Hypnogoria: Hypnogoria Halloween Advent Calendar - Door 22

Further extracts from the diaries of Mr Michael Dalby, head of the the Centre for Local History Studies, Redvale Library

14th October 2023

Slept terribly last night. And when I did sleep, awful anxiety dreams. Lost in a dark wood, every path leading just deeper into thickets of dead trees. And a constant nagging sense that something was stealthily following close behind, something I could never see but, I knew somehow, had sharp talons and shining eyes.

The latter aspect I attribute to the owl I heard hooting when I awoke in the middle of the night. But the rest, I think, relates to my dilemma. Now the rational part of me has been saying that the bookmark is of no consequence. It might not even belong to the missing lad, although I feel sure it does. And furthermore what use would it be to report it to the police. They are satisfied with my tale that I found the book hidden away, and I can see no value in reporting the bookmark’s discovery, for that would effectively be informing the parents that their missing son was a thief.

However none of this leads my mind out of the dark tangles, the crooked paths of thought where cracked voices whisper among the thorns and dead twigs. The book was returned, was it not? That is the truth of it, the truth I am trying to leave behind. But who returned it and how? A nagging voice insists that if it was Robert, that places him at the library a considerable amount of time after the last witness sighting of him. He was last seen on the night of the 9th, but the book reappeared on my desk at some point between closing time on 11th and opening up on the morning of 12th.

By lunchtime, I had made a decision - I took Sanj into my confidence. Of course, he had never believed my dubious tale of the book’s rediscovery, and I think he had been expecting this conversation. As it was, I was exceedingly grateful and glad that he had already done some digging of his own. He had already been over the security footage and made a thorough inspection of the library’s entrances and windows. He is confident that no one got into the building that night. The footage, he assures me, doesn’t even show anyone passing by the library that night, let alone an intruder.

However he made another very good point, one I had not considered. He said to me “Mikey, you know kids these days - they are virtually welded to their phones. And you can bet your life, the police have used every trick in the book to track him by that phone. I’ll bet if he had been anywhere near here they would have been round to check the cam footage and canvas for witnesses.” It’s a very good point. Smart man Sanj.

But I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or worse though. On one hand, If there was no break-in, the bookmark has no bearing on the case. But on the other, that leaves a perhaps more troublesome question of how the book reappeared. I am confident I was the last person out of the library on the 11th, as Kath asked me specifically to arm the security system before I left. And I know I was the first one in. And that seems to rule out the only other possibility, that the book was taken - and returned - by one of the staff. Well, it rules out the only other rational possibility.

15th October 2023

Terrible dreams again last night. Again lost in a dark wood, but worse this time. Running down twisting paths in the dead of night, hardly able to see a thing, lashed by dead branches, and scratched by tangling thistles. And something huge crashing through the wood behind me, something slimy and black and chuckling in a dozen deep dark bubbling voices.

I awoke with my heart pounding and drenched in sweat at just after three in the morning. Damn owl hooting outside again. I was very shaken by this nightmare, it’s the first real nightmare I’ve had since I was a kid. However what kept me up sipping coffee until dawn was something I recalled from the dream. I am sure one of those horrid voices at one stage of the pursuit said in mocking tones the phrase - “on your desk”.

Was it Poe who said the mind is a monkey? Certainly the brain works in mysterious ways, and mine apparently decided to highlight something I was attempting to overlook. For the book wasn’t just returned. I mean, it wasn’t put back in the display where it was stolen from. No, it was placed on my desk, my desk in my little office. Now if it had been placed on the Local Studies desk or any of the other counters in the library, I would understand that. Just dump it, and let the staff return it to its proper place. A regular number of books are returned in that fashion by customers too idle to wait.

But no, it was on my desk. Placed right in the middle, and what’s more placed facing me, or at least my chair. Someone specifically wanted to return the book to me. A gesture of apology perhaps? Or something else? I do not know. I am too tired to chase these questions. Hoping to sleep better tonight.

16th October 2023

Another restless night, dreaming of dark things. At least more vague this time, and not in that damn forest. I was wandering through the streets on a misty day. Trying to get to work I think. But I couldn’t seem to find the library. And anyone I saw, just mere shapes in the fog, would run away before I could ask for directions. A classic anxiety dream, I suppose.

Sanj looked rough this morning too. Said he had had a bad night as well. I think the book business is weighing on his mind too. But then again, he is extra busy, what with being on the organising committee for the lantern parade this year. However, while perhaps I am just projecting, but it did seem to me that a lot of the staff are looking a little worn out too. I guess the missing boy is weighing on us all a bit more heavily than we suspect.

17th October 2023

I think things are returning to normal slowly. But I am still sleeping badly, despite getting a little something from the doctor. However the pills seem to have fended off the dreams though. Perhaps I just don’t remember them, but I was glad of the break to be honest.

