The book

After wasting one hour of my life waiting for my turn to enlist, which by the way, the angry moustache dude saw as an opportunity to lecture me about safety regulations and such, I finally managed to enter the dorm entrance.

Have you ever been to a gallery? well, ill be damned, the moment I set foot in the dormitory, searching for any clue as to where my assigned room was, I had to be stared at by hundreds of paintings of the so-called elites that have graduated from this place and got a name for themselves.

If my mother wasn't insisting on me enrolling here, I would be out of this cringy hell hole already. If I wanted to be dressed as a pretentious

spoiled brat, I could have easily visited the local carnival they have now and then and even enjoy myself a little.

Trying to navigate my way towards the notice board while being surrounded by snobs and elitists that think the world should be grateful for their presence didn't make my life any easier as I tried to squeeze my path towards freedom. Not even sardines are this close and stuck with each other, FFS.

Took me five agonizing minutes to reach the notice board only to realize I was in the wrong section of the building. It appears that I had to cross the hall, pass the library and go towards the reception where all the newcomers were given some general advice and, of course, a map to help guide them towards the numerous classes you had to attend.

After walking 10 minutes in a hall filled with portraits of former students that managed to shock the world, either by solving a difficult agricultural problem or outright preventing a nuclear war with some not-so-ethical ways, I was finally about to reach my destination.

''Hooray for me I guess, I am almost there!''

Passing the library I suddenly stopped. ''So this is where my dad used to work'' I mumbled before stopping. A door made out of bronze with some weird-looking silver patterns was the only thing that stood before me, like a silent guardian judging all those who chose to cross it.

''I must be overthinking things again'' I thought, before deciding to push open the door.

My father used to say that the library is a growing, evolving organism. Without change, the library will cease to be relevant. Eras may pass, and humanity may crumble but the concept of the library will always stay alive, waiting for its new successor to continue its undying work of preserving the knowledge of the sapient.

As I entered the library, what welcomed me wasn't the familiar smell of decaying wood and paper but the friendly embrace of endless rows of books, ready to be picked up, expanding the horizon of the ones destined to learn from them.

If heaven is real, I just encountered it. The number of books in this library must at least be over the million mark. It looks like the top academy isn't at the top for no reason.

Strolling between the selves, trying to smell the distinct aroma that books tend to emit yet fail, probably because of the air filters that were used to preserve the books in their pristine condition, I made my way towards the stairs. Greedy and full of curiosity about what this library had to offer, I couldn't help but tread sneakily, afraid of getting kicked out were I to make noise or disturb the eerie silence libraries were so famous for.

It didn't take me long to find my way down the stairs and up to a new set of corridors waiting to be explored by yours truly.

Even since I was young, I wanted to see for myself why my dad was so passionate about books, and this passion of his, combined with my need of being closer to him, shaped me into the average bookworm I am today.

Walking down the corridors, enjoying myself reading the titles of various books that caught my interest, I stumbled upon a tiny gap that could barely fit my hand on one of the walls. With various books not catalogued yet thrown beside it in a failed attempt to conceal it, I couldn't help but reach my hand and see if there was anything in it.

Looks like I got some adventurous spirit from my mom as well, I mused, before a mechanical click was heard and the gap revealed itself to be a weird-looking handle of a door. ''Who is up for a new adventure,'' I said quite proudly, using all of my strength to push open the door.

To my dismay, there weren't any piles of gold, skeleton guards ready to defend the secrets this room had to offer, cow webs the size of a stadium above my head, ready to devour me.

''A chair a desk and a book? that's it?'' I grumbled before grabbing the black-leathered book ready to unlock its secrets!

''No title? that's strange. how do I open you, little guy?'' I said with a grin on my face before a sudden pain in my chest followed by blood spilling all over the book greeted me instead.

Trying desperately with all my might to turn around to see who was the one who shot me, only to collapse on the desk instead, knocking down the chair and the now blood-soaked book to the floor, I tried to catch my breath.

'Let's get rid of his mother as well, we don't want any noise from the media'' whispered a voice before another loud bang turned my vision black.

The book opened, unveiling a red snake circulating a hand trying to reach the sky, vanishing in the air along with the fresh blood that painted it.