Above: Microbe Empire, courtesy of the Biology Department

Sitting on a bed in the Health Center there is a shell that used to be a man. His name is Mike Calverton ‘20 and he has been here for four days. With special permission, The Yowl has been allowed to hear his story. 

“I’d never been to base libs before. I’d heard the stories of course: dead faces that peek at you from around corners, endless shelves where the unwary get lost for days, corners so devoid of natural light that they host creatures usually only seen around oceanic vents. I thought those were just the delusions of sleep deprived, Ritalin-addled sophomores.”

Calverton’s face contorts with fear, as though the memory itself is clawing at his skull. “I’d just sat down and got my laptop out. I looked up and… the book was there. I thought I misread it at first, it couldn’t say what I thought it said. When I looked closer it was unmistakable, Social Relations and the Role of Women in the Late Dynasty of Atlantis.”

“I didn’t understand, that couldn’t be real right?” Calverton picked the book off the shelf and opened it up. Inside was a comprehensive study of gender relations that, while well sourced, somewhat sacrificed readability to get across its more cerebral arguments.

Calverton stated that among the shelves of lost knowledge sat The Complete Works of Socrates, The Wacky Misadventures of Genghis Khan: An Autobiography, and his lost eighth-grade science report. 

Endless shelves of knowledge, each book more enigmatic than the last. “I stumbled down the halls, and every time I leaned on a shelf for the support I saw something new. Eventually, the titles didn’t make sense anymore, Heuristics of Conservation in Dying Nashings, Blood Walls and Blood Doors: Gardeners Tips for Cool Moms. The titles started to amount to nothing more than guttural screams, faithfully transliterated into hardback.”

When asked why they never revealed the existence of the existential library where even a fraction of the knowledge contained would tear the soul from the body like pulling the legs of a fly, a librarian told The Yowl, “no one ever asked.”