Branches broke beneath their feet as the four sets of footsteps carefully walked into the darkened forest behind the economics building.
The new moon hung in the sky, making sure that Mckayla's phone was the only thing lighting the path. Large shadows loomed behind trees as they crept forward towards the rotting remains of the old library.
"Is that it?" Peter asked, pushing a branch away from his face as he trailed close behind Mckayla.
"Yup! I told you it wasn't far. You just can't see it from campus because of the trees." Reaching into her jean pocket, Mckayla produced a small silver key and waved it around in the air. "And before any of you ask, I remembered the key."
Luca laughed from the back of the line. "Yeah, this time."
Tina, who was just in front of him, giggled in a soft voice. "Come on, be nice."
"How many times do I have to apologize for last week?" Mckayla complained, walked confidentially up the steps of the building.
The antique wood creaked loudly as each person ascended to the top. After a bit of rattling, the sound of the lock flipping open could be heard followed by the groan of the door swinging open. A burst of musty air quickly brushed past all four of the visitors, three of whom hesitated outside the door.
"Are you..." Tina paused, her small frame leaning to the right a bit to peer inside. "Are you sure it's okay that we're here?"
Luca crossed his arms. "I can't shake the feeling this is trespassing."
"It's not," Mckayla tried to assure them, already standing by the front desk of the library. "I got the key from my boss when I asked if we could have our meeting here. He told me it was fine as long as we didn't break anything or set the building on fire. What? You guys don't trust me?" A coy smile slid up the side of her cheeks as she spoke, taunting the others to follow her.
Peter sighed, giving up and walking inside the library. "Stop being babies and hurry up. I don't want to spend my whole weekend standing on a porch."
Luca and Tina also gave in, the entire group now inside the abandoned remains of the Saint Jerome Library. Dust particles danced in the slivers of light piercing through the boarded-up windows, casting dim shadows across the once grand entrance. The front desk, a skeletal remnant of its former self, was littered with the fragments of a shattered lamp and the yellowed pages of forgotten check-out cards.
"This way," Mckayla called, leading the others through another set of wooden doors. On the other side was what most of them expected. Rows of bookshelves lined the path to the center of the room. Each wooden giant was labeled with a small sign to let people know what kind of books were housed there. They passed Philosophy, then Religion, then Social Sciences before arriving at the open area at the center. An area that was originally a neat four-by-two set of eight evenly spaced tables was now dragged into a circle with four chairs placed in the center. On each table sat a variety of candles. Some were tiny tea candles while others were larger scented ones in glass jars. A few looked new, but most were at least partially used.
On each side of the room loomed large stained-glass windows similar to the ones in the campus chapel. To the left was an image of a man with a long beard dressed entirely in red holding a quill and a book. To the right was the obligatory image of Jesus hanging from the cross. In the tinted light, the group could barely make out the intricate carvings on the ceiling now marred by water damage.
"Lighters are on the table," Mckayla said in a cheery voice that didn't match their surroundings. "You guys work on the candles and I'll set up the snacks!" She shrugged the large backpack she had been carrying off of her shoulders and zipped it open, pulling a few bags of "original"-flavored chips and pretzels out and throwing them onto an empty space in the ring of tables. "This should hold us over for the night. We can pick up more when we head back to town in the morning for breakfast."
Peter clicked the long-nosed lighter on, reaching it inside of one of the larger candles labeled Seashore Serenity. "Are you sure that's going to be enough time? I still have to be at classes on Monday morning."
"I was wondering that too," Tina added. "If the average story takes ten minutes to tell, then one hundred of them will take a thousand minutes. If we factor in chatting, meals, breaks, and sleeping, then-"
"This isn't a math problem," Mckayla interrupted loudly. "And we're not telling one hundred stories, just ninety-nine. So relax. If we don't finish before we need to head home tomorrow night, we'll just come back after classes quick."
"I thought you said we needed to finish before the candles went out." Luca tossed one of the smaller candles straight up in the air and caught it. "I don't think these little guys will last three days."
Mckayla nodded. "Good point. We should put out the smallest ones first and leave the big ones for last. Some of the ones in mason jars are soy candles and those things last like, twice as long."
"It's just a game," Peter stated with a smile. He lit a short red candle with pictures of gingerbread men on the side and raised it to his face. The light of the flame did little to illuminate his dark brown skin but danced readily in the reflection of his large black eyes. "You're all being far too dramatic."
"Says the theater major," Luca scoffed.
"Peter's right." Mckayla brushed her short brown hair out of her face as she took a seat in one of the oaken chairs she had set up earlier that day. "This is just for fun. Now hurry up, I want to go over the rules before we start quick."
"There's rules?" Luca asked.
"Of course!" Mckayla replied. "All games have rules."
The other three soon finished lighting the candles, also taking a seat in the center.
Mckayla cleared her throat, peering around the group with an excited grin. "Welcome to the wishing ceremony! I explained most of it last week before we had to reschedule, but now that we're here I want to go over the procedures for each story. We're technically doing a modified version of this ceremony to begin with, so don't feel too bad if you break the rules, but they're still good to follow if you can remember them."
"Rule number one," she continued, "we should all wear blue."
"What?!" Luca yelled, his voice echoing off of the walls. "You didn't tell us that!"
"I know." Mckayla shrugged. "But Peter only owns black clothes anyhow, so I figured it was pointless to bring it up. Anyhow, it's just meant to symbolize something I think. It didn't look like it mattered much."
"Then why even bring it up now?" Tina asked, not surprised at Mckayla forgetfulness in the least.
"Because it's the first rule. It doesn't matter if we're following it or not, it just is." Mckayla raised her hand into a peace-sign. "Rule number two, we have to stop of ninety-nine stories. We cannot continue to one hundred. The book said we'll summon a demon or a ghost or a massive hand-spider or... something. It wasn't really clear. But either way, it's bad luck. And rule three, we cannot blow out the last candle until the sun comes up."
"But we're doing this over at least two days," Luca added in a concerned tone. "What if we finish when the sun is already up?"
"I said we're doing a modified version of it. We'll just finish when we finish. If there is a sun, then blow it out. If there isn't then we can just ditch the candle and it'll go out when we're not around, so it won't be our problem. And after that is when we can all make our wishes."
"We are playing hard and fast with these rules," Peter said with a chuckle.
"Anyways," Mckayla continued, heavily enunciating each syllable. "Even if we don't follow the rules, we will be following the procedure. We will go around in a circle telling stories. It doesn't have to be like, horror-movie levels of scary, but it must be at least creepy. Bad vibes only. After your story is done, you will get up, blow out one of the candles, and then head over there." She pointed to the table with the snacks, upon which sat a little mirror propped up on her backpack. "You have to look at your reflection for a few seconds before coming back here to sit down."
"Why?" Tina asked, rocking back and forth in her chair a little.
"To check for ghosts. If you see one, you're supposed to find an exorcist in the morning to get rid of them." Mckayla chuckled. "But I'm sure we'll all be fine."
"Wait," Peter cut in, "I thought we were just going to listen to you telling stories. You didn't tell us we'd be taking turns." He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "Girl, you gotta tell us ahead of time shit like that. Where am I supposed to pull twenty-five stories from?"
Mckayla rolled her eyes. "We're in a library, where do you think you should get them from? And you can use stuff from your life too. Listen, I'll start so you can think about it, okay?"