However when I saw her last night, Dr Nesbit did make a remark that I wasn’t the first patient she had seen this week with sleep problems. It was just a passing remark but it stuck out. And today, I have overheard quite a few visitors mention they are sleeping badly or having bad dreams.

I was inclined to think it was just because I am focusing on my own troubles. But I did take a wander around the stacks in the non fiction section and noticed that every book we have on sleep and dreams are out on loan at the moment. Is it perhaps just the time of the year, the change of the seasons? After all, it’s nearly time to change the clocks. Note to self - see if Sanj can whip up a spreadsheet of loans of sleep and dream books over the last few years. Wonder if there is a pattern?

18th October 2023

Sleeping better now thanks to the pills, which seem to be kicking in. Had the first good night’s rest in over a week. Weather has been better, which helps I think. And Sanj tells me there’s a plan for something big for this year’s lantern parade on Hallowe’en night. But he won’t tell me what! Still, something to look forward to.

19th October 2023

It is funny what you pick up working in a library. Even in this modern age, visitors still respect the old command to be silent in a library, even the kids. However, I have often noticed that when people try to talk quietly, they often adopt stage whispers that tend to carry to every corner of the room. Hence we librarians tend to be forever eavesdropping whether we like it or not.

Overheard something strange today though. Or rather, how it happened was odd. I was in the reference section hunting down something for a visitor, an old directory of the town shops. It was proving to be somewhat elusive, and while I was hunting through various document boxes, I could hear two voices talking in the next stack. I assumed it was a pair of teenagers, but I couldn’t tell you much more. One voice was young and soft and the other deeper, maybe older.

And while I could hear every word, I hadn’t a clue what they were talking about.

“Still don’t get it” said the deep voice.

“No,” said the other, “But he will,”

“They always see in the end,”

“She saw the other night, saw to the bone”

This prompted some chuckling.

“Oh yes, I heard they won’t be able to stitch it back on”

“He could though,”

“Yes, he could when he returns...”

This prompted more giggling, and the librarian in me kicked in and I strode round the shelves to give them a gentle but stern reminder to keep it down.

But they must have already been on their way, for there was no one there.

20th October 2023

The dreams seem to be seeping back again, again wandering through the streets on a misty day. But this wasn’t the real Haggleton, this was a larger, more sprawling dream Haggleton. All the streets were the same but somehow expanded and more elaborate. It is hard to describe. But this time I wasn’t lost, instead I was following a tall figure, insanely tall and thin now I come to write this down. I could only just see their silhouette ahead of me in the mist, and I think they might have had a cane because there was a clicking when they walked down the winding cobbled streets.

With that strange logic one has in dreams, I knew I must follow where the figure walked. And so I did. If I was distracted or dawdled, it would pause and wait, slighting turning as if to beckon me onward. Occasionally I lost sight of the figure and a panic came over me. I am not sure why because wherever the figure had walked there were little mushrooms springing up between the cobbles, faintly phosphorescent as if to light the way. Bells chimed in the mist, and I think I could hear someone singing. I think we were heading to the library, but I woke before we arrived.

Very strange. Perhaps somehow shaped by the sleeping pills I am taking? Maybe I will lay off them tonight, or at least cut down the dose.

21st October 2023

I am feeling troubled again. I try not to think of the book, safely locked away deep in the vaults. But there seems to be something in the air that makes me anxious. The atmosphere in the library felt very brittle today. I overheard more talk of poor sleeping.

Also overheard something I really wish I had not. Apparently earlier in the week, a young lady had some sort of breakdown in the dead of night. Woke up most of her street screaming. She had made quite a mess of herself apparently. Airlifted to Ashlington General and might be transferred to Manchester for specialist surgery. Horrible, just horrible. No wonder people are on edge.

Another odd thing, probably nothing, but it bothered me nonetheless. We have had more school parties in, and obviously there is often a certain amount to clear up. And while on tidying duties after today’s visit, I found a ragged bit of paper in the doorway of my office. Written out in a spidery hand, in blue crayon, were the following lines -

In the cold gray mask of morning I cry out
But no one feels the sound that I shout
And you don't hear me through the tears you've shed

In the dreamworld that you've found
Will one day drag you down
The mirror of illusion reflects the smile

The world from your back door seems so wide
The house, so tiny it is from inside
A box that you're still living in
I cannot see for why
You think you've found perception doors
They open to a lie

I showed it to Sanj and he instantly twigged that they were probably song lyrics. And they were - an oldie called Mirror of Illusion by Hawkwind of all people. We both were quite surprised that today’s teens would be listening to a hoary old rock song like that, and had a bit of a chuckle about it.

But sitting here now, before I retire to bed, it doesn't seem so funny. Those words are uncomfortably lingering in my mind, in particular the lines -