Despite being the smallest college in its consortium, Northarbor College had a huge library. The modern monstrosity of mortar and brick towered over the quaint little cottages turned dorms and classrooms. According to administration, the architect who designed the new library in the 70’s had a personal goal of mimicking the architecture and aesthetic of the rest of the campus- that aesthetic being a small haven of pastoral green smushed between the cold city and cookie-cutter suburbs.

Instead, Northarbor College ended up with a giant, ugly brick of a building smack in the middle of campus, between sweet cottage buildings, old mansions, and a gorgeous walkway of wisteria whose dripping petals ushered in spring.

And it was all ruined by The Brick.

The Brick, as Northarbor’s students derisively called it, was technically on Northabor’s main campus. The town of Northabor’s main road neatly divided the campus into two parts. Students generally agreed that, if the beloved brick was doomed to look like that, it should have been on the other side of the road. That was where most of the buildings put up after the nineteenth century sat, and so there was a diverse mix of styles and aesthetics. The main campus should have remained a bastion in recognition of dark academia, history, and terrible barely working AC.

Mira didn’t quite agree.

Sure, the library was a giant ugly brick, but it was filled with more books than even the library at the consortium’s research university! And the inside was lovely, with winding staircases behind glass and rows upon rows of perfectly preserved books. The archives were plentiful, and there were always reading rooms ready for the student body.

Mira felt a sort of camaraderie with The Brick. On a campus filled with beautiful Victorian houses and, quite frankly, a very attractive student body, Mira stood out. She was rather plain- shoulder-length brown wavy hair in a perpetual ponytail, brown eyes behind huge, thin-rimmed glasses. Not curvy enough to be fat nor thin enough to be skinny. Not noticeably short, but below average height too. Mira dressed not for fashion or practicality, but for comfort. She had been considering heading to the library in pajamas, until her best friend and roommate had looked at her long enough, just so in that way of hers, that Mira had slapped on a sweatshirt and jeans. In a college half full of wealthy kids flushed with perfect hair and skin, and half full of artists with blue hair and pronouns, Mira stood out like, well, The Brick on a perfectly arranged campus.

Either way, Northarbor College had a huge library. And inside that library was a restricted section.

Mira really wanted in on that restricted section.

She was a good student! She was in the honors program, she turned in all her assignments on time, and she didn’t pick too many fights in seminars. Didn’t she deserve a chance to see what was in the restricted section? Shouldn’t the forbidden knowledge be available to all who seek?

Most students from other schools in the consortium didn’t know about the restricted section, but it was something of an open secret at Northarbor. A slightly less known secret was that there were a few students and professors who were actually allowed in the restricted section.

For example! When Mira asked her roommate Mist about the restricted section, Mist went “ah.” She nodded.

“So do you know what’s in it?” Mira asked, leaning forward, eyes eager and wide.

Mist hesitated. “No.” She looked off to the side.

Most people on campus were intimidated by Mist. She was tall, towering over most of the other students at Northarbor. Combined with her sharp, angular face and closed expression, most people tended to avoid her. The rumors that followed her didn’t help- if you listened to them, Mist apparently kicked the collective ass of an entire frat from the major party school in the consortium. But Mira didn’t really care. She and Mist had been roommates for three years, and Mira proudly called herself both Mist’s best friend and the person who knew Mist better than anyone.

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So Mira knew Mist was lying.

“So you do know what’s in the restricted section!”

“I need to go to class.” Mist said, and stood up from where she was sitting on Mira’s bed. Mist mechanically made her way out the door, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder, the one with the shield and spear tattoo.

“But you don’t have class for another two hours!” Mira shouted after her as the door slammed shut.

They made a funny pair, Mira and Mist. Tall, elegant blond Mist with her strong arms and fashionable clothes. And little gremlin Mira.

Mira knew she couldn’t ask Mist again- the more she asked, the more Mist clammed up. Which was such a shame, since Mira loved fishing for gossip.

She sighed, and tried to bury her head in her laptop. It wasn’t as dramatic as burying your head in books, but it was all she had at the table with her. Beggars can’t be choosers.

