Mr. Linden's Library

He had warned her about the book, now it was too late.  

It was late in the afternoon and Nadia went to visit her uncle, Mr. Linden.  He lived in a big stone house that looked like a mansion.  The house was set back in the woods about a mile or two.  Weeping willows surrounded the house on the sides and a few in the front.  Green lush grass covered a fairly large front lawn.  An old stone pool, with lilies resting comfortably on the top of the water, filled the middle of the back yard.  Walkways on either side of the pool led to an enormous garden.  The garden looked like it was old and dead.  The only colors were browns and swamp greens.  The sun never seemed to shine in the area of the house.  It always looked overcast and like it was going to rain any minute.

Despite the looks on the outside, inside the house was very elegant.  The hallways were lit with long smooth candles that hung upon the wall every few feet or so.  Each room had a huge fireplace lit with a roaring fire.  The furniture was made of the finest mahogany and red velvet.  The chairs were put together in an old Victorian manner with high straight backs.  

Each bedroom had a high oak bed with a downy mattress and comforters made from the finest feathers and most luxurious materials money could buy.  Nadia's bedroom had an old Victorian end table with a small lamp.  She was afraid she would burn her bed if she had candles.  There was a big picture window with a window seat.  The window gave a view overlooking the pool and the garden.

The house consisted of two floors.  The first floor contained the living room, sitting room, kitchen, two bathrooms, and Mr. Linden's study.  The second floor consisted of six bedrooms, a play room, a gallery, Nadia's study, and a library. 

Nadia was not allowed in the library and she had never seen the inside of it.  Mr. Linden told Nadia that great powers lay behind that door.  Nadia did not believe him. 

One day she was doing her homework, assigned by her governess, and she needed a reference book.  She knew just where to get one, but she had been warned to stay away from the thick oak doors at the other end of the hallway.  She decided she would wait until Mr. Linden left for town and sneak down to the library and get the book she needed.

Mr. Linden left for town that evening and Nadia knew he wouldn't be back for a couple of hours.  She walked slowly to the other end of the hallway, creeping a few inches at a time.  She finally made it and rested her hand on the doorknob and stared.  She started to pull.  The creak of the door startled her, she let go and took a quick look around for fear of being caught.  She let out the breath she did not realize she had been holding in relief.  No one was there.  She pulled again and again until the stubborn door swung open.

The sight of the library took her breath away.  Three walls were covered with books of every kind from children fairytales to witchcraft.  Nothing in the library looked as dangerous as Mr. Linden had made it seem.  She took a step in and sniffed.  The room smelled of freshly cut flowers.  She walked around the room looking at the books and out the window.  She had forgotten what she had come here for.

Then she saw it.  A book lay on the table.  The golden vines upon the brown leather cover attracted her eye.  She walked towards it.  It was almost like it was calling to her.  The book was so beautiful.  The vines on the cover were made from gold and were embossed into the leather.  The leather smelled like it had just come from the tannery.  In the upper right corner were three sets of initials; A.L., S.L., and M. L.

Nadia thought maybe the book was of Mr. Linden's family as she knew the initals were of his wife and two boys.  They had died in a plane crash three years before.  There were also two sets of  initials she noticed on the lower left corner R.L. and H.L.  Those were her parents initials.  They had disappeared while on vacation just last year.  

She ran her fingers over the vines.  They burned her hand to the touch.  She cut her finger on one of the points of the vine and a drop of her blood landed on the book to join five other scarlet red spots on the cover.  She ran her fingers down to the corner of the book.  She was just about to discover what the book withheld from her when she heard the sound of a bottle shattering on the floor.  She jumped and spun towards the door and there stood Mr. Linden.  He had dropped the bottle of water he held as soon as he ad seen her.  His face pale, he rushed her out of the library and sent her to her room.  The library doors were shut tightly and locked that night.

At supper Mr. Linden told Nadia if she insisted on going into the library, she must never ever touch that book.  He had noticed another spot on the book when he closed the doors.  "That book is dangerous; it claims lived," he told her, "And for every spot on the book there is one person hooked.  For every set of initials on the cover there is one person sacrificed to the book within the cover." 

Nadia did not heed his warning and she entered the library again.  The book seemed to call her name every time she entered that room.  Finally, she was drawn to the book and could not deny it.  One night when Mr. Linden thought she was asleep she crept into the library and returned to her room with the book.  This is it she thought.  Her hand on the corner, she slowly lifted the cover to reveal the first page.

Night after night she re-read the first page because every night she would open the book and a new title would appear.  On the fourth night, the title read NADIA.  She read the story and it seemed very similar to her own life.  When she got to the middle of the story about the vines on the book, something strange started to happen.  Vines growing out of the middle of the book?  The vines were a luscious lively green that Nadia had never seen before.

She stared at the book.  The vines grew onto her arm and she felt a stinging sensation crawl up her skin.  She felt suddenly tired and, even though she was curious about the book, her eyelids were to heavy to keep open.  Mr. Linden saw light coming from under her door and he went to check on her.

He slowly creaked the door open.  Mr. Linden peered around the edge of the door.  No Nadia, just a made bed and that evil book.  He walked over to the book and a single tear ran down his sallow face and fell upon a single leaf of the still growing vine.  His painful tear killed the vine and it shriveled up and went back into the book.  The closed the book and in the lower left corner read a new set of initials, N.L.  Mr. Linden sat on the bed for the rest of the night holding his family close to his heart and crying for the years of pain that book had brought.