The Curator's Library

Searching for a rare text on the occult can bring you to some strange places indeed. You're not quite sure where you heard about the mysterious underground library, but you somehow find yourself there. The air is musty, yet strangely dry, which makes no sense as the underground tunnels of your city are quite close to the river. The air pushing against you as you enter the unusual archway to the library is hot, arid even - just as you would imagine in a desert.
Stepping into the entryway you are instantly reminded of a haunted house, with crumbling classical facades, dusty alcoves, and softly glowing candles. For a moment you worry about so much flame around so many books, but your anxiety quickly melts away as it is replaced by awe. The aisles - or rather, avenues - of books seem to extend forever into the darkness. If you didn't know any better, you'd say there was a mist obscuring the far reaches of the library, but of course that wouldn't make sense... would it?
"Hello?" You call out into the quiet.
Only shadows answered, flickering across surfaces as the candle flames sputtered.
Unsure of what to do next, you start walking, bringing up dust as you move. It seemed as if the library had been abandoned for decades, the dust coating everything with no signs of disturbance until your arrival.
As you walk through the ghostly avenues, your eyes skip across various titles, searching for the tome you desire. Some of the letters shift under your gaze, twisting and melting away into the spine as if you hide. Normally this would warrant some investigation, but once you looked away you couldn't quite recall what you'd seen in the first place.
After searching for who knows how long - it could have been minutes or days - you began to wonder if there just might be a librarian to call on. Surely you were deep enough in the maze of books that they should be aware of your presence?
Once more, you call into the darkness.
"Hello? I think I'm lost!" Your voice sounds small and afraid,exactly what you were trying to avoid.
The books seem to shiver on the shelves and you swear you hear voices whispering. Strange apparitions dance across your vision, disappearing before you can process them. Soon, you hear the sound of something moving in your direction.
Paralyzed now, you watch as a shadowed figure morphs out of the fog between the shelves. A thick robe with a large hood covered the head, obscuring your view of their face. Chains clanked as they moved, wrapping around their arms and neck like a constrictor. The robes scraped against the floor and you could almost mistake the sound for leaves in the wind.
You wonder if, perhaps, you may have made a mistake. Should you be afraid? Whatever stood in front of you know, you felt it in your bones that it was not human.
“Hmm?” An amused hum tumbled out of the hood. It was followed by a dry, but definitely not creepy voice. “A human? My, but this is interesting. Here of all places. And alone.”
The word 'alone' causes you to worry, but you dare not speak. Just because whatever it is doesn't sound like a monster doesn't mean it isn't. The shadows under the robes worry you. They don’t want you to see what is in there.
The robed figure leans down to your eye level, causing the chains to clink against each other with the movement. Somehow, you can sense it's smiling at you.
"Welcome, seeker, to the Library."
Somehow you find courage enough to try your voice. "What - I mean, WHO are you?"
The being laughs and the hot wind from before blows against your skin, triggering images of a hot midday sun over scorching sands and endless blue skies.
"What and who I am is the same, seeker. I am the Curator and the Library is my charge."
The books whisper around you, sounding pleased.
You wonder one last time if you made a mistake. Looking at the Curator and surrounded by the hushed whispers of ancient tomes, you cannot help but wonder.

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