the wrapper from the bag of Skittles we'd left the night before, but it was nowhere to be found. As I searched the floor, I heard the sound of the guardian dragging itself out of its favorite corner, its spindly legs struggling with its massive girth. It seemed tired somehow, as though it wasn't strong enough to carry itself.

I began to worry. The guardian crawled up to me, and I did my best not to be frightened. I knew it meant me no harm, but seeing a giant spider-like creature crawling towards you is unsettling no matter what anyone says. As soon as the creature reached me, it spat the wrapper on the floor.

Then it shifted its body forward, forward and began to nudge in my hand, as though asking for something. For a moment, I was hopelessly confused. And then, oh, oh, it hit me. Our guardian was still hungry. I promised the guardian that I'd bring it back something to eat, although I was pretty certain it couldn't understand what I was saying, and went back up the stairs to explain the,

situation to my mom. She sent me to the store with $100 and told me to get enough hard candy to feed an army. And made sure to get all the Guardian's favorites. My mom and I had worked out that the Guardian didn't seem to need much food and that it mostly subsisted on sugar. As such, I figured another bag of Skittles would probably be sufficient. I was so, so wrong. By the time the library closed for the day, and it was time for me to read for the Guardian, the book was the hunchback of Notre Dame this time. I found the basement a massacre of candy wrappers. I stared at them all in disbelief.

My God, the Guardian had eaten everything. My mom and I actually stayed overnight at the library that night, worried that perhaps the guardian had eaten itself sick. However, all was quiet, and the guardian stayed safely tucked in its corner all night long. We decided that we were being too paranoid and went back to our usual routine the next day, although we began to spend significantly more money feeding our creature.

For a few more days, everything remained stable. Then, one night, there was another incident. I was reading to the creature when it dragged itself out of the corner once again. I could hear its body scraping against the floor, the labored stretch of its legs trying to reach me. I didn't turn around to look at it, not wanting to spook it, and continued on with the story. Eventually, the creature reached my side.

and perched on the floor next to me. It reached for me with one of its front legs, tapping my hand gently, taking great care not to stab me with its sharpness. After a moment's thought, I placed my hand on its furry body. I was incredibly cautious, trying to gauge its reaction.

It appeared to like my attentions, so I began to stroke. I was petting it almost like a dog, but it responded like a cat, a heavy, loud purr starting up deep in its belly. That's when I began to wonder if something was seriously wrong with our creature. As the renovations continued, my mother gave me a new job. Focus entirely on our library guardian. had to direct the renovations, of course, and supervise. That meant she had to be there for repainting

the walls, tearing down the shelves and putting up new ones, painting a new mural on the back wall, installing a new front desk. Unfortunately, we could no longer leave the creature alone. It seemed to crave a kind of companionship, and it couldn't stand to be left alone in the basement. If it was down there alone for too long, it would send up a mournful kind of screeching. If Banshees existed, well, that's the noise they'd make, let me tell you. So, my mom took an old cot that had belonged to my brother when he was a kid and set it up in the basement. I spent my days and nights down there, reading and feeding our little beast. It liked to curl up next to me, and it absolutely demanded that I pet it.

Although I enjoyed our time together, its behavior was so strange that I couldn't stop worrying something bad was going to happen. My mother felt the same way, but what could we do? I mean, it wasn't like we could call the vet and say, Hey, would you come take a look at the giant monster that lives in our basement and eat the occasional rapist? Well, not that it was a monster to us, but we knew the rest of the world wouldn't see it in such a positive light. So I stayed with it, day in and day out. I made sure it was comfortable and happy. I gave it all sorts of new candy to try, and it seemed to enjoy our little adventures and taste testing. But as

time went on, I began to notice something alarming. Our library guardian was gradually getting bigger. By the time the renovations were just about finished, I'd been spending almost all my time in the basement for a period of about three months. In that time, the library guardian had gotten so, well, fat, that it couldn't even lift itself up anymore. I watched it try to drag itself into its corner one night, but it couldn't even budge an inch. So it sat on the floor, somehow managing to convey its distress to me, though it lacked the eyes with which to do it. I stayed by its side, stroking its fur and singing quietly until its despair subsided. During our time together, I'd learned that it'd rather liked being sung to.

