The university library was a historical landmark, built in the 1870s and one of the few buildings in this part of the world using the particular technique of an exposed interior cast-iron skeleton. It was this construction technique, with its ornate pillars painted green, that allowed the central book hall, the oldest part of the building, to be built like a three storey room lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, ringed with walkways. The main floor was filled with bookshelves as well, set in a diagonal, mazelike square pattern.
Everything was built in some dark wood, with fluorescent lights mounted on the shelves in faux-antique brass holders, and enormous lanterns in brass and green opaque glass hanging from the painted ceiling. The only disadvantage of this large hall was the acoustics created by the high ceiling, amplifying every sound and creating an almost ominous atmosphere. The wall on the bottom floor was lined with study tables, all in the same dark wood as the rest of the furniture, each with its own green desk lamp and, in a concession to technological advancement, a wall socket where people could plug in their laptops. Because of the acoustics, a strict "Sshh!" policy was enforced in this part of the library.
This sector of the library was, obviously, the managements' pride and joy, and also very lucrative. Since it was designated an architectural landmark, it received government funding just to keep it standing, funding separate from the library's other funding which could then be used to stock and equip the rest of the organization. Only about a third of the library's stock was located in here, most of it related to history of one variety or another. The room was mostly used for quiet, one-- on-- one studying by doctorate students.
Alan Harper, 35-year-old librarian and charged with acquisitions and reference work in the historical sector of the university library, one of three in that work group, was making his rounds before closing time. It was Monday, and the library was open until 10pm for the benefit of late- working students. He didn't mind working this late, he had always considered himself more nocturnal anyway, and the evenings were almost always more quiet than the day shift.
He had worked at this library for just over four years, finally securing a steady job after having several short term library jobs, working as a temp or on some project or other. It was a good job, as such things go: he had just enough responsibility to feel useful, but not so much that it would overwhelm him any time soon, the pay was decent and he had been able to structure his working hours to suit him acceptably well. He felt that he had risen to his level of competence, and most days offered at least some challenge in the form of more or less complicated reference questions from the students.
Alan lived by himself in a modest apartment only a few bus stops away from the library, and liked it that way. He had over the years had a few longer relationships, and had even lived with a girl for two years, but he had discovered that his need for solitude just wasn't reconcilable with living together with another person in a small apartment. They had parted as friends, more or less, but both had since moved to other cities and had lost touch.
Since then Alan had dated briefly a few times, but not much had come of it and he had mostly given up. Every couple of weeks he went to a local pub with a few friends, listened to some music and had a few drinks, but the group had dwindled lately as some of the others had settled down with partners and children.
His only other activity outside of work consisted in his weekly workout classes. He had always loathed going to gym or playing sports, but a few years earlier he had gone to the doctor with an insistent ache in his back, and received a sharp telling off, so he had started going to group exercises offered by the students' sports society and had eventually grown to like it. He was by no means athletic, but kept in shape well enough that his back no longer hurt, and he had been using the same size of trousers ever since he started the workout.
Alan was of slightly above medium height, with a slender build and moderately handsome features, with dark hair that seemed constantly windswept in spite of his efforts to control it. Some of the students had likened him to Harry Potter because of this, and because of his oval glasses, but he had only ever read the first book in the series and didn't quite grasp the reference. He had never considered himself a hunk in any way, but knew that he was at least attractive enough to draw looks from some of the staff and students.
Today it was October 31st, Halloween, and the rain lashed appropriately at the windows of the library. He remembered how he, in younger days, had turned this day into a festival together with his other Goth friends, but that was years ago. Tonight, he was just going to do the round, wave goodbye to the other evening staff and spend a couple of hours catching up on some cataloguing he had missed.
Some months earlier, as the fall semester began, he had noticed a new addition to the teaching staff. A petite brunette who, like him, favoured generic black clothing, had started turning up at the library asking for books on anthropology and history, and he had soon learned that her name was Helen, and she was a doctorate student who had transferred from another school to write her thesis, and supported her studies by teaching classes. She was new in town, and didn't know anybody outside her faculty.
Since Alan often worked the late shift on Mondays, and usually did reference work in the history and anthropology section, they met often and had developed an easy and familiar professional relation, although none of them had made any effort to get to know the other privately. Sometimes as they worked to find some obscure piece of historical writing, they meandered into other topics of conversation, and lost an hour or two talking before realizing what they were supposed to be doing.
It turned out that they shared some of the same interests, including a somewhat morbid fascination in medieval medical instruments and torture devices. Alan had never before met anyone who was not slightly unnerved by the talk of iron maidens and Spanish pears. On one occasion they began talking about historical views on sexuality and its practices, but quickly left the subject, a little embarrassed. And a little aroused.
After a couple of months he found that he had begun to anticipate her almost daily appearances in the library with something akin to joy, and he though he could notice a delighted gleam in her eyes when they met. He also caught himself thinking about how her slightly wavy, dark brown hair glistened in the sun beams coming through the windows, or how intensely brown her eyes really were behind her neat glasses. He had decided not to act on these impulses, not wanting to jeopardize their good accord because of something that may well only exist in his own head.
He waved off Stan and Elizabeth, the other two staffers on the late shift, locked the door and made a final round through the library, turning out the lights as he went. The last room he visited was the ancient book hall. Having already gone through this room before closing time, and not having seen anyone going in, he only made a circuit around the wall and went back to the door. As he turned off the main light, only leaving the constantly burning night lights along the walls to illuminate the great hall, he heard a woman's voice burst out in a surprised "Oh!" from somewhere in the stacks.
'Damn it', he thought to himself, 'we must have missed someone'. Out loud he called:
"Hello? Who is there?"
"It's just me," the muffled voice came back. "I must have lost track of time. I'll be right out." He could hear footsteps closing in.
A few moments later, Helen came into view, weaving her way out of the labyrinth with an enormous folio in her arms. Her small stature made the book seem even larger.
