Free Nightmares From a Lovecraftian Mind by Jordan Krall

think
you would.”
    We walk quickly down the aisle, turn right,
and go down the stairs. Dizziness sets in. I see a janitor mopping a floor. A
librarian is leading some young freshman up the stairs. A dog barks in the
distance.
    I duck into a corner and open the back of the
book where they keep the security sensor. After an impromptu surgery with my
ballpoint pen, the sensor is out and I am free to adopt the book as my own.
    When we go outside I notice how cold it has
become. Normally I don’t notice things like the weather but this time the
temperature slaps me in the face. Casey grabs my arm and leads me to the next
building. “In here,” he says.
    “Why?”
    “I have to show you something.”
    I stand in front of the door to the new
building and look at my reflection in the glass doors. The library is no longer
behind me. It is an industrial park filled with 18-wheelers hauling
merchandise, pallets of plastic-wrapped boxes, and stocky, sweaty workers
operating worn-out forklifts.
    Casey opens the door for me and I walk
inside.
    In front of me is a vending machine offering
candy bars and potato chips. I dig in my pocket because I usually keep a little
bit of change on me. This time, however, I am broke. “Got some quarters?” I ask
Casey.
    “Nope.”
    “Dollar bills?”
    “Nope.”
    “Well then….” I say, disappointed but
understanding. Casey is usually broke. I don’t even know why I had expected him
to have any money.
    We walk down a hallway that is lined with
brick walls and trophy cases. Occasionally there is a framed picture of some
obscure aspect of biology or architecture.
    “What building are we in?” I ask.
    “Building Three.”
    “No, I meant, like…..” I start but stop when
we approach an elevator.
    The doors open revealing an extremely large
but empty elevator. There is a sound like someone punching a bag of rice. I
used to eat a lot of rice when I was in college. White rice with processed
American cheese melted on top. I had probably eaten that for five out of seven
dinners each week. The other times I ate a few bowls of some generic cereal. It
was never extravagant but it’s all I was able to afford and to be honest, it’s all I really wanted to eat.
    We step into the elevator and Casey presses
the button for the third floor.
    “Where are we going?” I ask.
    “I have to drop something off.”
    “Where?”
    “Third floor.”
    “No, I meant, like…..” The elevator starts
and then stops quickly. I almost fall over. Now I notice my bladder was full.
    “There a bathroom on the third floor?”
    “Probably,” Casey says. “Yes, I’m pretty
sure there definitely is.”
    The doors open and we step out into a bright
hallway that does not look like a college. If I knew any better I would have to
say it belongs in some sort of office building in an industrial park.
    “Where are we going?” I say.
    “Down here,” Casey says, leading me down the
hallway and then down another corridor to the right. This hallway is darker
than the first and smells like cheese being cooked in a microwave.
    “What’s that sound?” I say. It is like a tin
sphere being attacked with spoons.
    “I don’t know,” Casey says. “I’ve never been
here before.”
    “Where? The third floor?”
    “No.”
    “This building?”
    “No, this college.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’ve never been here before.”
    We reach the end of the hall. The burning
cheese smell is stronger and so is the sound of sphere versus spoons.
    The door is barely visible on the brick wall
as if drawn in chalk. But indeed it is a real door because Casey opens it with
a slight push to the center.
    “Thanks for coming with me,” Casey says.
    “No problem,” I say.
    We walk into my bedroom and I sit in front
of my bookshelf. I randomly grab a book and set it down in front of me. Casey
also grabs a book but throws his on my bed.
    “Your books smell old,” he says.
    “That’s a weird thing to say.”
    “But it’s