I could sense that something was different that night. Something was going to happen, only I had no idea what. When my mom came down to check on me, I told her my suspicions. She agreed to stay the night with me and help me take care of our guardian, our protector, our friend. It seemed to enjoy our company, and it tried to snuggle closer to us as I draped a blanket around it. keeping it warm. It was about midnight when it began to happen.

Our creature had begun making this awful, moaning, keening noise around 10 that night. Mom and I had stroked its fur and whispered to it, trying to soothe it. We tried to read to it, but soon the noise became so loud that our voices couldn't be heard. I tried to school my face, look calm and composed, but inside I was panicking. I felt sick with terror. When it hit midnight, the creature went into a frenzy. Its leg scrambled desperately on the floor, trying to lift its body and turn itself over. I found its behavior very strange.

Exposing your belly can be such a vulnerable. position. And this was not a creature that liked to be vulnerable. Its struggles were so pathetic. It was heartbreaking. My mother and I reached out to it at the same time and turned it on its side, allowing its belly to breathe freely. Its great maw was gasping violently, its teeth on display like knives. I had forgotten about how terrifying its abdomen was, especially when it was aimed right at you. My mother moved to sit by me,

holding my hand as we continued to stroke the creature's fur. All of a sudden, my mother stopped and turned to me, her eyes bright as though alighting on something important. You don't think... But before she finished the question, It happened. The creature gave a deafening shriek, so loud I thought somebody might overhear and call the police as late as it was, and its abdomen opened. It looked as though its body was being ripped apart, its mouth and teeth stretching to the breaking point, exposing a deep black cavern.

And something was wriggling down inside it. I screamed and scrambled. away, overcome by fear as our guardian lay agonizing on the floor. My mother, however, reached inside its maw with both of her hands, pushing inside until she was elbow-deep in the creature. Mom, don't! But it was too late. My mother re-emerged.

Something small and black and slimy held in her arms. Cassie, get over here, now. You know how scary my mom is? She was kneeling in front of a giant, heaving creature with a black ball of what the hell is that in her arms. And I scrambled to get back to her side because she was using her no-nonsense voice. As soon as I got to her side,

she handed the bundle to me. Put this on the cot and then get back here. There's going to be more. As I rushed to the cot, I looked down at what my mother had thrust into my hands, unable to tell what exactly it was. But then, as I set it down on the bed, its four legs unfurled, and I gasped. It was a tiny, miniature version of our own creature, with soft, downy, black fur and skinny,

trembling legs. It too had a belly that opened into a mouth, but it was missing the sharp teeth I knew it would grow eventually. Once I set it down, it rolled over onto its torso and stretched before snuggling into the bed. It didn't cry. It didn't shriek for its mother. It simply hunkered down and waited for its siblings to be born. That was when we learned our creature wasn't an it, but a she. And she was having babies. There were ten babies and all. It seemed impossible that so many babies could fit inside anyone, even our hulking guardian.

But then again, our guardian had fattened up quite a bit to carry the babies. By the time my mother pulled the tent out, the runt of the litter, its legs remaining wrapped around itself in terror, even as I placed it with its siblings. Her body had deflated back to its normal size. For a few moments, my mother and I were silent, alternately staring at our creature and her children. After a few moments rest, our guardian lifted herself up and dragged. herself over to her babies. She was obviously exhausted, but she wouldn't rest until she had examined

all of her children. She poked and prodded at them, licking them and rubbing herself against them. Finally, she ascertained that they were all happy and healthy, although she fretted over her little runt much more than the others. It was a beautiful, heartwarming moment. Until, of course, I ruined it by saying, What are we going to do with 11 spider creature things? My mom just groaned. The babies grew up fast, which was both a joy and a problem.

