Room 313
“We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.” ~ H. P. Lovecraft
In the University District of Seattle, there is a peculiar little bookshop.
It is a haven for bookworms and comic enthusiasts alike, tucked away on a side street lined with charming stores. On a sunny afternoon a college student named Eliza decided to escape the monotony of her daily routine so she cut her sociology class to explore the more esoteric shelves of this shop. She thought of herself as being too ordinary—that she needed something off-beat to stimulate her imagination.
As she wandered through the aisles her eyes she looked with curiosity at the garish covers of comic books and graphic novels. Digging amongst the trashy pop, Eliza found an old leather-bound tome wedged in a top shelf. It seemed out of place among the colorful graphic novels; its spine was adorned with faded runes and symbols. Intrigued, she took it down and gently traced her fingers over the ancient markings. Upon opening it, Eliza felt a strange energy.
She had found want she was looking for in that mysterious tome.
There was no penciled-in price on the flyleaf, so she took it over to a bewhiskered clerk at the checkout desk.
“Excuse me, do you have a price for this book?”
“Huh,” said the clerk, “I don’t recall it, let me see if it is our computer.”
“Is there a problem?” Eliza said as she experienced a mini-panic attack while the clerk checked his files.
“No, sometimes we do get books that aren’t in the system. There is no ISBN, no date or publisher either. It was probably a vanity press, how about eight bucks?”
All she had was seven dollars. “I can’t do it. Maybe five?”
“Seven.”
Still too much. “Six?”
“Six and a quarter. My last offer,” said the clerk, with an off-putting grin.
“Okay…”
“With tax it comes to $6.66”
Eliza paid for the book and headed for the door. As she stepped out of the quaint little shop, clutching the ancient tome she had just purchased, she felt a strange tingling sensation crawl up her spine. The book seemed to vibrate faintly in her hands, as if whispering secrets no one could understand. With each step she took, the world around her began to warp and shift. Colors bled together, and the familiar sounds of the bustling city became a discordant racket. Panic gripped her heart as the familiar streets she knew so well looked strange. Shaken, Eliza headed to the campus quad where she thought things would be calmer. Before she could get there she was greeted by a ragged busker strumming his guitar. He began to sing:
In the city of emeralds strange faces collide
Little girl lost in the chaos of the neon lights
Every street corner is a symphony of LOUD
A concrete jungle from whence dreams erupt
Pulse of the city can't be contained
Fusing of cultures in a vibrant display
Chaotic energy alive with the beat
Strange and wild children lost in the madness
Chaos thrives, chaos rules
The book in Eliza’s hands was really humming now and the runes on the cover began to glow a deep red. Reaching the usually tranquil quad, typically a picturesque scene of students lounging on the grass or strolling between classes, she saw it transformed into something eerie and unsettling, trees seemed to be hunched over; twisted limbs reaching out in every direction; air suffused with an inexplicable tension; leaves rustling ominously in what seemed to be sinister whispers.
Suddenly, the campus crows that perched in the branches of the trees lining the quad erupted into cacophonous caws. As they took flight their black forms swirled in the sky, their eyes gleaming with an unsettling intelligence, and their sharp beaks seemed to embody malice as they circled above and cast menacing shadows on the ground below.
The shrubbery lining the edges of the square appeared to come alive, gyrating and writhing as if possessed by some demonic force. Eliza set the book down and the scene immediately returned to normal—the busker gone, the crows returned to their branches, and the vegetation once again benign. When she touched the book with the tip of her boot nothing happened, but when she touched it with her fingers, the red glow returned to the letters. “
Perhaps it is my skin that causes the reaction,” she mused as she dug a pair of gloves out of her bag, “
This should do the trick.”
It seemed to work.
She put the strange book into her bag and left the Quad, walking over to Hansee Hall. It was the oldest dorm on campus; a “quiet” dorm. She thought that it would be just the place to explore the odd little book. Legend had it that room 313,
her dorm room, was haunted—cursed by a tragic event long ago. Eliza had heard the stories but dismissed them as mere campus folklore, although she had noticed peculiar occurrences—doors slamming shut on their own, whispers echoing in the dead of night, and, at times, an unshakable chill that seemed to linger in the air. Eliza had discovered that years ago a student named Sarah had lived in that room. Sarah was an introverted girl with a passion for the occult. One fateful night, after being spurned by a lover, Sarah attempted to seek revenge by summoning demonic spirits using an ancient ritual she had found in an old book.
The ritual went horribly wrong. Something malevolent answered her call, unleashing a dark force that consumed Sarah and left the room tainted with its presence. From that day on, Room 313 became a place of fear and dread. Eliza was undeterred. Armed with her curiosity and a desire to uncover the truth, she thought the book could be a portal to communicate with whatever spirits lingered there.
Eliza began to conduct her own séance, laying her bare hands on the book with mysterious symbols, closing her eyes, she began to concentrate. At first, there was only silence. But when a cold breeze swept through the room the atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation.
Suddenly, a figure materialized before Eliza—a spectral apparition with hollow eyes and a haunting aura. She sensed that it was Sarah, the girl who had once inhabited her room. Through whispered voices and eerie gestures, Sarah conveyed her anguish and her longing for peace.
Emily listened intently, her heart filled with empathy for the tormented spirit. She promised to help Sarah find solace and release her from the shackles of the curse that bound her to Room 313. The book opened to a page of an incantation in glowing letters that Eliza read and spoke these words out loud:
Spirits bound by chains unseen,
In the realms where shadows glean,
I call upon the ancient light,
To grant you freedom from the night.
Through the veil that separates,
Where spirits linger, bound by fates,
I break the bonds that hold you fast,
And set you free to roam at last.
Release the ties that bind your soul,
Let the energies now make you whole,
From this realm, you shall depart,
To find peace in the endless heart.
As the final words of the incantation echoed through the room, a blinding light filled the space, and Eliza felt as if a wave of peace had washed over her. The curse had been lifted and Sarah’s spirit had finally been freed. When Eliza opened her eyes, she found herself alone in room 313.
The book had vanished.
Friday Fiction , YA edition.
