Excerpts from the story I'm working on {Part 2}

George felt like the darkness was creeping into his life

The walk to the library was a long and quiet one. No one talked and George couldn’t stop himself from imagining what Harris’ father would feel when they met him. For all he thought, Harris could have reported everything already, his own version by the way. He just hoped their only chance at retrieving the staff was not already squandered.

The door to the library was open when they got there. It was unusual for it to be left ajar so late into the evening. They knocked on the door lightly. There was no answer, nor any sign that someone was indoors.
Mr. Logan gave George a look that said 'be ready for anything'. They tiptoed inside, their eyes trying to adjust to the darkness. George tried hard to remember the position of the reading tables and the rows of shelves. He was beginning to feel that this had been a bad idea, especially as they couldn’t turn on the lights.

George couldn’t remember exactly where but he knew that one of the tables had been dragged close to a shelf the last time he came here by a nerdy guy who thought his table was too far away from the shelves as he needed to be retrieving books every now and then. He just wished that the boy, or the librarian, had been kind enough as to have taken it back to the right place. It didn’t take long to find out as Mr. Logan who was ahead of him kicked something and nearly falls.
“Be careful around there sir,” he called hurrying up to catch him. George wondered if he should just use a lightening spell. The place was as dark as midnight and no one knew what to expect. They got to the back of the library, to the door that led to the interior where the librarian and his boy, Harris lived.

They met the old man on his bedside clutching his stomach, clearly in pains. They rushed to his side immediately and helped him sit on the bed.

“What’s the matter with you,” Mr. Logan asked. It was strange seeing the man this way. His hair was unkempt and he looked like he hadn’t eaten anything in days.

“I’m being tormented, Mr. Logan. They won’t let me do anything.” Mr. Logan was clearly as confused as George was. Who was tormenting someone as peaceful as this elf-man who everyone in the realm had great respect for?

“Who’s tormenting you?” George questioned even as he noticed the man’s labored breathing.

“It’s the souls of the branchlings. They have the staff and are coming for me.” Everything still sounded strange still. What were the branchlings? And what did they want from him?

“You won’t understand even if I explained. My ancestors made the staff and it’s from the sachards they were crafted. I don’t know how but they have gotten hold of the staff and now, I am in trouble and even my son.

Mr. Logan and George exchanged knowing look, terror clearly visible on George’s beaming eyes.

“Harris!” they both screamed. George didn’t wait for Mr. Logan to say another word as he tore out of the library immediately into the waiting darkness that lurked outside.