They seemed like healthy, happy little babies, and their mother was very happy with them, but even she was getting exasperated after a while. Sure, the basement was big, but it was nowhere near big enough to house all of the children. It was clear that something had to be done. I, of course, had no good ideas as to how to handle the situation. My mother, on the other hand, has always been incredibly resourceful, and only a few days after the birth, she was struck with an idea.

Cassie, our library creature. She's been a good guardian to us, hasn't she? I agreed, although the question was clearly rhetorical, as she continued. And don't you think that there are other libraries out there that could use their own protectors? My eyes lit up with understanding. This time, my mom waited for me to give my opinion. She needn't have, because she and I are very much all. and we were both in agreement here.

Yes, other libraries around the world need their own guardians, and we were given the opportunity to provide them. My mom made a few calls and consulted with a few other librarians she trusted. Let me tell you, librarians are a secretive bunch, and they keep their mysteries hidden well. The other librarians were hesitant to believe my mother at first, but they came around rather quickly. You would be surprised what kind of things librarians see on a daily basis.

Things that make basement-dwelling spider monsters seem tame by comparison. Soon enough, we had nine takers for our little creatures. This happened to work out just fine, because while our guardian was happy to part with most of her children, she had taken a liking to the runt of the litter and wouldn't let him out of her sight. Well, we think it's a hymn. After all, what do we really know?

My mother and I arranged for the deliveries to occur at night. I remained behind with the guardian and the other children while she helped the delivery drivers. After all, we could only deliver about one each night. She also assisted each and every librarian with settling the creatures in their new homes, teaching them how to take care of the guardians and keep them happy. And now, all across Minnesota, there are libraries like ours, protected by their very own library guardians.

As for us? Well, now we have two library guardians. Of course, we have to be able to distinguish between them, so we decided to give them names. Our mommy, we call Joe from little women, because she is fearless and wonderful and kind, and we both love her to death. Her child, we have named Pip,

for he is small, but of him we have great expectations. They are happy in their basement home. Joe isn't lonely, even when my mom and I can't keep her company, because she has Pip by her side. Pip, although small, is growing up to be healthy and strong, at least as far as we can tell. They both come up to my mother and I when we come down to the basement. It seems they both like being read to and hand-fed.

and they absolutely love when we pet them. Once you get past the teeth and the legs and the fur, they're really quite sweet. Of course, there's one thing that has been bothering me, and I can tell it troubles my mother as well, although neither of us have said it out loud yet. See, the problem is, Well, how did Joe get pregnant in the first place?

The problem of Pip's parentage plagued my mother and I for quite some time. It was a few months before we made the discovery. In that time, Pip grew to be quite sizable. Apparently, these creatures have a tendency to grow pretty quickly because soon he was about half as big as his mother. Luckily, our basement is pretty big in and of itself, so we didn't have to worry too much about them having enough room. However, Pip, like any child, is somewhat rambunctious, and we noticed he became restless over time. As such, we had my father expand one of the windows just below the ceiling and install a window well.

My father doesn't know everything about Joe and Pip. He knows the absolute minimum. To be honest, he isn't much interested in creatures or anomalies or change of any sort. My mom and I handle the creatures, and that's good enough for him. When he came down to work on the window, Joe and Pip stayed far away from him in a shadowed corner. He returned to the favor and didn't bother them. Once he was finished, Joe and Pip had a way to get out of the library. Perhaps this sounds like something of a hazard, but it isn't nearly as concerning as you might think. The back of the library is fenced in, so when night falls,

the window well gave our little guardians the perfect opportunity to play around outside for a bit, get some fresh air, all while remaining hidden. Of course, for the first few weeks, my mother and I supervised any and all nighttime forays into the backyard. As time went on, however, it became patently obvious that the creatures were no danger to anyone else, and they certainly weren't in danger because they were more than capable of handling themselves.

