Chosen to Survive (ONC2024)

Chapter 1

Zoe's POV

"Sooo, that's it?" Zack asks, his tone dripping with a mixture of curiosity and disappointment. He squints his eyes at Crestwood Heights High, hands deeply buried into the pockets of his faded jeans-a subconscious reminder from that era of grunge that seemed to stick with him like second skin. "This is it? That school's been under construction forever and it looks the same..."

I pause, reconsidering the school. Our school. It's a long moment. From the outside, Zack's right; it hasn't changed. The front looked pretty much the same as it always did: a brick façade, the windows reflecting the soulless eyes of a derelict creature, and the front doors had definitely seen better days. "Maybe all the changes are on the inside?" I add, in an attempt to infuse a little excitement back into the morbid subject. I mean, this isn't an everyday gig: returning to the rumored epicenter of a town's dark and unexplained mysteries.

Construction and whispered secrets had been bustling around Crestwood Heights for over seven months, following the mayor's statement that the school was unsafe. But we knew the truth those words were bull shit. There was something really wrong about Crestwood, something that bordered the unreal. A town haunted by unexplained deaths no amount of skepticism could shun away. "This town sucks," I tell myself to echo what every teenager ever had thought, who had ever wished to be anywhere but here.

"Alright, let's see what's in there," Zack finally says; his curiosity gets the best of him. We push through the heavy front doors into the familiar yet unknown.

Inside Crestwood Heights High, it's a wave of nostalgia, tinged just a bit with the new. The halls are the same, walls adorned with lockers still holding the secrets and dreams of generations past and present. But there is an air of change, subtle but still undeniable.

And then, there it is. A library.

A library that had not been there in the old-school layout. My heart misses a beat, excitement coursing through me. The idea of a new sanctuary within these walls, a place filled with stories and knowledge, is thrilling. Libraries have always been my source of hope, particularly in a town like Crestwood, where darkness is often too close for comfort.

Walking in, I take a moment to breathe in the scent of new books. This is a welcoming space: bookcases, apparently running through genres and literary eras, can be glimpsed down the inviting main aisle, while quiet reading spaces promise one respite or adventure. Stories waiting to be found.

"What can I help you with?" a friendly voice brought me out of the reverie. I turned and looked at a man who smiled at me openly, with kindness. He was about 35, and his warm and intelligent behavior spoke of his good nature. His style is unadorned but dandy, a '90s vibe filtered through the flannel shirt pining for his graphic tee, though a subtle nod to the passion for classic rock music.

"Uh, no, I was just looking around," I respond as I register the grandeur of the library.

"Well, if you need any help, just let me know," he offers with a genuine smile, before adding, "I'm Mr. Henderson, the librarian."

Mr. Henderson's presence in this library, in this school, feels like a shock. There's a sense of calm and wisdom about him that makes me believe he's more than just a librarian. In a town like Crestwood, a person's role was more often than not greater than it appeared at first glance.

Zack comes out from the shadows then, where his eyes have been tracking me silently, his curiosity piqued at who had come to our school. Together we search the library.

Walking out of the library, one can only get a feel that this is going to be a different school year. Bringing the library and Mr. Henderson to Crestwood Heights High is bringing a new chapter to the town.

Oakley POV

The morning light spills through the windows of Crestwood Heights High's newly minted library, casting a warm glow over the shelves that house centuries' worth of wisdom and wit. I take a moment to breathe in the silence, the kind that only a place dedicated to books can offer. It's my second week as the librarian here, and each day feels like a step further into a dream I've harbored since my days back in England, surrounded by the imposing yet comforting walls of the old libraries.

I'm straightening a row of books on the supernatural-fitting, given the town's penchant for eerie tales, when the bell signals the start of the day. Crestwood Heights High is alive with the sound of students, their voices a blend of excitement, curiosity, and the occasional groan of reluctance.

"Good morning, Mr. Henderson!" a cheerful voice greets. I turn to see a bright-eyed student, her enthusiasm for the day palpable.

"Good morning, Miss...?" I trail off, hoping she'll fill in the blank.

"Harper, Lily Harper." She extends a hand, which I shake, noting her firm grip. "I just wanted to say it's so cool to have a library now. And with a British librarian, no less! It's like something out of a storybook."

"Well, Miss Harper, I'm thrilled to be here," I reply, my British accent more pronounced than I intend, eliciting a smile from Lily.

"Definitely! I was actually hoping you could recommend a book. I'm into mysteries, especially the spooky kind."

"Ah, a fellow connoisseur of the uncanny. I have just the thing." I lead her to a section where the mysteries dwell, pulling out a book that's seen its fair share of readers. "This one's been a favorite back home. Should keep you on your toes."

Lily's eyes light up as she takes the book, her thanks echoing as she dashes off, likely to find a quiet corner to start her journey.

The day unfolds with a steady stream of students, each with their own preferences and curiosities. There's Zack and Zoe, whose interest in the library seems fueled by more than just a love for reading. Their questions, hinted more. They seemed to be searching for something.

As the afternoon sun begins its descent, the library becomes a sanctuary for those seeking refuge from the trials of high school life. It's during these quiet hours that I find the most joy, able to offer guidance, recommend stories, and occasionally share tales of my own adventures from across the pond.

The chime of the clock signals the end of the school day, but the library remains open for those who need it. I'm tidying up the reading nook when the door creaks open, revealing a figure silhouetted against the fading light.

"Mr. Henderson?" a hesitant voice calls out. I recognize it as Zoe's.

"In here, Miss Zoe. What can I do for you?" I reply, setting aside the books I was arranging.

"I... we were wondering if you knew anything about... well, about the supernatural stuff happening around here." Zoe's voice trails off, her question hanging in the air like a delicate mist.

I pause, weighing my response. The truth is, my fascination with the supernatural isn't just academic. It's personal. My journey to Crestwood wasn't only for the love of books but also a search for answers to questions that have lingered in my own life.

"I might know a thing or two," I begin, inviting Zoe to sit. "But these are tales better suited for the light of day, don't you think? Why don't we arrange for you and Zack to come by tomorrow after school? We can discuss... things then."

Zoe nods, a mixture of relief and anticipation in her eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Henderson. We'll be here."

As she leaves, I find myself reflecting on the events that led me here, to this small town with all its mysteries. Crestwood Heights, with its charm and secrets, feels like the right place to be.

As I lock up for the night, the moon casting long shadows across the rows of books, I can't help but feel a sense of anticipation. I have a good feeling about this. With a book in one hand and a lantern to light the way, I step into the night walking home.

1,368 words