Mina ✓

•|chapter eight: the arrival of oleander vescott[present day]

"Oh my god!"

With an ear-splitting scream, Amberly turned around in an attempt to escape, when she tripped and fell, her head hitting one of the racks. She let out several subsequent wails with her eyes closed, filling the basement with an assortment of various cacophonous noises.

She clutched tightly onto her mobile phone for her dear life. Her heart thumped so wildly against her rib bones that she was sure that she would have a heart attack.

"Miss! Miss! What happened to you?"

Amberly froze in the middle of emitting a scream. The voice was humane and most certainly not of a spider. Mustering all her courage she raised her eyes, her heart still behaving like a drum being furiously beaten upon.

It was not a giant spider that stood in front of her. Rather, it was a tall old man with an overflowing silvery beard and large oval-shaped eyes that glinted in the dark. He hovered over her prostrate form, his bushy eyebrows quivering in worry. As for Amberly, she blushed a deep scarlet with embarrassment. Why did she think that this man was a spider?

"I am fine," she answered standing up. "And as for that matter, who are you? What are you doing in the basement?" she questioned, brushing off the dust from the pants she had been wearing.

"Is this not the archives?" The old man's eyes dilated. "Oh goodness, did that cleaner lie to me?" he proclaimed in a troubled voice.

"Um, it is. But we do not get visitors here," Amberly replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "And I can guess you understand why. I do not understand why you are here."

At this, the old man chuckled. "I am Oleander Vescott," he introduced himself. "I have come here to study the history of this town. I am a historian, you see." He gave her a wide grin, revealing a set of clean, white teeth.

"I am Amberly Wood, the library aide." She never took her eyes off the elderly historian. She could not fathom why anyone would come over to Andrasville and study its history. It was just a simple boring place without anything interesting happening at all. "And I am sorry for the scene I created earlier. I mistook you for something else in the dark." She added with a sheepish smile.

"Thought I was a ghost, didn't you Miss Wood?" Oleander laughed good-naturedly. "However, can you tell where I can get to read something about the town's past? Maybe some old newspapers?"

"That's exactly why I am here," Amberly said with a small almost inaudible sigh. "We have got a new librarian and she wants me to get a few historical stuff from the archives to, um, understand the town better. I was here to take them above to her."

"Wonderful, most wonderful!" Oleander exclaimed, excitedly. "Let me help you take those above. Then we both can study from those." He said, inching forwards toward the racks.

"Oh, thanks! Sure, that can be done!" Amberly clapped her hands in joy, relief washing over her. Now she would not have to walk back all through this basement all alone.

***

Yvaine's heels clicked sharply against the library floor, as she hurriedly made her way towards her seat.

Her handbag swung to and fro from her shoulder while the little black that she had found within the parcel was held tightly in her left hand. A determined look flushed from her face which was also reflected in her upright walk.

She had finally found something vital in regards to the disappearance of Wilhelmina Andras. The diary of Paisley Rose proved that it was she who had authored the message in the bottle, that she was the mysterious 'P R e'.

She was the one who knew where Wilhelmina Andras was and Yvaine hoped that reading her diary would provide much insight into the matter. Coupled with the newspaper articles she was certain they would be able to come to a summary of the situation.

The library was mostly empty that day. Only a few cleaners lurked in the hallways, wiping and dusting the floors. No visitors were present at that hour when Yvaine reached her seat. She was about to hop onto the chair and begin reading the diary when she spotted the dusty forms of Amberly Wood and an elderly man making their way towards her with a bunch of newspapers under their arms.

"Good morning, Miss Agan!" Amberly greeted her with a bright smile, stopping in front of Yvaine's table. "We've got all the newspapers for you. Now do tell me what is written in that message in the bottle?"

"Yes, sure I would," Yvaine felt a little awkward to say it in front of the beady-eyed man. Nonetheless, she played along. "And good morning to you too Miss Wood and..." she paused waiting for the man to introduce himself.

"This is Mr Oleander Vescott. He is a historian and has come to study the town's history," Amberly said instead. "I briefed him all about us finding that antique bottle the other day on our way up to the library."

"Oh, that's wonderful! Pleased to meet you Mr Vescott." Yvaine greeted politely, despite the scepticism she felt deep down. It would be after all pretty useful to have an actual historian looking into the matter, she reasoned.

"Pleased to meet you too, young lady," Oleander gave yet another of his toothy grins. "Now, do tell us all about the message you found. It is a most peculiar phenomenon you see."

"Yes, indeed it is." Yvaine nodded in agreement. "Now about the message. It was but a piece of a longer letter stating that the writer of the letter knows where this certain Wilhelmina Andras is and it is signed by the initials P R e and dated the tenth of January, 1882. Naturally, I did not know who Wilhelmina was---"

"Oh my god!" Oleander proclaimed suddenly, interrupting Yvaine, his eyes shining like that of a young child who had got a new toy. "The mysterious disappearance of Wilhelmina Andras is what brought me to this place, I am here especially because of that! And you say you found a part of a letter corresponding to it?"

"Yes and that is not the end," Yvaine smiled, pleased. "I have found the diary of the letter's writer and her identity." She said triumphantly, putting down the little black book on the top of her table.

"That is the most wonderful," Oleander mumbled, his eyes fixated upon the age-old diary. "I wonder what secrets this might reveal. Do open it, Miss Agan."

"Yes." With a burst of nervous laughter, Yvaine bent down to open the diary. A fluttery feeling of excitement rose in her belly while her fingers shook a little. Both Oleander and Amberly leaned down, faces aglow with anticipation. Taking in one deep breath, Yvaine pulled it open. And in an instant, the excitement turned into utter shock and disappointment.

The diary was empty.