SCP SBAXXXXX… http://scpsandbox2.wikidot.com/over-s-sanbox
Dwarf Fortress
Pray While Singing your song
You hear twigs snapping behind you
you close your book of poems
you pray
If you have no belief pray to yourself
There is nothing you can do
There are legends of monsters lurking in the Library, of course Librarians can take care of monsters
Big ones, small ones, Book burners, Madmen, Jailors, those with guns.
monsters, true monsters.
Pray, Pray, Pray, Sing
You feel your insides churning
Sweat starts to pool
You there is someone behind you
you want to escape
you can run
You can scream for help
They can come
your brass card shimmers in the light of the library
you are stuck
you cant move
A faint screaming can sometimes be heard.
Something has captured a patron.
Librarians cannot do anything about it.
Others still tell tales of what that is.
TURN AROUND
You hear a voice
your heart pounds
you cant run
it has you know
Sometimes it leave the corpse of a librarian on the ground for all to see.
The librarians cannot do anything about it.
They leave posters so patrons know where not to go.
Some still tread in the dark.
There are many ways to the library
A child plays with her father in a long dead civilization
Some ways are harder than others to find
The Father goes off to fight in a long dead war
sometimes words, feelings, memories, spells, smells, it doesnt matter anything can open a door
The child begins to cry, the little creature gets blinded by her arsenic leaden tears
others, well perhaps a diffrent type of creature can enter
…………………………………………………………………………………….
Ý͉͓̣͈̗ọ̙͍u̡̱̹ ̜͈fe̯̟̣e̜l͙͉͇̙͚ ͏̬̹͙͖̞̤̞y̹͎͕o͢u̺̘̘̤͠r̡̙̳ ͠i̩͖͈̫̞̕n̤͇̬͎͠s͈̫̦̘̗ͅi̧̝͎̟̫̹̖d̢̺̲è̳s ̣g̺͈͙̦͖̖̬u̴̘̳̲͓̼̬s̺̪̟̫͝h̤̞̮͇͉͢ͅͅi̭͙̞̥͇̘͍n̠̗̙̙̼̖g̵̤̲̻̠̱̯̣ ̕in̲̙
͔͖y̟͈̖͚͈̳̤o̳͍̳̳̝̺̤u̼̟̯̤r͖̝̞̦ͅ ͠b̗͍͞o̙̱̠͇̯̱͇n͍̲͡ẹs͚̞̦̗ͅ c̝͉ͅŗ̺̥̳̯͉a͏̖͇͓̘̤̮ć̻k̠̮͓
̛͉̮̠̞̻͕̟y͇̮̩̰͙oͅu̷̩̦͔ͅ ̨f̖̙̥̺̹̝̫e̷̥̬̥͕̪͓e̖̬͎̳͓l̶̗̠̗̘͉̗͙ ̦͍̼͍͓y̼̩̖͈͖͞o̷̮̞͕u͙r̼͚͓ ̸̬̳͇͇̫b̥͕̣̮r҉̘͚̺͙a͝i̸n͝ ͔̮̣͇̣͖̻́c̠͈͍͔͘o̷̞͖̩̘l̺̱͇̺͍l͎̲͕͉a̭̺̝̖̭͚p͇͕͉̭s͙͕̬̙̭e̷̗̘ ͓̟͍̠u͢n͓̜̩d͔̘e̮̝̳̟͎͔ŗ̭̫̮̯̝̠̼ ̯͇̣̹͝p͏͓̫r̻̤͢ḛ̡̣ș̵͕̱̦̱̯̥s̼͙̺͈͝u̪͓̪̩̟ͅr̴̠̻̲̤͍͚ȩ̬͖̼̹̦̮͓
̢͇̳th͖̳̞̖̞̲̦͝e͉̭͝r̛̜̠e̸̟̜̭͖̦ͅ ͖͚͞i҉͓̤s̸̝̖̞ ̪̰̟̜̼̠͘s̻̘̗͎̮͢o̞̥͓̖͓̙̥͞m̭͚͘e̹ṭ͇̞̩̩̩̠h̫̜͔͖̦͇͇i͢n̛̙̤̞̰g̥̠̮̞͎͔͙ ̧͓͉̝̼b̘͉̜͇̥̱̯́u̪͔͙͓̟̘r̢͍͚͓̱͍ṉ̫͉̟̗͓̠į̬̗͔͎͕͓ͅn̫̙g̛̼̻͇̪
͖͖̙͎̦̯b͓̯͕u̠͇͖̜̘̰ͅr͓̠̱n̻i͏n̡̩͖g̙̞̖͍̠̥̻ ̷
̥̻p͓̗͈͖̹̣̤a҉̣i̴̗̙̯ṇ͈͇̟
̞̦̞́
̢y̗̩͖̞͔̱o̠̫̯̬̳̺͈ṵ͍ ̲̟̳̻̖̖̤͟t̹̰͚̗̤̟ur҉̳͖̗͙ͅn͈̭̘ ̥̹̭͔͇̼͝ͅa͉̳̞̪̥͘r̗o̺̘͚͘u̦̻̦̙̙̖̱n̷͉͇̣d̹̫̜͎͍͉͈ ̭͎̝͇de̛̱̭̩̘̠s̯p͙̙i̸̞͖͖ţe͎̳̬͇ͅ ̲̱͖͔t̛ḩ̻̙͔͇͚͎i͉̬s̥̝̞͎
The Child laughs.
