I had no choice. I suddenly turned the doorknob, and then gave the door a slight kick, not wanting to touch the forbidden door by my hand. The door moved in the inward direction in a slow-motion, along with the creaking of the hinges. I looked down at the threshold, the borderline between me and the dreadful foyer in which the werewolf first met me. Gulping, I stepped over the threshold, and then witnessed a horrible sight!

My eyes bulged and my mouth almost fell open to my knees, because what I was seeing in front of me that time was no less than a deadly massacre. The foyer was sprawled with bodies! Dead bodies! Their throats were gnashed and their abdomens were torn open, letting out the extreme flow of crimson blood and different body organs. Their dead eyes stared up at the ceiling, giving a hint that they saw something horrible before they were ripped by...

"Oh no... Is that- Did that- Oh-"

I quickly clamped a trembling hand over my nose, trying to block the damp and the salty aroma of the blood which invaded the foyer. I closed my eyes shut, and, my hand still pressed on my nose, I screamed so loud that it could shatter a thousand windows in the house.

MA'S/DARLA'S POV.
I should've walked with Hannah to the library at the first opportunity because, after an hour, the memory which usually played tricks on me decided to remind me about the books which I had borrowed from the local library. The books which were based on everything that is holy and all the things one had to learn about Christianity. The young nuns and the sisters who usually formed a convent were off to their short vacations at their own homes. I had sent them to the vacations so that I could clean the church and buy some new books for the young nuns.

But the books which I had borrowed two days ago turned out to be the wrong books. Books based on political and social rights. A genre which I admired, but had no interest in reading about it. The thought had planted itself in my mind that maybe the new librarian, Mr. Rutherford Napolean, also known as the famous graduate scholar from the Oxford University Campus in London, had intentionally given me these books just so I could pay him extra.

I knew that I was a priestess, and I shouldn't have thought such a guilty thought, but what do you expect from a man who shouts at everything, has a rigid face and stabs a person constantly with sarcastic remarks? I hope something not too pleasant.

So there I was, taking out the books from my bag as Rutherford tapped his fingers rapidly, waiting for me behind the counter.

"Was reading about 'human rights' making you sick to your stomach?" He said with a raised eyebrow as I slipped a 'human rights' book out of the bag and then handed it over to him.

"N-No. Why would you say that? I am a priestess you see, so I am very much interested in reading about human rights, but I afraid that these are not the books I wanted at the moment."

"Ah-!"

My brows furrowed as the librarian began to scoff, apparently ridiculing me.

"I should've known that what priestesses want. Of course, it wasn't very clever of me to hand you the wrong books. Now you know that one has to pay to return the books to the library..."

My nostrils flared as the animal inside me started to take control over me, but then I remembered that anger is a type of a sin that can make a bad situation worse, so I decided to stay calm by ballot my hands into tight fists. So tight, that my fingernails dug deep into my flesh.

"...Now... What are you waiting for? Hand me the money or I'll ask you kindly to leave-"

"I believe that it is all your fault. You intentionally handed me the wrong books, so there. I won't pay you any money!"

He rolled his eyes and then folded his arms around his chest, giving me a hideous and a menacing look. His long white hair glittered under the bright orange lights of the chandeliers, and then finally, he spoke. "Huh- It's useless to cast pearls before swine."

"You calling me a swine?" I pointed my own finger at me.

"Please tell me that I didn't commit a sin. Please tell me that I don't have to bathe in holy water!"

"You don't have to bath in holy water", I boomed. "But... God! You need an exorcism fast! Anyways, did some girl named Hannah to come to the library right now?"

"You mean the one with the dark Auburn hair? Black thick-framed glasses? Bouncy bangs?... And along with height? Yes. She came in the morning, but the scoundrel got too scared when she saw me. Left that instant."

"You-" I sputtered. "Y-You... She did not come? Then where did she go?"