By the time Dad had to be able to be able to be able to be able to be able to be able to be able. the time dad had finished the window well, and Pip and Joe had made full use of it, my mother and I had mostly given up on figuring out how Joe got pregnant. After all, we knew next to nothing about her species. Perhaps she had a long gestation period and had been pregnant even before I was born. Maybe she reproduced asexually. Either way, a thorough search of the library revealed that there were no guardians hidden in the building, so we decided it wasn't worth worrying about. Interestingly enough, the window well provided us with our answer.

It was about two months after we'd installed the window well. We'd noticed that Pip and Joe had been using it regularly. The window could be pushed open from the inside, but it didn't open from the outside, so Pip and Joe could use it at any point, but remain relatively protected inside the basement during the day. Until that point, they'd shown no qualms about using the window well. But then, suddenly, both our guardians began to keep well away from the window well.

They stayed huddled in the far corner of the basement, refusing to leave its shadows even during the day. Now, the last time Joe had behaved so, strangely, she'd given birth to a whole litter of spider-esque creatures. Naturally, my mom and I were concerned. We decided to stay overnight with Pip and Joe once again, trying to discern what exactly the problem was. We stayed in the basement and chatted, brushing both our creatures with soft bristled hairbrushes

to keep them calm. We'd discovered that they very much enjoy being brought. At first, nothing happened. The entire library was deathly quiet, aside from my mother's and my quiet conversation. The moonlight slithered in through the window and cast a pale glow on the basement floor. Otherwise, the world was pitch black and peaceful, but then the light disappeared. It took me a moment to register why that was strange. It was such a sudden shift, not as though a cloud had obscured the moon,

but as though something heavy and solid was blocking the window. And it was. There was a thud as something dropped into the window well. Pip, who I'd been brushing, drew back from my hand and tried to smush himself even further into the corner. I was trying to pet and soothe him when I heard a scratching noise come from the window. I almost screamed when mom grabbed my hand, but I managed to swallow down my surprise. She pulled at me, and I was horrified when I realized she was pulling me towards the window. She wanted to see what was out there. I knew she had a flashlight, but she hadn't

turned it on yet. I guessed that she didn't want to alert whatever was out there to our presence. We inched our way towards the window. The scratching became louder and louder. After a while, it stopped, only to be replaced by a loud tapping noise. It sounded as though someone was tapping a knife against the window. By the time we were halfway across the basement, We still couldn't see anything. Mom stopped moving, and I followed suit. I could hear her fumble with the flashlight, and I held my breath as I waited for the burst of light.

We only had a few seconds to see what was on the other side of the glass. I caught sight of thick, dark fur, spindly legs, and a massive body crammed into the relatively spacious window well. One of the legs had split into multiple finger-like appendages that drummed slowly against the glass panes. As soon as the light hit it, it shrieked and scrambled up the window well, dragging its heaving body along like it was made of lead. I think if I'd been capable of moving at all, I might have screamed. As it was, I stood still. my heart hammering so quickly that I wondered if I was actually having a heart attack.

My senses came back to me slowly, and I realized that Pip and Joe were still cowering in the corner, paralyzed by fear. The implications of what we'd just seen hit me like a train, and I realized, not only are there more creatures like Pip and Joe, but those, creatures are living in our hometown, outside, completely free, and they might not be as kind as our guardians. That night in the basements taught us a few very valuable things. First of all, there are other creatures out there, one of which had made its home somewhere in our community. Second of all, it must have gotten into the library at some point. How was a problem neither my mother nor I could answer.

Third, it scared Pip and Joe. This was, in all likelihood, not a benevolent creature. Fourth, it was both larger and potentially more aggressive than Joe. The most important, The important thing we learned was how very much we didn't know about the creatures. We knew that Joe liked to eat sweets and mainly lived on sugar, but I'd seen for myself that she could eat meat and lots of it. In the wild, what do these creatures choose to eat?

