The library was different than the last time I saw it. I entered, books in hand. As soon as the door closed behind me, I was shocked. I scrunched my face at the smell. It was like someone was holding a pair of dirty socks under my nose, forgotten in a gym bag. There were books thrown all over the library, the paintings were ruined, the wall was cracked, the chairs were broken and other unimaginable things. I shouted, “Hello?” in the hope of finding the librarian. My first instinct was to quickly turn and run the other way, but curiosity got the better of me. This was the least pragmatic situation I had ever found myself in and I would definitely take advantage of it. I first approached the librarians' brown oak desk, where I found it completely empty. When I approached the opposite side of his cart, I noticed four large scratches perfectly side by side in the center of the table. Something was wrong. Fear began to fill my soul. My breathing quickened and I began to feel numb. Suddenly, a huge white, bubbly drop fell right in front of w...