Mira was at her usual stake-out place, the table directly across the room from the restricted section. She sat there so often other library goers had come to see that as her table. When Mist went to collect Mira for her daily meals, this was always where she checked first.

And yet! Mira had never seen anyone come in or out of the restricted section.

Until today.

It was just past six o’clock. Mist would probably be out of class soon, and would be around to collect Mira any time now. It was good timing too, as she had just about finished her paper on penny dreadfuls, but then. But then.

The door to the restricted room opened.

Gawking, Mira slammed her laptop shut. Then quickly opened it again. She ducked down behind it, her eyes just peeking over the top. Without looking, she clacked down on random keys, hoping it would look like she was hard at work, as opposed to hardly working. And, you know, watching strangers like a creep.

But it wasn’t a stranger that walked out. It was Sam Lombardi, linguistics professor. He was fairly young for a professor with tenure, and fairly handsome to boot. With his deep brown hair and eyes paired with a soft tan, Mira knew a few girls who enrolled in his seminars just to sit near him for a few hours every week. Today, he didn’t have his signature easy smile on his face. No- he was glaring down at his phone, typing rapidly as he stormed from the restricted section of the library.

He was so distracted, he didn’t even ensure the door was fully closed as he stalked out.

Normally, Mira would be more curious about what made him so frustrated. Intellectually, Mira knew that professors were people too, but it was always so weird to see one lose their cool on campus. Show emotions that weren’t vague interest or vague disgust.

Today, Professor Lombardi wasn’t smiling and today, Mira couldn’t give less of a fuck. She waited impatiently for him to round the corner and disappear behind one of the stacks. Then, she pounced.

She spared half a thought to pray no one would steal her stuff (her iced coffee and muffin were honestly more of a flight risk than her shitty laptop) before she ran to the door. Nearly tripping over the laces of her thrifted, knock-off Docs, she sped into the room and closed the door behind her.

There was a strange, sudden flash of heat that struck her as she crossed the threshold. Just as soon as it hit Mira, it dissipated. Weird, for it to be so hot in the library. Mira took off her sweater and tied it around her waist.

Mira wasn’t sure what she was expecting beyond that door. Definitely a small, enclosed space with no windows. Possibly a librarian to check your ID? Rare books, maybe, or just really old ones? A part of the archives with sensitive materials?

Instead it just looked like a continuation of the normal library. Completely typical, if not for the metallic-sweet smell lingering in the air. Stacks of books, line after line, none obviously remarkable. Looking at the titles on the stack closest to the door, though, those caught Mira’s interest. Theories on Magic? Praxis and Practical Magic? Ethics: A Study on Adapting Common Magics? As she continued down the line, more and more books followed this naming trend. Magic, magic, magic. Mira wondered if this was some sort of fiction, or a strange philosophical study on what a world with magic could be like. If so, why was this section restricted?

Curious, Mira pulled out a book titled Introduction to Postmodern Magical Thought and Expression. Paging through, the text looked as dense as it felt, weighing down her hands. She tucked it under her arm for later study, then continued to the next stack.

Mira was only able to read the title of one text, Ghosts and Gnosticism, before she paused. A gross little fly had landed on her book. Annoyed, she shook it off.

The fly flew away, and another buzzed in to replace it. Mira swatted at it. She wondered if someone had opened a window, or even if this section was actually restricted because it needed an exterminator.

But no. Mira put the book down back on the shelf. Now that she was thinking about it, something felt off. It was an intangibly bad feeling, one she couldn’t quite verbalize. A tugging at her gut, a nagging in her skull. It was telling her to leave, and to leave immediately. But Mira was cognizant of the fact that this could be her only chance to look around.

Abandoning that stack as a loss, she contemplated her options. Perhaps it was something in that area that was making her feel uncomfortable? Maybe everything would be better at the back of the room, further away from the door into the main library.

Mira moved past shelves upon shelves of books. The buzzing sound grew louder, and the scent grew thicker. More pungent, almost putrid. At this point, it wasn’t even about the books anymore.

There was something at the back of the library and it was something awful.