Where do they come from? Do they usually choose one home for their entire lives, or are they nomads? Do they mate for life? Can they be killed? If so, how? The last thought sort of sickened me. I don't even like killing insects, much less giant, furry, living creatures. But when I thought of how terrified it made Joe and Pip, well,

I was somewhat less inclined to be charitable. But before we even got to that point, we would have to figure out where it lived, and that was going to require some research. So, while my mother searched for answers in the chaotic hell called Public Records, my dad and I covered the window well, temporarily, of course,

and placed extra locks on the library to keep it safe. It was another few weeks before my mom found anything. To be honest, my mom found answers surprisingly quickly, what with our general lack of information to go off of. What ended up triggering it was a news story from 1976, one that had never received a real explanation. My mother only investigated it on a hunch.

The newspaper had reported, on a recent increase in missing children, four in one year. In a small town, that's a big deal. They were all young, 10 and under, and subsequent research showed that none of them had been found. They all had one thing in common. They'd last been seen in the old cemetery at the edge of town. When I was growing up, everyone thought that it was haunted, because, it wasn't in use anymore and had mostly fallen in ruin.

Turns out that the cemetery was shut down after the children disappeared, and for a while after that, things continued on as normal. But there were still disappearances over the years. A child here and there, a few adults who most people assumed had skipped town. One teenage girl who was a suspected suicide, although her body was never recovered. My mom was really stuck on that cemetery. Do you think we could find something if we went to the cemetery?

Maybe a clue? I asked once my mother had showed me her findings. She hesitated before answering. I think it's the only way to find the creature, but it could be dangerous. If we go, we should go during the day. And we should bring weapons. Although I don't want to attempt to kill it unless we absolutely have to. At least not yet.

And so we made our preparations. The next day, my mom and I headed for the cemetery. Although we were going around noon, we still brought a flashlight just in case. After all, we knew that Pip and Joe liked dark spaces. We also had a length of rope and a crowbar. Finally, each of us carried a pistol. My mother isn't a particularly good marksman, but I seem to have inherited the skill from my father,

so I chose the gun with which I was the most accurate. Now, because my mom does a lot of genealogy for her patrons, I was somewhat familiar with the abandoned cemetery. She and I had traipsed through it a few times, looking for some of the older graves. It was always a pain because nobody took care of it, so it had fallen to ruin. Weeds obscured most of the stones, and some of them had completely sunk in into the ground. Some of the graves had also fallen in, the wood coffins having degraded over time.

The first thought my mom and I had was that the creature had burrowed into some of the graves, perhaps some of the graves that hadn't caved in as of yet. If we could just find a hole or opening, we'd be able to locate the creature. Unfortunately, after a few hours of stumbling around and cursing at hidden rocks and headstones, we came up with nothing. I'm a bit ashamed to admit it, but I was ready to give up. While my mom was on her hands and knees, practically combing through the long grass, at one of the edges of the graveyard,

I sat on one of the larger protruding headstones and wondered how long it would be before she was satisfied and we could go home. It just so happened that, as I was sitting there, I was facing the grove at the edge of the cemetery. It was a rather expansive grove, one that I would have enjoyed playing in as a kid, were it not for all the legends and horror stories about the cemetery,

it bordered. As such, I'd never really bothered to notice it. I noticed it then, and I saw something incongruous, peeking out from behind the trees just enough to give me pause. As my mother was too focused on her task to notice my absence, I didn't bother informing her as I headed for the woods. I figured I would be back in a few minutes, tops. It was probably nothing after all. Well, I was wrong about that. It took some doing, climbing over fallen trees and struggling through tangled foliage, but once I arrived, the effort was well worth it.

In front of me stood a rotted wooden chapel, its boards long since falling away, but still somewhat intact. It must have accompanied the cemetery long ago, only to be overtaken by the encroaching grove. I didn't want to get too close, but the roof was still mostly in place, and it looked dark inside. I scrambled back to tell my mom.

When I explained what I had found, her eyes lit up, and I knew that she'd happened upon the same suspicion that I had. We returned to the chapel together, intent on a little ill-advised exploration. At first, my mother didn't want me to go in. Too dangerous, she said. Bullshit.

