BITE Chapter 9
The Library and The Beloved
September 24, 2021
I visited the library just like the doctor suggested. The place was fucking huge. It looked like something out of a movie. There were endless rows of bookshelves that were each several stories tall, and each was completely filled with books without an inch of space wasted. I honestly couldn’t tell you how large the space was; I never saw it all. It was like one of those libraries that can only exist in cartoons. I struggled to believe there were even that many books ever written. They all had those ladders that you could slide around to get the higher up books, but I wasn’t going to use them. These were more like the ones firemen would use to climb to the top of skyscrapers, and God knows if I could survive a fall from even halfway up. I couldn’t even see the tops of them.
I never learned the Dewey Decimal System. I was sure it probably came up in elementary school or something, but why bother with learning that shit when there’s the internet, you know? What I’m saying is I had no idea where to even look for books on “hyporegivoluntatis”. Did I need to try to find a section for the letter H, or for a section on diseases? Fuck if I knew.
I chose an aisle at random to check just to orient myself. I was hoping I could at least get a feel for which types of books were grouped together, but I had no such luck. The issue is that I think I was in some foreign language section or some shit. I couldn’t read any of the titles of any of the books, and I was starting to get a nasty headache just from trying. I gave up pretty quickly, only I realized I was lost once I stopped. I must have wandered pretty far, because all I could see on either side of me was this endless stretch of bookshelves.
Well, that’s not all I could see. We can chalk this up to my nightmares, my headache, me getting a little panicked from being lost, whatever. I’m choosing to believe it was some combo of all of that. Still, I could swear I saw one of those hooded figures from my nightmares. It was just out of the corner of my eye. There’s no way it was real. At the time, this didn’t stop me from running. I’m glad there wasn’t one of those stereotypical librarian types to tell me to stop making noise, because my footsteps echoed pretty damn loudly. I wasn’t really paying attention, so I didn’t see the very real lady in front of me until I crashed into her.
“Sorry, sorry,” I stuttered as I helped her back up.
She brushed herself off and smiled at me. “Oh, don’t worry, dear. We all take a stumble sometimes on the path to serving The King.”
The woman was slim, white, and dressed in the same loose-fitting white clothes as everyone else here. She had raven black hair with a few strands that turned gray. That, plus her smile lines and sunspots, told me she was a bit older than me. I could see some obvious but faded track marks on her arms, and she had some scars on her wrists that told a story of a rough life that nearly ended too soon. It’s a story I might have told myself if things had gotten a little worse for a little too long.
I checked behind me quickly to make sure there was no sign of the hooded figure, and thankfully, there wasn’t. I turned back as fast as I could to face the woman. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to be rude, or didn’t want her to notice I was running from something. It was her smile. Something about it unnerved me. It was less like she was giving a polite or even a happy smile. It was more manic, more forced than that. It gave me the creeps.
“My bad,” I said. “Anyways…”
I tried walking past her, but she stepped in my way.
“Hi,” she said, still wearing that forced smile. “My name’s Sarah. What’s yours?”
I told her my name.
“Oh, what a beautiful name,” she said. “Isn’t it so great here, basking in the glory of The King?”
“Yeah, sure. Of course,” I said.
I’ve met my fair share of these types. You know what I’m talking about, right, Luke? She was clearly some sort of former addict. She found the light, or God, or The King, I guess. Now religion is her new addiction. She goes at it just a little too hard. Chances are, she’s told her existence as a former addict makes her a miracle, too, and we all know that doesn’t help make them any less zealous. I wanted to get out of here before she pushed her entire life story on me and tried to convert me. I tried to get around her, but she again just stepped in front of me.
“It’s just so amazing,” she sighed. “Even people like us can experience forgiveness for our sins. It’s never too late, you know?”
I made the mistake of asking, “Sins?” I was caught off guard and was annoyed that again, some complete stranger was assuming I was a bad person or had done some bad shit. She was right, but she couldn’t know that. “What do you mean by sins? We don’t know each other.”
“Well, I know your name and you know mine, so that means we do know each other, right?” Sarah replied. “And I mean, everyone sins, not to mention we’re, well, you know…”
She looked at me expectantly like I could read her mind.
“We’re what?.”
“Women,” she said.
I raised my eyebrows. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” she said. “Even me.” Out of nowhere, she pulls up her shirt. I look away, but I catch a glimpse of what looks like surgery scars before I do. “I had a full hysterectomy, but Pieman says I’m still a woman. He even says I’ll be able to bear children through the grace of The King. Isn’t that just wonderful?”
I nod slowly. “Yeah. Good for you.” This bitch is crazy, let me tell you. “Listen, I’ve gotta get going.”
She stepped in front of me again as I tried to pass. I wasn’t having any of her shit, and I was done being polite. I shoved her into one of the shelves. She caught herself, knocking over several books in the process.
“Get out of my way, bitch,” I snapped.
Sarah brushed herself off and gave me a withering glare, like the kind your grandma might give some punk teenager who’s sagging their pants or blaring rap music.
“Hmmph,” she chided. “Well, I never.”
I tried to ignore her and move on, but she grabbed my wrist and turned me around. I instinctively got ready to start swinging, but all she did was hold out a book with her free hand.
“Is this what you were looking for?”
I snatched it from her. It was a large, hefty, thick-as-a-dictionary book with a sturdy leather cover. The title read “Diseases of the Mind, Body, and Soul” by a Doctor Bubba Zaile.
Her grimace shifted into a furloughed brow and concerned frown. “I’m sorry I was in your way,” she said. “Do you have hyporegivonuntatis?”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve heard of it?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Heard of it? I used to have it. I should have seen it right away. I know what you’re going through right now. I shouldn’t have been so pushy.” She drew her gaze to the floor. “I was just hoping to make a new friend.”
I avoided her eyes out of shame. Her religious zeal wasn’t something I could relate to. But loneliness? Consider me a fucking expert.
“Thanks,” I muttered. “Yeah, who knows. I won’t be here too long, but maybe we will keep in touch. King willing,” I added, unsure of if that was something these people would say.
Sarah slapped her hands and giggled like a schoolgirl. “Oh, wonderful! Maybe we can be mothers and raise our kids together. I can already see the play dates. I hope we both have sons.”
“Yeah; sure. We can do that together.” I started walking away before her excitement got the better of her again. “I gotta go,” I said over my shoulder.
“King be with you,” she called as I speed walked away.
I got out of there as fast as I could. I hope to God, or The King, or whatever that this book has some instructions, tips, or something to stop the nightmares before I have another. I’ve only had one, and now I’m seeing shit when I’m awake. Are hallucinations one of the symptoms? Or is this all really just alcohol withdrawal? It would be better if it was. I’m well familiar with the cure for that, and then I could finally leave this damn place.