Under the Dome by Fritz Arnson

“That’s the last of them”, I thought, as I stepped off the stool, leaving a decorative cobweb atop a bookshelf. I tried brushing my hands against each other, but the last bits of web residue were unwilling to leave my fingers. In fifteen minutes it was time to close down for the night, and then I could be a bit more thorough with the hand soap in the bathroom. It had been a quiet day today, and there were just a few readers and families left scattered throughout the building. Ordinarily, no new patrons came in after 8:30, so I was quite surprised when the door opened.

It was clear that the newcomer was a teenager, not only by the high school sweatshirt, but also by his patchy arrangement of facial hair. I remembered trying to grow out my beard (if you could even call it that) when I was seventeen, and my guess was that this young man was going down the same unfortunate path. Most high school age boys figure it out eventually.

Every year, the days predictably get shorter in the fall, though it keeps surprising me. I could tell that it was quite dark outside, as the moonlight fought with the lobby’s light sources. This created a strange, multipart shadow as the teen approached the desk. “I’d like to return these, and renew another one”, he murmured. He set down a book and a DVD. I was a bit puzzled, as I didn’t think high school students watched DVDs anymore, but Netflix can be mercurial with their movie selection as well. His account page showed the materials he was returning were due today, as well as one outstanding book, so I quickly renewed that one. The kid had good timing, coming in at the last second like this. “Cujo is due in two weeks, on November 8th. If you want to check anything else out, we close in ten minutes.” The line came out monotone, as if I were on autopilot. It had been a long day.

The teenager started browsing around, as I looked at the recently returned materials. Honestly, I was a bit upset that he returned a book, as I had just done a sweep of the returned books before putting up those decorations. There was time to put the book and the DVD back, so I quickly headed to the DVD section. S, T, U, V for Van Helsing. The combination of classic horror themes with modern action movie methods makes it one of my favorite Halloween season movies. My phone showed 8:53, so I had to put the book back and get to the lobby quickly.

My hands still stuck to the book, because of that disgusting cobweb. Next year, we should throw that thing out. Maybe we can do a workshop and have kids make some paper decorations? I don’t even know what material it’s made of. After prying my hand off the front cover, I saw it was a book about lunar cycles and how scientists of the past calculated it. As I reached up to put it back on the shelf, I noticed that the book had a common but unfortunate odor. Everyone’s pet dogs are much too curious and always get into their library books. Hopefully the dog scent goes away soon before the next patron wants to check it out. A few hairs even fell out as the book went into the shelf.

A crystal clear DING interrupted my thoughts on the gross dog hair. The bell had rung on the desk, so I briskly walked back to help whoever needed it. The teenager was there, with a book on anger management. He appeared really tense, even visibly shaking a bit. Some patrons feel embarrassed checking out something personal like this, but we’re just glad the books are getting to those who need them. The young patron grew more restless by the second, and when I was done checking out, he grabbed the book and ran out the door. I grabbed my jacket, and turned off the lobby lights, leaving only the moon to illuminate the marble floors. As I locked the front door, I faintly made out the teen’s sweatshirt and book discarded on the front lawn. That was when I heard the howl.

Under the Dome: In a Haunted Library by Juliana Tschanz

Twelve year old Alexi woke up to a bright sun ray shining into her room. She looked at her clock. It said 12:00. She couldn't believe she had slept so late!

"Alexi, are you awake yet? We are going to the library!" Mom yelled louder than ever into her room. This startled Alexi. Mom never yelled, and if she did, she definitely wouldn't yell in the house.

"Coming mom!" Alexi screamed back, even though she knew she shouldn't, hurrying to get dressed. The Lake Forest Library was her favorite place in the world.

"Excuse me, but I'm looking for a chapter book about pandas. Could someone help me?" she asked at the circular desk with three chairs for the librarians. She could have used a computer, but she wasn't that great with technology, and she didn't want to break something at her favorite place in the world.

The head librarian's name was Ms. Isenburg. She was very strict. Her assistants-Mrs. Webber and Mrs. Good-were the nicest people Alexi had ever met{and the nicest people in the world}. They were always so kind to her.

But no librarians were there. Alexi thought this was weird. Every librarian was always there. Even the librarians for the adult floors weren't there, and they were also always there. Now Alexi really thought this was weird.

"It depends." A vampire head popped out at her. "Will you let me suck your blood afterwards?" Alexi was so surprised and so scared at the same time, she froze where she was standing.

"VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE!" someone screamed, loud enough for the entire library to hear. "HIDE!"

Every kid ran to their parent and every parent tried to find a hiding spot for their child and themselves. Some people hid under the staircase by the video games. Some people ran to the secret spot by the cookbooks on the top floor. Others hid in the secret bench seats by the young adult books.

Alexi ran to get her mom and when she found her she mouthed 'be quiet' and her mom got the message and nodded back. Alexi ran to a hiding spot and her mom followed. They were as quiet as mice. Alexi was entirely in the hiding spot-a bathroom-when her mom rushed in behind her. A lot of other families were in there too. Someone had spread out blankets on the floor and everyone was whispering to each other.

Questions like: 'How long do you think we are going to be in here for?' were followed with answers like: 'I don't know' or '2 hours maybe.' Alexi soon noticed that there was a crack under the door and kept looking under it. About every 2 minutes, someone walked by saying "Come out, come out wherever you are!" in a loud, spooky, halloweenish voice.

Alexi counted how may times someone walked past."18111, 1112, 1113, 1114, 1115, 1116, 1117, 1118, 1119, 1120, 1121. I give up."

