I held my hefty torch before me, a broadsword against the dreaded shadows. The light danced across the room, hitting books, glancing off the impressive fireplace and illuminating the stained glass windows which told various bible stories that I was not familiar with. On two of the three windows was a man holding a staff and in the middle was a lamb; perhaps that one was a tale about farming. The whole thing with stories and their hidden meanings was usually lost to me. Here the stained glass was trying to convey something about looking after the innocence of the lamb or how important it was that we have people who will round us up and then push us in the right direction. That’s what a lot of teachers believed, but on this night the lamb just looked vulnerable and perhaps a whole lot scared. Just as I was.
It’s easy to decide to do something. First steps are always made with good intentions at the heart of them. I was in the library to try to find out what had happened. The past tense happened thing had not grown into a thing that I could fully visualise or comprehend, but I felt that it was at the very centre of everything that was at the school. I was still alone, the school was empty, even Demonic was not around. The rush of feet along the corridor did not happen. However, there was the bedsitting ghost and the downstairs drumming that ran throughout the building but came, I was certain of this, from the library. And when you can’t sleep, or have been rudely pushed from sleep, you have to make decisions to confront those fears that hide in the shadows. That night the bedsitting ghost was not there. The only thing that was reassuringly familiar was the steady drumming on the floor beneath.
I thought that I was protected by my light-shield. A torch as powerful as the one I had rescued from the caretaker’s office would give fair warning of my approach and ward off any unwanted ghouls. Still, I was not expecting to be met with an icy roll on the drums that were now hidden within the walls.