This wasn't good. This was the opposite of good. What's the word... oh right! Absolutely mind-bogglingly, spine-tinglingly terrifying.

When Hugo paid the Obscura Athenaeum a visit earlier today, he didn't expect much. Why would he? It was just the local library down the street. The young musician needed to do research on Bentley Smalls, a famous jazz singer who grew up in town around the 1920s. Hugo had hit an art block weeks ago, and a little inspiration from the musical legends of yore never hurt, right?

True to form, the Obscura Athenaeum did not disappoint. The library had every book under the sun about Mr. Smalls, provided you knew where to look. There were biographies, hundreds of black-and-white photographs, journal articles, and old newsreels of Brass Breath, Silver Sound, the longest-running jazz band that Mr. Smalls performed alongside. There were maps of where Brass Breath traveled around the world, a list of Mr. Smalls' favorite local locations, and old vinyl records of the band's music. Heck, there was even sheet music of Mr. Smalls' songs, both popular and the obscure.

It was a treasure trove of information, and Hugo couldn't get enough. He spent hours wiling away the time, sinking his teeth into this juicy turkey. Hugo didn't eat, he didn't sleep. He scarcely used the toilet. And as he devoured book-after-book, deepening his knowledge in jazz music, people filtered through the library, going about their routines until the crowd thinned. The sands of time grew weighty, and outside the window, the sun pinwheeled through the sky until the last embers of daylight died upon the horizon.

Without realizing it, the Obscura Athenaeum closed its doors for the night, leaving Hugo locked inside. Lost, hungry. And painfully alone.

Well, no. Not alone. Lord Above, how Hugo wished he was alone. Instead, he had the lovely company of Obscura Athenaeum's head librarian, Brienda Vasquez. The severe, yet young woman stayed overnight for a late shift, preparing the library for its Halloween events next month and organizing for the next day. When Hugo realized the late hour and tried to quietly leave, he caught sight of Ms. Vasquez as she strolled through the halls, putting books back on shelves. She didn't spot him, but Hugo hid all the same.

"Oh shit, not her!" said Hugo, whispering under his breath.

Everyone knew about Ms. Vasquez. The head librarian upheld a strict no-nonsense policy and ran a tight ship. Local officials paid the head librarian respect and ensured financial support for the Athenaeum, while her employees lived in eternal fear and awe of her. Rule-breakers who tried funny business in the Obscura Athenaeum, like running through the halls or gluing pages together, quickly found themselves exiled from the library, or worse. Why, when people returned books late, Ms. Vasquez gave them such a stern look that grown men who could punch marble slabs into polished statues wept like children.

And last year, when a bunch of teenagers spraypainted the sign outside, Ms. Vasquez pulled them aside for a private lecture. Nobody knows what happened, but when the teenagers emerged from the librarian's office, they were pale as sheets. They shook like leaves, muttered under their breath, and left with bowed heads. The high school dropouts quickly turned their lives around, returned to school, graduated with full honors, and went to college. Rumor had it that they got fancy office jobs in the big city miles away, if only to leave town as fast as humanly possible.

The teenagers never mentioned what happened to the ringleader, Big Jimmy. He was never seen leaving the office. It was awfully suspicious, however, how Ms. Vasquez emerged after the teenagers sporting a brown, swollen belly that bounced an awful lot. Hands on her hips, the head librarian snorted.

"Hooligans need to learn their- braaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaap- place," said Ms. Vasquez, belching a stream of green gas between her teeth. She slapped her giant belly, making the fleshy orb bounce around. Acid sloshed like a caustic lake inside and it boomed like a drum. Bwomph, bwomph! "Remember this moment as an educational lesson: never sully a library's good name The secrets held within are more precious than Man can appreciate, and far more dangerous."

That, of course, was wild gossip. Hugo wasn't so naive to believe everything he heard. Still, it was wise to not upset the librarian; he didn't wanna be banned from the Obscura Athenaeum! There was much research to be done, and if he could feel as inspired by other artists than he did about Bentley Smalls, Hugo's next musical masterpiece was around the corner! So he hid behind a bookshelf, waited for Ms. Vasquez to pass by, then snuck downstairs.

... here he found Ms. Vasquez. Again. How did she get downstairs? There was only one stairwell, no elevator, and he didn't pass her along the way. Huh. Weird.

