Waterstones Murder Mystery: Day Two

Halloween is fast approaching and I am super excited! Just to make the following fortnight even more thrilling, Waterstones are hosting an online blogger murder mystery, which I've been selected to get involved in. On five occasions over the next two weeks, myself and the other four bloggers will be posting diary entries from our terrifying, and murderous, "experience"  (Don't worry- it's totally fictional!) and tweeting hints, allowing everyone to get involved and try to work out the killer! If you're correct, you could win a £50 voucher. My fellow bloggers are: DaisyGeorginaSian and Beth, who will be posting their own diary entries based on their experience. Check out their posts for more clues! Find out more here and read my first diary entry here

 Day Two

Dear Diary,

I can't quite believe this, but things here are getting stranger and stranger. We've yet to find Georgina, which is starting to worry me, and there's no trace of her dog either. At first, I wasn't too worried. I assumed she'd gone home in the night, and perhaps thought the blood was just an elaborate hoax played by The Librarian. After all, he is a horror fan. Who knows what macabre past times he may have.

Undeterred by the strange disappearance, I spent the rest of the day reading in the library. It truly is a most remarkable place. Shelves are creaking from the full bodies of dusty tomes lined up like headstones in a cemetery, stretching intimidatingly to the ornate, gilded ceiling. Rickety ladders are dotted around the room, propped tentatively against the groaning stacks. In the centre of the room are two plush armchairs in silk of burgundy, and a worn leather couch with hide cracked like dry earth. 

Settling down into one of the deceptively battered armchairs with a book written by Ambrose Bierce, my descendant himself, I found the thin light soothing, if a little gloomy. To be completely honest, the novella, titled The Monk and the Hangman's Daughter, swept me up as if I were a delicate leaf on the wilting tree of an autumn's eve. Before I knew it, I could barely read the words imprinted on the frayed pages. To my surprise, when I reluctantly closed the book and raised my head heavily, both Beth and Daisy had joined me. Their arrival had passed without my noticing, so it was with a startled jolt that I greeted them.

After a brief, slightly wary chat, I padded over the protesting oak floorboards and pushed open the sturdy library door, trying my best not to disturb the sinister peace that had fallen over the room. As I made my way through the labyrinthine rooms, a weighty thud reverberated from the direction of the front door. Thinking that Georgina had returned, I hastily scurried into the grand entrance hall, only to find it abandoned. Curiously, I threw open the doors so as to spot any departing guests, and saw the back of Sian's auburn curls flouncing hurriedly toward the tempestuous lake. 

Not 30 minutes later, I again heard the thump of the front door and returned to the entrance hall where I found Sian. Eyes wild and frantic from some unseen horror, her clammy skin was the sikly-grey colour of porridge and she shook as if caught in a bitter wind. The Librarian quickly appeared and swooped upon Sian, draping one slender arm over her shoulders like a wing. When she spoke, it was in a brittle, damaged voice, barely above a whisper and with a distinct growl that seemed to lurk somewhere within her soul. Between panicked gasps of air, she managed to sputter that she had seen a gigantic monster in the lake however, when we questioned her further, she withdrew within herself from fear and furiously shook her head, refusing to answer. As The Librarian led her back to her room, he informed us that he would call the police, who were still in touch from the previous night's disappearance.

The police arrived within minutes, no doubt concerned by the latest development, and, from my claustrophobic room, I could spot them swarming around the lake. I soon discovered that they had located more blood, this time confirmed as that of a human, and some small metal objects hidden in the rushes that cling to land. What these objects are exactly was unclear and I suppose they can't mention too much at this point.

Could this really be The Librarian playing a hoax? If so, he's gone a bit too far. I'm feeling particularly uncomfortable. It's too late to do anything now, so I will stay one more sleep, but I will head home in the morning. I cannot stay another 24 hours in this place.


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