I didn't care that I'd get read the riot act later and plunged through the decrepit door into sure darkness. The flashlight was in. invaluable as mom and I gave the area a quick once over. The interior of the chapel was fairly small and littered with memoirs of the faithful dead, overturned pews, a rickety altar, and what appeared to be a rather ancient-looking Bible on top of it. It was gloriously creepy, but there was no creature in sight. Where could it? Where could it be? be? My mom tugged at my shirt sleeve and pointed to a far corner of the chapel. Under the

statue of Mary, that sagged dangerously under its unstable platform, there was a dark patch that, once illuminated by our flashlight, revealed itself to be a large hole. I had a feeling that we'd found our creature. With light, hesitant footer, steps, I crossed the length of the chapel, hearing the floorboards groan in protest under my weight. My mom hissed something at me, probably telling me to stay behind, but there was no way I was leaving without proof. I shuffled my way over to the hole and got down on my knees, peering into its abyss and shining my light straight down. The beam of light hit something long. and spindly.

It yanked itself out of the light immediately, and I heard it scrambling away into a darker corner. I jerked back and raced across the floor, praying to gods I don't remember that it wouldn't give. My mom grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the door so hard I tumbled into the grass. I sat there, heaving on the ground as she glared at me as only a mother can, furious with my bravery turned stupidity. I gave her an apologetic smile,

and that only made her glower more intense. Well, at least we knew where the creature was. I think the only thing that stopped me from getting grounded. And yes, my mother can and still does ground me at 22. What can I say? She's terrifying. was the fact that we had found this creature and it needed to be taken care of permanently.

Now, my personal opinion was that the creature needed to be killed, exterminated, preferably via a mix of bullets and fire, to ensure that it wouldn't be coming back for any more surprise late-night visits. My mom was having none of it. We don't know that it's violent. It might be just as gentle and docile as Joe and Pip.

I gave my mother a skeptical look and reminded her of the way Joe and Pip had reacted to it. Both of them were utterly and completely terrified. They felt threatened. When my mother asserted that it was still no reason to kill another creature, I brought up all the missing children. For all we know, the creature could have mauled them alone. And for all we know it didn't. My mom never did like baseless speculation, if that's what you'd call this.

However, on the off chance that this creature was violent and hungry, we couldn't just leave it to its own devices. Therein lay the problem. How would we go about determining if it was a threat? And if it was, how would we go about defeat? using said threat. But then, of course, an enthusiastic email from another librarian 20 miles away reminded us. We weren't the only ones who knew about the creatures.

Oh, no. There were a slew of librarians who had creatures of their own to take care of. And certainly, they'd learned a thing or two about them in the process. us. My mother's first move was to contact Clark. As the library director for the county, he was the one who authorized the move of the guardians to their new homes. He was a tall man, somewhat quiet, but very intelligent and a skilled problem solver. If anyone could help us, it would be him. And sure enough, the second mom finished detailing our findings to Clark over the phone. He already had a plan. We'll get together a team of librarians to help us.

Let's have Sharon Thompson, Annalise Trent, and Michael Kramer to start with. Sharon has a lot of Michael teaches a rock climbing class on the weekend so he can get us into the hole and out of it. And Annalise, she has an impressive background in chemistry. chemistry. We still aren't sure how it moves around and operates, but she could put together a few chemical solutions that could confuse it, perhaps through obfuscating one or more of its senses. In the event that the creature is dangerous or tries to attack us, she could be our first line of defense and the least violent. And if the creature is a threat? Well, then we'll need a team designated for extermination.