The becomes hard to breath in
There is a little child
you stand unable to speak
it raises its paw/claw/tentacle/hand/gas formation/data
books begin to levitate
the air turns to chlorine
you hear screaming perhaps, it is your scream…
you sing.
you feel alright
you pray while you sing
The child remembers lullabies of a long dead past
it opens and closes a book
you feel your insides folding in
you hum a familiar tune..out of fear..and acceptance of fate
You pray
you sing a song
YOU BETTER PRAY
THE CHILD
IS CRYING
There are many ways to the library
A door opens from the side
Why this is is unknown
The Child Laughs
Librarians peacefully sift through books
The Child Laughs
Patrons ask quietly for books
The Child's arsenic leaden tears burn the ground
Books sit in their place
A Smile takes the place of a Frown
Light streams through the window in an alien world
The Father is dying
The mother was long dead
The Home of the child is destroyed due to war
Soldiers bring back 2 pocket watches, a sketchpad, a gem, Glasses, and a Pencil
what does this mean ?
it means your whole family is gone
You look at the child.
Tears run down it's face.
It read your mind
"it happened to you ?"
you nod
"are you me?"
The monster is you.
not you, but other you's
There are many ways to the library
The Child stops, unable to understand
Sometimes ways overlap
You stand you feel your body relax
The Library can connect everywhere
Who knows how many of you are out there
An Interdimesional Love story ?
Today I met a friend.
Her name was Anah, she was scared.
I told her how to get home.
I like her, she is funny.
Today I went to
"Do you know the about the Library ?",
"No. what is a Li-Bra-ry ?",
"oh, do you not know what a Library is ?",
"No.",
"Let me tell you",
"…."
…………………………………
The Library built for unknown reasons, built by unknown person, perhaps built for more esoteric reasons, reason we fail to understand. Built by either god, or the devil. Built by either a version of you, or me. Maybe even versions of us whom are Gods.
A Library is a collection of information written in books.
"What are Books ?"
"Oh, haha, I forgot that you don't know about books",
"Uhhh"
" Hand me that stick"
"why ?"
"Just let me show you"
"Okay…………………."
This is a book, a symbol, a series of symbols that define a meaning
This is the Sun
☉
This is the moon
☾
These are stars
☆☆★
Words can mean so much more, words can breathe so much life into lives.
Words can make you scream, cry, laugh, or smile
Words are magic, able to convey meaning, thoughts feelings, they can do so much more than "SUN" and "MOON"
The words I am speaking through my mouth, the questions you ask can be written down.
"Can stories be written down"
"Ah I see you are much smarter than you look, stories being passed down from generation to generation through a storyteller, I presume your tribe has a storyteller right ?"
"our storyteller died"
"Oh Im so sorry for your loss"
Stories of Heroes, Mages, Seers, Thieves, Kings, and Princesses written down.
Children like you fighting against evil, Demons, and Demi-gods.
Words can send us to different places, make us live lives we could never had lived.
Imagine almost every book, er every story being told everything, ever told every word ever spoken, ever will be spoken, and never had been spoken. Lives of long forgotten heroes and villans.
It is open, only through a door, wether through thought, feeling, or even spell. Anything can open a door to the library.
"I still dont understand"
"Ah. well let me give you this"
'What is this ?"
"A book.."
This is my duty, punishment, or gift.
I am the Messenger, a mere traveler. I bring riches not of gold nor silver.
But of Knowlege.
I gave a tiny child a book.
by which I mean I gave stories, I gave knowlege.
I bought a spark from within.
I lit the fire.
AND THE FIRE WILL RADIATE THROUGHOUT TIME AND SPACE.
I gave them fire.
I am Prometheus.
My eyes caked over with ages of dust. Legs weary of walking, throat torn apart be centuries of speaking.
I move on, having to make up for my transgressions. I speak the languages of many. I breath the air of many.
I stand on the legs of many, I take the from that you are most comfortable with. I walk through the Library with my talons, legs or tentacles. But you may not know me, Hell. you may not see me.
This is who I am.
Cold crying child. Seeing my village torn apart by monsters. Family long gone, Wife, Husband, Child, Mother, Father, Brother, Sister long dead.
Lost and Fallen down.
Eyes long gone. Legs long torn apart by beasts. Hands worn down.
A librarian looks upon these children with pity
A form more durable than any mortal creature
The library is full of children eager to learn the secrets of life.
The child can be anything, old, young, tall, or small. It doesnt matter for I can be any of these.
My story is of death, I began to lose control, letting my rage take control.
I created death. I made families lose children. Whom the ghosts still follow me with leering smiles.
These smiles are not of hate, for they have forgiven me.
"I don't know whats happening"
"ah I am sorry my child"
"Who are you ?"
"Ha, I pondered that question many times"
You see a long time ago another Traveler seeking shelter from the rain stumbled upon the library.
He became lost. He found books, legends tales, in tounges he could barely make sense of. Librarians became interested in this new form of book.
You as far, as librarians are concerned Books are their main obsession.
They begged the traveler for the knowledge inside of his mind. The Traveler was all too happy to oblige.
Stories of Beasts and Heroes never written, and that have been forgotten.
For our stories do not begin with written symbols but with spoken word.
A new class was created to gather stories, to hold them in their mind,
….
The Traveler
:O)