So, taking great care, Hugo snuck past the head librarian again. It was tricker this time, since the lights were dimmer and Ms. Vasquez stalked the halls faster, but it wasn't impossible. Soon, Hugo reached the fifth floor.

Where he found Ms. Vasquez. For a second time. What the hell?

So it went. Each time Hugo went downstairs, there she was. Cleaning the library, putting books back on shelves, walking dangerously close. Sweat grew on Hugo's brow. This was nuts. How was she doing this? Sure, Ms. Vasquez might know secret pathways through the library, but how was she so stealthy about it? The librarian was enormous as an elephant with hips that could bowl over bookshelves! The very picture of femininity, compacted into a curvy body that supermodels would kill for, yet massive as a tree and more dense than steel. Why didn't he hear her until she was practically on top of him!?

That mystery, however, quickly fled Hugo's thoughts. More were on the horizon, so many more. Because when Hugo descended from the second floor, oh-so-close to the exit, Hugo found himself in the basement instead. What?

"What the fuck? How? Where?" Hugo tugged at his blond hair. "Why!?"

He went upstairs, only to reach the second floor again. Where was the first floor? Where did it go!?

Things were worse downstairs. Beneath the basement was the sub-basement. Beneath that was the sub-sub-basement, a floor consisting of nothing but endless hallways, cold brick walls, and metallic pipes that spat hissing steam. And beneath that?

The 10th floor.

"... I'm going mad," said Hugo. The young man felt his already taut nerves painfully creak, close to snapping like thread. "What's going on!?"

So it went. Hugo explored the Obscura Athenaeum, searching for an exit that vanished off the face of the earth. There was no hope. No sign of escape. Only books, books, and more books. And Ms. Vasquez, who drew closer. Ever present. Every waiting. Ever hungry. Until, at last, Hugo had no place to hide. Except...

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?" Brienda Vasquez huffed to herself, hands on those enormous hips that could crush mountains and smother cows. The head librarian peered into a bookcase, glaring at an assortment of piercing red eyes. "There’s one of him and a million of you! Look harder.”

“N'ghftdrn, O Thousand-Eyed One," said the red-eyed abominations in unison, gurgling from the back of throats never meant for human speech. Sickly-colored tentacles writhed between books, grasping the air for something unseen by the mortal eye. "Ahor, orr'enah 'c gpars."

Brienda pinched her brow. "Ugh! Must I do everything myself? As if there's not enough on my plate, getting this place ready for Halloween! Now I hafta handle a hooligan who trespassed on our sacred ground?”

The head librarian rolled her blood-red eyes. This was not her night. Nobody appreciated the hard work she put into this place. Keeping the eldritch architecture of this dark, forbidden library from consuming souls during daylight hours was trouble enough. Same went with keeping mortals oblivious to the
eldritch entities that roamed its halls and the magical tomes hidden within its depths that could melt brains into soup. Losing a trespasser during this time was another headache altogether.

Still, scant few souls in town could do the job as well as her, and Brienda liked the Obscura Athenaeum. So the duty fell onto her, and with a sigh, she stormed down the hall.

"Come out, come out, foolish hooligan," said Brienda. The librarian's gut growled noisily. She rubbed it gently, running circles across the smooth skin. "Where are you? You can't escape my gaze forever. That shouldn't be possible in the first place! Once I'm through with that weasel, he's gonna beg to be my midnight snack..."

Hugo wisely bit his tongue. Behind Brienda, the young man crept along with the grace of a mouse. Above his head, the librarian's massive ass cast a deep shadow, obscuring Hugo from view. That behemoth booty loomed like twin assteroids doomed to smash into a pitiful planet, and with every step, made fleshy whomp whomp sounds that made his teeth rattle.

This wasn't dancing with death; it was spitting in Death's eye, and Hugo knew it. This hiding spot wouldn't last forever, and when Brienda found him... Hugo gulped hard. Well, he hoped she didn't somehow.

"Why is this my life?" asked Hugo, even as he kept pace with Brienda, closer to those baby-bearing hips than any man before without adding to them. "I just wanted to read books, dammit..."

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A commission for the awesome  Spider8Fiend

Brienda belongs to  Spider8Fiend
Hugo belongs to Monster Grotto who can be found oon here: https://twitter.com/MonsterGrotto

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