I've got a few people in mind. Let me make some calls. I'll get back to you with a full list later tonight. With that, he ended the call, leaving my mother and I to wait in nervous anticipation for whatever might come next. A few nights later, nine of us found ourselves outside of the decrepit chapel in the woods,

staring an uncertain future in the face. The first to arrive was Clark, followed closely by my mother and I. He found three other librarians to assist in the potential extermination, should the situation call for it. One was a woman of impressive stature and stern countenance, and her name was Mary Sue. I chose not to comment on it. then there were two men one was a refined lean man named thomas chung and one was a gruffer sort who simply went by bub finally sharon annelice and michael had all made good on their promise to come we made something of an odd team standing there in the dark unsure of exactly how to proceed luckily Clark took the lead, and before I knew it, we were swallowed up by the darkness of the chapel. Michael went in first, examining the hole in the floor and peering inside.

As he was unable to see the creature, it must have scurried away into one of the corners, he deemed it safe to enter. Well, as safe as it could possibly be. He attached several ropes to various pillars and beams that he deemed sound. I wasn't entirely sure I trusted him, but Clark went first and proved the way down was safe as houses. We all followed, with Michael last, as he supervised our descent. It was nerve-wracking, climbing deeper into the darkness without knowing for certain what it obscured, but Annalise informed us she had brought a combination of noise and light-making devices.

They're fireworks. We waited in the darkness for the others to follow. I'd like to say I came up with some foolproof chemical solution, but as it is, this seemed like the easiest and most effective route. I liked her rather a lot. By the time we were all in the basement, our apprehension had become almost intolerable. I could feel that we weren't alone, but it wasn't the same feeling I got when I was with Pip and Joe. Tension was radiating from somewhere in the basement. The creature wasn't entirely happy that we'd encroached in its lair.

Well, too late to back down now. On the count of three, we all switched on our flashlights, keeping them trancheed. on the floor at first, we didn't want to startle the creature. Clark was the first to move his beam of light, sweeping across the basement to survey his surroundings. Of all of us, he was the calmest, the steadiest, yet he almost dropped his flashlight when it landed on a pile of rotting bones strewn across the floor. His flashlight traced the bones to the backlust. His flashlight traced the bones to the back left corner. There was considerable more carnage there, ending in a pile of remains that had far too many

tiny skulls for us to be comfortable. And on top of the pile sat a mound of fur and legs. There was no doubt in any of our minds that the creature was connected to the disappearances in the area, perhaps going back hundreds of years. The creature bristled as the light hit it, so Clark calmly lowered his flashlight, leaving it shrouded in the darkness once again. I didn't like that. Did you get a good look at it?

I... She paused for a moment, trying to pull words out of thin air. Finally, she finished. I don't know what the fuck that thing is, but if you're set on camera, killing it. Seems likely. I couldn't help but agree with his assessment. Then I can tell you its legs are stronger than they look, and they're long, so it will probably try to attack from afar. That leads me to believe its torso isn't well protected. Most likely, its belly is a weak spot. Our best bed is to get it to show its mouth. That's the surefire way to kill it.

My knees felt a little weak as I imagined that giant creature pulling itself up on its tentacle legs and opening its maw to devour us. Oh, great, this was gonna be fun. All conversation halted when we began to hear it, a deep sound emanating from the darkness that raised the hairs on the back of my neck and gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach. It was a sound I'd never heard from Pip and Joe, even when they were frightened or sick. It was a growl. Before any of us had time to react, the creature appeared in Clark's beam of light, launching itself at Annalise. It might have gotten her, had Thomas not stepped in front of her. He'd brought along an axe, which proved to be a fantastic choice as the creature tried to spear him. He swung with precision and buried his axe in the creature's leg, not quite severing it.

