Trapped By The Phantom: His Little Lamb

I wasn't in class, I was hiding. And the best p

building, to the Rare Books Room. It was a dusty, forgotten corner of the library, filled with old encyclopedias

lasses. I avoided the dining hall, living off granola bars I kept in my backpack

t texted, and Hannah had stopped leaving me not

legs. The shelves were tall and cramped, blocking out the l

s the floor with a loud clatter, breaking the abso

a small, black object. I bent down and picked it up. It was a phone

e rare books room? It looked brand new, without a scratch on it. I should ha

creen lit up, glowing an eerie green in the dim light. The battery was full. There was n

was listed

ut it down, to walk away. But my thumb moved on its

Little

ttle Lamb. A sick feeling washed over me. This wa

t off and throw it in the trash. But before I could, th

ring when yo

s. This wasn't a prank. This was deliberate. Someone had planted thi

ew wher

s seemed darker, deeper. The silence was no longer comforting; it was suf

He had said he would be watching. Was this hi

essed the button to reply, my fingers sha

nt. Not a text this ti

air left my lungs

at the phone in my hands, my face a mask of shock and con

s a metal ventilation grate. It was dark, impossible to see inside.

e as hard as I could. It hit the floor and sha

ough the heavy wooden doors and didn't stop until I was outside, in the bright afternoon sun

y hands shaking so badly I dropped it twice. Finally, I shove

hest. I was gasping for air, my lungs burning. The room was empty. Hannah w

the closet to the space under the beds. Was the

was the monster I had to avoid. I was wrong. There was something el