He shrugged his shoulders, and then grabbed a small blue book from the counter table, carrying it in his armpit. "I don't know about you, but the library's gonna close. Look at the time. It's nearly ten. Come back again tomorrow morning and get your stupid books! Right now, I have to leave!" And with saying this, he started to take long strides towards a narrow row of bookshelves, looking like a phantom in the ghastly pale glow of the chandelier and in the long black robe.

If Hannah didn't go to the library, then where did she went?

HANNAH'S POV.
The foyer was a complete hot mess, and there were signs of struggle everywhere! The toppled furniture; the rived wallpaper; the long streaks of blood drawn on the wall. It was all too horrible and disgusting to take within! Sure I had seen dead bodies before, as I was a journalist, and crime was my passion, but I had never ever seen these types of dead bodies.

A chair and a table lay upside down on a carpet of the rufescent bobbled esophagus and a dark bloody organ that looked to me like a lived. A man's hands laid curled and tangled in his own intestines, and a woman's legs were nowhere in sight. Just the small hint of two pearl white bones sticking out from the parts from where her legs were torn off. These dead people in front of me looked like slaughtered animals.

I decided to go a little closer to the bodies and investigate.  I hoped to find some clues. I already knew what had killed them, but I just wanted to find a new lead. A new lead to a search for my dearest grandma.

I was careful not to step into a rotting piece of flesh or a blob of repulsive meat somewhere on the way as I quietly and slowly moved close to the body of the woman. Her sunken grey eyes looked up at me as if she was asking for help, but I knew that now it was too late. A fly crawled out of her open mouth, followed by two other flies, and they spattered off quickly in different directions, buzzing noisily.

I inspected her body with curiosity, hoping to find out a clue, but there was nothing interesting on her body and all I could see was just blood, blood, and LOTS of blood. God! I had never seen so too much blood in my entire life but now...

And then, that was the moment when my investigative skills started to buckle up when my sight landed on the black strap of a bag hanging onto the woman's shoulder. The bag was also spattered with blood, which meant that I was not touching that! Eww! But still, I slowly lowered my hand, curled a finger around the strap, and started to carefully slide it out of the woman's arm.

I looked around for a place where I could settle the bag and then found a table leaning against the staircase railing. I dropped it on the table and quickly opened the zipper, drowning my hand into a pink shawl and a purple scarf to draw out something hard underneath. My forehead started to sweat as morbid thoughts circulated my confused head.

If the same werewolf or the creature outside the house finds me before it's too late, I would be dead meat!

My finger touched something, and then I grasped the object, pulling it out. It turned out to be a small brown leather book with a furnished cover. Just like my journal but a LOT smaller in size.

There was nothing else in the bag except for the clothes, so I slipped the leather book inside my satchel. It bounced onto a couple of my thesis books and some other stuff, and then I zipped the bag. An important clue. I had plans to read the leather book, now I would like to call it a journal ahead, later... If I survived.

I stepped over the leg-less woman to the old-bald man to search for clues. His eyes were sparkling blue but were filled with extreme sadness and melancholy. His mouth was also hung open, exposing a row of rotten teeth plastered with yelloish-brown plaque. Disgusting.
I eyed his body. Nothing interesting. Just blood and blood.

I repeated the action of stepping over a body and moving on to the next. The next body was a mess, but it was no match in front of the two previous "torn-apart" bodies. This body of the old man appeared to be ghastly pale, I suppose because there wasn't too much blood soaking his clothes and drenching his body. The man almost--almost-- looked alive. His eyes were closed, and his brows were knitted up on the forehead from the top, and low on the bottom of the eyebrows. A sad expression.

I eyed his body, and discovered a deep hurtful slash slashed across his abdomen. His hand was resting on the place where the slash had been made, and the other was just one inch away from my feet, laying on the floor, lifeless. I didn't knew that what had gotten into me, but at that time, the man almost looked alive............................

I fixed my eyes on the face of the man, and, I never knew that it would happen, it was too fast. Too fast and eerie. Too fast and-and- terrifying! Too fast and terrifying that the man's eyes zapped open, his legs bolted, and then he opened his mouth to spill out a heavy painful moan.