His name was ?ee. That’s all that he could remember. His conscious faded in and out, catching slight glimpses of what surrounded him. There we books everywhere of all different types and colors, shelf after shelf. In his short spurts of consciousness, he stumbled trying to stand and get a grasp of what was happening to him. He was in full panic, and amongst the confusion he remembered seeing a face. It was a colored man’s face, and held no emotion. It gave off an unsettling sense, as if he knew something beyond ?ee’s comprehension.
In an instant, everything cleared up. ?ee had regained full conscious, but he still had no idea where he was at. He stood up and looked around, trying to make sense of what was happening. He stood in what seemed to be a very long aisle of an old library. The shelves extended a great distance in both directions. The shelves were very tall, so he couldn’t see over them, and there was no chance that he could climb over them.  All he could see above the shelves were the four walls, which seemed ridiculously far away for a library.
?ee spotted a brown dome poking over the tall shelf tops. He walked over to the general proximity of it and called out. Panic surged through his body as he realized that no words came out of his mouth. No matter how hard he tried to speak, his voice was silent. He began to scream, but he could not scream either. He fell to his knees in sheer disbelief of what he was experiencing. Was it a dream?
His answer came from a very unique source, as the dome above the shelves raised and revealed the face of the man of which ?ee saw prior. His mouth didn’t move, but yet he spoke, “A dream is a reality you make for yourself, so you are mistaken. This is, in fact, real-life, but different since you’re not used to seeing it this way.” How could he have spoken without even moving his mouth, and why was he speaking in such riddle? With that the man responded, “The mind is a man’s loudest voice. What a man says means nothing compared to what he truly thinks.”
It became clear to ?ee that they were communicating through thought. He began to panic, trying not to think of anything that would leave him any more vulnerable than he already was.
“It doesn’t matter,” said the man, “I already know everything about you.” He climbed over the bookshelf in a slow, smooth motion. He was much taller than any man ?ee had ever seen before. He was dressed in a sharp, 1930’s suit. It was worn and beaten, and looking at such a garb reminded ?ee that he hadn’t looked yet at what he was wearing.
Upon tilting his head downward, his face went white. He was wearing a white hospital gown, dripping with blood. In a panic, he ra his hands all over his body, looking for the source. Upon touching his forehead, he found a circular hole. Curiously, he began to dig a finger into the hole.
“If you value your life, you must pay respect to the fast metal inside of you. Let it take its natural path, just as you do,” spoke the tall man. The way he worded his statements were mysterious, but got the point across. He lowered his hand and began to think about his situation. Fast metal. That was the term he used. Taking its natural path? Where was he? What was this mysterious library?
“Take a book and see for yourself.” ?ee had forgotten that the man spoke through thought and could hear everything that he was thinking about. He obediently reached for a random book. It was a beautiful red book. It was worn and old, and had pictures crammed in the pages. He opened it slowly and carefully, as to not damage the binding and parchment.
Through careful examination he quickly realized that the entire book was dedicated to nobody but himself. Actually, it was a specific memory he had as a small child. It was one he held very dear. It was the first christmas he could remember. He saw his mother and father, showering him with selfless gifts and love in the living room of his old house. A small dribble of blood rolled down his nose and fell off his face. It hit the picture attached to the page right on his own knee. It absorbed into to photo and became one with the picture. Instantly he could remember that early that morning he had fallen in the kitchen and busted his knee, but he couldn't remember the action of it happening.
“A memory is a fragile and sensitive thing. It can be easily manipulated and changed by outside sources,” spoke the man. Again, his tricky words made some sort of sense to ?ee, as he grabbed for another book, and another. All of these good memories were recorded in perfect detail in this library. It brought a tear to his eye. He had already forgotten what the tall man said as the tear slipped off his face. Upon contact with the tear, the book turned black and the bindings shriveled up. ?ee went into shock as he remembered that this memory occurred on the same day of his grandmother’s death. He could have sworn that before it happened at another time, but now he was certain that he remembered his grandma's death on that day.
