The night was cold and eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the once vibrant evenings of Westbrook. The streets, now shrouded in an oppressive stillness, were only traversed by those seeking trouble and the few brave souls tasked with stopping it.
Inside the dimly lit town library, Jensen, a fresh-faced recruit on the police force, stood vigilant. Typically, his eyes sparkled with optimism, and confidence that showcased his broad shoulders. Tonight, however, he put on a different demeanor as he guarded the grand marble entrance, his movements tense and robotic. The imposing doors with intricate designs, stood behind him, casting long shadows across the floor. Jensen's steps echoed through the streets, a reminder of the uneasy silence that settled over Westbrook.
"This is stupid," he thought to himself, kicking the dirt in annoyance. "Why does a library need watching over? Who's stealing books? I should be posted in the museum or in the bank."
"That's for decorated officers and more trusted men. We wouldn't want you tossing your dirt all over our money now, would we?" Harrison said, mocking Jensen from the balcony. He was a chubby fellow with a mischievous look to him, and he was always smirking. His uniform didn't fit because of his size, so he had to cut the sleeves, showing his arms that were as big as a bear's.
"Careful, Harry that dirt could get in your eyes" Jensen said, smiling ear to ear, hiding his slight annoyance with the remark made.
"Be careful, dirt boy, or I'm going to come out and make you eat your words," Harrison said, with his nose flaring, hands tightly gripping the railing of the balcony he stood on.
"Are you sure you're going to fit through the door?" Jensen said confidently, gesturing his hands around his waist and giggling like a child. He knew all his taunting was getting to Harrison.
"Who does that no good farm boy think he's talking to," Harrison's said to himself, his short temper got the better of him as he was now boiling like a kettle filled with water. His face was red like a lobster. If not for his strength that was there to back him up, he would see no fault with his behavior.
"He's been sizing me up since we met. An empty and quiet place like the library would be the perfect place to finally give him what he deserves," Jensen said to himself. "After all, two policemen fighting is not something the town needed to see in this worrying state that it's in.
Harrison stepped back slowly into the building, locking eyes with Jensen, the two sizing each other up like wild tigers in each other's territories. "I'm surprised he backed off, I didn't think he was the type to think things through," Jensen said to himself.
Jensen's ears flicked up as he heard something that sparked excitement in his eyes. It was Harrison's footsteps heading to the front door right in front of him. His eyes locked on the entrance, keenly waiting for the slightest indication of movement. The sound of Harrison's footsteps was like gongs echoing through the library, each one widening the smile on Jensen's face.
This was the perfect thing to rid him of the boredom he felt throughout the night. Suddenly, the number of footsteps increased.
"Did he call another?" Jensen thought, reaching for his baton. Bam! The doors burst open to a funny sight to behold. Coming through the door was Harrison limping in pain as the sergeant in charge, "Hogan," pulled his ears as they walked in tandem.
Hogan had a strict no-nonsense policy and looked like he had fought in a war and acted like a military man. He had a large mustache, all of which earned him the nickname "General."
"What did I say about talking during the job?" he said, letting go of Harrison and pushing him to the floor in front of Jensen. At this point, Jensen was on the brink of laughter. "This is better than any fight I could have asked for," he thought to himself.
"I don't want to see you boys say a word to each other throughout this night. And Harrison, the next time you leave your post, it'll go on your record," Hogan spoke loudly, pouting and pointing his fingers at the two. "Now, where's the third one?"
Before either Harrison or Jensen could utter a word, a horrifying scream cut through the air like a razor through a piece of paper. The silent and peaceful night was suddenly destroyed by the spine-shivering word "help" that echoed through the halls of the library and out the front door where they stood. Everything stood still for a second, which seemed to last longer than it should have as their minds raced at the possibilities. Then another cry for help was made, this time having the opposite effect as everything seemed to speed up.
At that moment, Jensen's body seemed to move on its own. He wasn't thinking, just acting. Within a second, he had left the two men outside and was in the building looking for Arthur.
"What are you doing standing around, Harrison? Didn't you hear that? Let's go," Hogan said with a look that garnered both anger and nervousness as he struggled to keep his knees from shaking as he wobbled his way into the building.
The moment they entered the library, they noticed the sudden change in atmosphere; the hair on their skin stood as they ran across the room. It felt like the voice of their comrade resonated throughout the room.
"Arthur, I hope you're not messing with us," Harrison said. His eyes were dizzy from looking left to right, and his legs felt heavy; it was his body sending him a message to stay back.
"It'll be one hell of a punishment he'll receive if this is a joke," Hogan replied. "Why are you walking so close, anyway? Are you scared?" he continued.
"I'm not scared; you're the one with the lamp," Harrison said, right before Hogan cut him off. "There's something at the end of the path."
A shadow being cast by a strange-looking figure. The two walked cautiously towards it as its size grew bigger the closer they got. Without realizing it, they held each other in fear.
A figure emerged with both hands out as if to hit them. They screamed in horror, holding one another tightly for their dear life.