Destined to the Hellhound: BEAST

Chapter 11

The smell of mildew hangs in the air as I step further into the room. There are more books here than I have ever seen.

Double what we had in our library at home.

It looks as if no one has entered in years. A thick layer of dust coats everything. The rod holding up the thick black curtains is broken, allowing light to stream in from the single window at the end of the room.

Maneuvering around stacks of books, I pull them completely open and force the window up. A rush of freezing air blows through the room, kicking up dust everywhere.

Coughing and sputtering, I wave my hands in the air, trying to clear it.

A library? I was expecting something exciting. Treasure or gold, stolen artwork, and statues, maybe his torture room. But it's just shelf after shelf of dusty books and a few armchairs.

Pulling one out, I dust it off and open it, flipping through the pages before replacing it. There are novels, histories, large leather-bound books that appear to be hand-written records, medical texts, and maps.

Some are written in dead ancient languages that I recognize but can't understand.

I'm struggling to understand why he would lock this room.

A huge book with a crumbling spine catches my attention. When I pull it from the shelf, several pages fall out onto the floor.

"Shit," I set it down on the ground and gather the pages. This must be the oldest book I've ever seen.

Carefully opening the cover, I slowly, and gently look through the pages. My body freezes as I look down at an illustration of a three-headed wolf.

It's him.

It's so realistic that I can almost hear the growling sound of his breath. Wirey dark fur and razor-sharp teeth make my fingers tremble just holding the page. It's the eyes that really frighten me. They're looking up at me from the page, watching me. Quickly moving on, I turn to another page.

Flipping through the pages, I stop at another sketch. "Typhoeus and Echidna." They look like giant, half-snake, half-human monsters. Human torsos and heads with a snake-like lower body. I wish I could read the words.

"They are my parents," his voice makes me scream.

"I-"

"What are you doing in here?"

"You said I could explore." I shrug. I hadn't meant to get caught up here for so long.

"So you thought behind a locked door was the perfect place to start?" He doesn't sound or look angry.

"Why is it locked? There isn't anything in here that needs to be locked away."

"The book you're holding is three hundred years old. It is the history of my life." He steps past me, walking to the far shelf beside the window. Reaching up, he feels around on the top, pulling down a red leather book, etched with some kind of seal. I've never seen it before, but as he sets it down beside me, I feel instantly nervous. My hands tremble, and my palms go clammy. My heart is racing as I stare at the seal.

"What is this?"

"This holds the answers to all of your questions. There are people who would kill for this book." He sits on one of the chairs, waiting.

Holding my breath, I open the cover, and my shoulders slump. "I can't read this!"

"You don't speak dead languages?"

"No, no one does, that's why they're dead." I groan. I thought I was going to get some real answers here.

"Robin, what's my name," he asks with expectation in his voice.