He threw the book across the aisle, and as it hit the shelf on the other side, it disintegrated in a cloud of black powder. With that, ?ee could not remember what it was that made him so upset. It was as if time had made him forget everything that happened in the last couple seconds.
“Your mind will only remember the things it wants to,” the man spoke again. It was as if he was expecting ?ee’s arrival and was only here to mentor him through his confusion. Though now, ?ee was certain he knew where he was. He was within his own mind, trapped in a world filled with memories of his life, but what caused him to land here? Another drop of blood dripped down his face. His question was answered.
“You’re not dead yet,” the man spoke as he climbed over the shelves once more, “...yet.”
With the disappearance of the man, a blood-curdling scream came from the distance. It was a mixture of pain and shear insanity, and it pained ?ee to hear such a sound, but something was very odd about it. From far down the aisle, he could see the silhouette of a man stumbling quickly towards him. He appeared to be dressed in a doctor’s garb and had an awkward hunch, but his most distinguishing feature was his glowing yellow eyes.
?ee hesitantly approached the figure, which was still quite a distance away, but it was quickly approaching at a surprising speed, despite his hobbling. He let out another scream, eyes focused on ?ee. It soon became clear that something was really wrong here, as the man came close enough that ?ee could distinguish the figure better. His jaw was dislocated, and his limbs were contorted in unnatural directions. Despite this though, it seemed that the figure’s mindlessness pushed it through any pain he could have felt. It was as if his mind was programmed only for the sole purpose of going after ?ee. He was approaching quickly, screaming from his gaping mouth.  ?ee turned and ran the fastest he could the other way down the aisle.
The aisles started to break off into different branches. It was as if the entire library was turning into a maze. Every now and again, when he felt he had gotten ahead of the figure, he would stop and look at the memories held within the books, remembering the times of his life that meant most to him. The farther he ran, the later in his life the memories were. He powered through the early years of his life, as he did not remember all that much, but running through his childhood and teenage years took much much longer.
He ran and he ran. The doctor figure followed, never falling too far behind, and never taking a wrong turn. In fact, it felt as though it were starting to gain ground on him. Upon turning one of the turns, he saw a dead end. Panicked, he turned around. Fear and anxiety filled his body. He turned around to see the doctor figure rounding a corner and slamming into the shelf.
?ee ran into the dead end. He went through the books at the end, looking for something that could maybe save him. The tall black man peeped his head over the bookshelf and gazed down on him.
“When your time comes, you must make terms with it, or you’ll find yourself wandering the maze of your memories for the rest of eternity,” he spoke. ?ee looked through book after book, but the pages were only filled with the actions that had only happened moments ago. On the of the books, there was golden lettering written on the binding that read “My Future.” The figure rounded the corner behind him as ?ee opened the book in a desperate panic, but to his dismay, the pages were blank.
A shriek came from the figure as ?ee fell against the shelf to face it. He was certain this was his end, yet he couldn’t find himself to accept it. He clenched his entire body, expecting the figure to tear him apart, but surprisingly, it had stopped in its tracks. ?ee looked up at him to see him just standing there with limbs contorted and jaw dangling. Its eyes squinted as if it were trying to smile as it reached for a small trap door beneath him. Upon opening it, a power strip was exposed with only one thing plugged into it. ?ee had quickly realised the entire situation, but it was too late. The figure pulled the plug violently. The black figure behind the shelf spoke a soft, “Goodbye,” as ?ee fell to the floor with senses going blank.
?ee awoke suddenly, heart racing. He glanced around him, and found that he was still in the library, in the same dead end he last saw that doctor figure. He strained his hearing to see if he could make out anything, but everything was silent. The creature was gone, but so was the tall, black man. He turned around and found the book labeled “My Future.” From the outside, it looked exactly the same, but on the inside, the pages were no longer blank. Instead, it was filled with various maps of the library, labeled in perfect detail. ?ee fell to his knees and cried, but his sobs were silent. He was alone, never to feel the joys of the living ever again.