James Coom

Chapter 1

It was a warm afternoon, the kind where the sun cast long, sleepy shadows across the winding road. Ian and I were driving in our old car, humming along to some soft tune playing on the radio. The road ahead was peaceful, dotted with small houses and open fields, until it suddenly began to rise. At the crest, a vast expanse of land stretched out before us, and then, as we rounded an S-bend, the land appeared. A vast expanse of lush greenery stretched out before us, framed by distant hills and the shimmer of the horizon. Two acres, maybe more—it was hard to tell from this distance. But it was perfect.

"Ian, look at that," I said, my voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. I pointed towards the land, excitement bubbling up inside me. "This could be the place."

He slowed the car as we pulled over to the side of the road. The tires crunched on the gravel, and I opened the door, stepping out into the open air. A light breeze brushed against my skin, carrying with it the earthy scent of soil and grass, along with something faintly salty from the sea. The land felt alive, vibrant, like it had been waiting for us to find it.

Ian joined me by the side of the car, looking out at the sprawling green. "You're right," he said, his voice low, thoughtful. "It's beautiful."

I nodded, already imagining it. "We could start with a farm. Coconut trees, maybe? And once we get that going, we could build a house, a farmhouse at the edge of the property." I could see it all in my mind—rows of coconut trees swaying gently in the breeze, the farmhouse perched on a small rise, overlooking the whole farm. A place to build a life, far from the noise and chaos of the world.

"We should explore it," I added, my curiosity growing. I started walking across the uneven ground, letting my feet guide me deeper into the land.

Ian followed a few paces behind, but something ahead caught my eye—a strange structure, barely visible among the tall grass. As I moved closer, I saw it more clearly.It was a staircase, simple and worn, rising out of the earth like it had been there for years, forgotten by time.

The staircase was peculiar, almost like it didn't belong in the natural surroundings. It was a simple stone structure, rising out of the ground with no apparent purpose. Ten steps led upward, straight and narrow, but once at the top, things became stranger. From the landing, two more staircases branched off in opposite directions, twisting away from the main steps like they were designed to confuse rather than guide.

Curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to climb. As I reached the top, I paused, and something caught my eye—a sign, faintly weathered and written in blue paint. The letters were faded, barely legible, but I could make out the name "James Coom" or something similar. The name didn't mean anything to me, but the strangeness of it all sent a small chill down my spine.

I turned around, expecting to see the land stretching out below me as it had moments before. But now, directly in front of me was a small, unassuming library. It was not grand or ornate, just a modest room with a couple of racks of dusty books, a simple wooden table, and a single chair. The kind of place that looked more like an afterthought than an actual library.

There was no one inside, no librarian or students milling about. It felt almost abandoned, though the books seemed well-kept despite the dust. I took a hesitant step towards the entrance, but something made me pause. I turned to glance back at the staircase I had just climbed, and that's when I saw it—the blank wall that had been there moments before had vanished.

In its place was a courtyard, filled with students. They sat in clusters, some reading, some chatting quietly, their faces bathed in the warm afternoon light. But something about them felt wrong. At first glance, they seemed happy, but as I looked closer, their expressions didn't match the scene. Their smiles were too tight, their laughter strained, and their eyes—those eyes were vacant, like they were going through the motions but weren't really there.

It struck me as odd that I hadn't noticed any of this until now, even though I had just climbed the stairs moments ago. How could an entire courtyard of people and activity appear out of nowhere? I should have seen them before, but it was as if the place had revealed itself only when I reached the top.

A knot of unease formed in my stomach, but I tried to shake it off. Maybe I'm just overthinking this. After all, it was just a library, right?

I ignored my growing suspicion, turned my back to the students, and stepped towards the library.