Night At The Library (Lost Souls #1)

Chapter 5: Him

As she dashed up and down the stairs, her determination to escape was palpable, yet there was an undeniable charm in her frantic movements. Despite her efforts to flee from me, I couldn't help but be captivated by the innocence and cuteness radiating from her face.

Watching her search desperately for an exit, I couldn't resist a quiet chuckle. It amused me to see her so convinced that there was an actual ghost haunting the library, especially considering I was the only "specter" lurking in these halls.

"The ghost isn't going to come after you, you know," I remarked with a smirk, relishing in her futile attempts to evade my company. It was almost amusing how she hadn't realized yet that she was stuck here with me, trapped within the confines of this ancient library. 

"You know stories go around that chancellor (insert name) is still haunting the halls of this library after a crazy student after lack of sleep thought he was a ghost and killed him with a letter opener." I added, weaving a tale to further unsettle her. The notion of a vengeful spirit haunting these halls seemed to both intrigue and terrify her, and I couldn't help but find amusement in her reactions.

As she froze, her eyes wide with fear, I couldn't resist a mischievous grin. Despite her attempts to escape, it seemed she was now more ensnared by my words than ever before. Watching her belief in the ghost deepen only added to the entertainment of the situation.

"You are joking" she said. I met her incredulous gaze with a playful twinkle in my eyes. "Believe what you will," I replied with a smirk, enjoying the way her skepticism clashed with the lingering fear in her expression. "But they say the truth is often stranger than fiction, don't they?" My words hung in the air, leaving her to ponder the possibility of the chancellor's ghost haunting the library's halls.

I couldn't help play around with her. I couldn't help but play around with her. She seemed like a deer caught in headlights, her eyes wide and darting nervously, as if she was trying to decipher whether to flee or stay rooted in place. Her vulnerability was like a delicate flower in a storm, swaying uncertainly with each gust of wind. Yet, there was a spark of curiosity in her gaze, as if she couldn't resist the allure of the unknown, even if it frightened her. 

I wanted to know more about her.