The creature wrenched its leg back with a strangled sort of screeching, as Bub came to join Thomas in keeping the creature at bay. He fired a few rounds from his shotgun, and I noticed that each time the creature flinched, not from the impact of the bullet, which seemed to have very little effect as they hit the creature's back, but from the sound it made. Annalise noticed it too. Stand back! Her voice was loud enough to rise over the din of Thomas and Bub fighting the beast,

but calm and self-assured all the same. The two exterminators barely managed to get out of the way as she set off several sparklers and tossed them towards the beast. The lights and noise confused the creature. It reared up. It's uninjured up. legs flailing to protect it from the fireworks. Mary Sue took the opportunity to slide underneath it. At that moment, I was sure she was dead. The creature sensed her beneath it and covered her immediately,

its dagger-like teeth intent on disemboweling her, perhaps as an example to the rest of us. Unfortunately for it, she had a few daggers of her own, two, to be exact. For a long moment, there was a silent struggle between Mary Sue and the Beast. Thomas and Bub tried to get closer to help, but the creature was vigilant against them. Fortunately, this was the perfect distraction, and Mary planted one of the knives deep in the creature's gut. It screamed in pain and fury as she wiggled the dagger deeper and deeper into its flesh. It tried to spear her with its tentacles, but her position was rather strategic, and it couldn't reach her without losing balance in toppling over. Eventually, it did, and she leapt onto it, stabbing the creature to death with her other knife, as Thomas separated its strong limbs from its body with his axe.

It seemed to take a long time for the creature to stop moving, although in actuality the whole expedition had taken only about 20 minutes, and the death couldn't have taken more than two. Seeing the mangled remains of the beast made me a little sick to my stomach, although it was blatantly obvious that it had spent the majority of its life mawling children to death, and certainly deserved no sympathy from me. I couldn't help but shudder. What a way to die. Now, at this point, we had a decision to make, a very unfortunate one at that. Here we were in this rotting chapel, essentially sitting on a giant dead monster and a heap of human remains. The only way to explain the remains was with the giant monster, but it wasn't as though we could just call up the police and reveal our secret.

After all, if people found out about this monster, they'd find out about Pip and Joe. I couldn't foresee any way that would end well. And yet, we couldn't let the bodies just rot away into nothingness. Those victims had families, people who were still looking for them, waiting for them. In the end, it was my mother who came up with the idea. and fortunately Clark remembered to bring the gasoline. Pip and Joe still like to go outside at night. It's safe for them now, you see.

And now that they're finally at ease and happy, my mom and I can relax a bit. Oh, there's always fun moments with them. The time that Pip tried to climb the stairs and tripped, almost breaking a tentacle. the time that Joe got, the stomach flu? We still aren't quite sure what kind of illnesses she can and can't get, but let me tell you, the creatures can throw up a lot when the occasion calls for it. And Ginger soothes their stomachs just like it does for humans. Yes, there's never a dull moment with our creatures,

but that's how we like it. We love them, and we would do anything, give up anything to protect them. As for the victims of the monster, in order to incinerate human bones, the fire has to burn much hotter than the measly flames we set off at the chapel. The chapel went up in flames quickly,

as dry as the wood was. and the fire department came about 20 minutes after we'd left the scene. By the time they arrived, all that remained of the chapel was the bones and some ashes. And, of course, a few strange bones with fur still stuck to them. In the end, the police would never identify what creature they came from, and I suppose they never will. They did, however, manage to identify almost all of the victims.

Additionally, each and every library that received a creature has named a room or section after one of the victims. Perhaps for those people, there will never be a happy ending, but we genuinely hope this brings them some semblance of peace wherever they are. My mom and I are still vigilant for more creature sightings. After all, it would appear that there are both good and bad creatures, just as there are good and bad people. However, life has returned to its relative peace,

and all the guardians are flourishing in their new homes. So, the next time you go to the local library, Take your time to look around, find a book, and think to yourself. What's hiding in your library basement? It's our nocturnal presentation. Now it's time to drift off into your own nightmares. If you would like to find out how you can hear the full-length versions of our audio program, please visit the no-sleeppodcast.com to learn about our...

season pass program, 25 episodes, each over two hours long, and three exclusive bonus episodes, all for only 1999. On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening. Join us again next week. We'll have more stories for you and whatever that is standing right behind you. This audio production is copyright 2016. by Creative Reason Media, Inc. All rights reserved. The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors. No duplication or reproduction of this audio program

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