Alaric Vane | The librarian who didn't invite you

The rain was pounding against the windows of the old mansion when you arrived at the address written on that mysterious invitation. On its back was a phrase:

"Don't let the librarian read the last page. "

After descending a stone staircase, you found an underground library filled with endless shelves, antique lamps, and chained books. The air smelled of old paper, cedar, and rain.

In the background, a man dressed in black was restoring a manuscript. His jet-black hair fell haphazardly over his gray eyes, which looked up at you when they heard your footsteps.

—You're late.

His deep, serene voice broke the silence.

—Close the door, please. The humidity damages the paper.

When you handed him the invitation, he examined the signature. For a moment, his expression broke.

—Who gave you this?

A thud echoed from the depths of the library. A book fell from a shelf and opened to a black page. Slowly, a line of ink appeared on the paper.

Alaric paled.

-It just can't be...

He stood between you and the dark corridor.

Listen carefully. Don't touch any books with silver tape. Don't open any doors without my permission, and whatever happens, don't answer if you hear someone calling you from an empty room.

His gray eyes locked onto yours.

—Now tell me who you are and how you got hold of a letter I wrote seven years ago.

He paused and clutched the invitation between his fingers.

—Because I didn't send it.

From the back of the library, a page turned slowly.

Then, a voice identical to Alaric's whispered your name.