Suddenly they heard the sound of a key in the lock and the door creaked open. It was a vampire which was Ms. Isenburg, a skeleton which was Mr. Tab-who runs the adult floors, a zombie which was Mrs. Webber, and a witch who was Mrs. Good. Everyone screamed louder than a wolf howling at a full moon.

"Happy Halloween!" The monsters all chorused. Everyone burst out laughing!

"Lets go home!" someone said.

"No!" said Alexi. "Never!"

"That's right!" said Mrs. Webber and Mrs. Good at the exact same time. "We will never go home from books!" Everyone burst out laughing again!

It had been an exciting day under the dome in the Lake Forest Library.

Under the Dome by Ben Kras

T’was 11:58 at night,
And I was in the library
Returning a book
Being the good person that I like to be!

There wasn’t a single light or sound,
Nor a single person around
And with every step I took
I could hear myself creak loud

As I creaked up the steps to the table with my book,
I heard a very low noise, it made me very shook
It sounded like an old lady cackling
To hear this so late at night was very baffling

So I picked up the pace with what I was doing,
Returned the book quickly and quietly, and then I booked it
Down the stairs and into the first room that I saw
It had the word EXIT, and it couldn’t be a flaw

I reached the end of the hallway
Ran against the door, and pushed it out of my way
And I was free at last
I could go home and not worry about my past

While I was walking home,
I checked my phone,
To see what time it was
Something caught my eye, Halloween, no!

My least favorite holiday
I really like Christmas when the kids go out and play!
I hate it when kids say this while at my door,
“Sir or Madam, can we please have some more?”

I was almost at my house
When something was injected in me, quiet as a mouse,
The last thing I heard was, “Get him, girls.”
I’m pretty sure I was tranquilized, although I’m not too sure

I woke up tied to a table, and I looked around,
Noticed where I was,
Tried to scream, but it was
Muffled by the clowns

I understood my situation and was quiet as a gnome
This was it, I was surrounded under the dome.

Under the Dome by Kate Arnson

Stepping in from the damp night, you are greeted by the warm air just inside the entryway. The second set of doors sits open, leaving a clear view of the checkout desk. You head towards the familiar bustle of people settling down to study for the evening, but as you step across the threshold, you catch the rigid gaze of the flattened man holding a bow across his hips who lords over everybody under the dome.

The door swings shut behind you and you whip around to the breath of air against your neck that seems to whisper ‘..set..’ There is no one else in the lobby, and out the windows to the courtyard you only see the hunched gray tree with the dripping black leaves – you aren’t even allowed to enter that way anymore. There is a rustling at the head of the stairs, ‘go!’ So you run. Spinning to your right, toes over the first step of the other staircase. Your foot falling on the first step with the muffled thump of your canvas book bag hitting the floor of the lobby left in your bouncing shadow that stretched long against the ground from the light of the single chandelier in the stairwell.

The railing is smooth and your hand barely skims its surface, heels never quite touching the steps, but you feel like you can’t move fast enough. It just isn’t fair, they must have had a head start, and you never win these races anyway. Out of countless attempts – you on the right stair, him on the left – your brother always made it to the bottom first. This time, you are drawn down the steps far too quickly, it feels like your chest is ahead of your toes. The leaves tumble around you on the walls and your mother’s voice seems to trail down from the lobby, ‘Honey slow down. Don’t play on the stairs.’ You jump down the last couple of steps to the landing anyway, and start down the final stretch, heart pounding in time with your feet.

You swing around the final curve of the banister into the basement, head whipping around towards your left. There it is. Bathed in the dim light, that the pale stone altar, the drinking fountain. There is no one there. He isn’t there this time. You win.

Solemnly stepping up onto the wooden stepstool, you slide your hands along the endless parallel grooves cut into the cylindrical belly of the fountain. You think at any moment you’ll feel two hands clamp down on your shoulders, or that suddenly the stool will be kicked out from underneath you. You are not supposed to win.

You reach out a hand to turn on the spout and the thin trickle of water swirling into the slightly discolored basin echoes on the black walls of the niche, building up to a large booming laughter. It comes from everywhere at once and you think you recognize it but just as you begin to understand it somehow shifts and seems foreign again. The sound dances around, mocking. It seems silly to think that you could have won, and you shake your head roughly, trying in vain to clear it. Gasping, hands planted firmly on the rim of the fountain you bend your head down towards the bowl to drink.

Under the Dome by Zoë Floriana

“Are we all ready?” Mrs. Good said. Holding a book covered with a white silky cloth. “Are we all ready for the first Lake Forest Library Boogie Man Book Bash?” A series of yea!s and let’s go!s followed. The group of approximately twenty seven children were sitting on the cold, hard floor at the entrance of the adults’ section and the entrance to the whole Lake Forest Library itself. Including Mrs. Good sitting on one of the chairs that belonged to one of the tables located on either side. The parents, were standing near the tables or in the chairs that accompanied them, behind their children in front. “Ok,” Mrs. Good said, “Can anyone guess what spooky story we are going to read?”

Suddenly, before anyone could raise their hand, the lights went out with a click. They all turned to see Mrs. Rohrer standing near the light switch.

“It’s a scary story, of course we need the lights off!” She said gleefully. Around her there were murmurs of agreement. “Now continue.” Mrs. Rohrer said officially, and turned to talk to Mrs. Later who had brought her son, Theo, for the party.

A hand shot up, followed by many others. “Theo? Theo Later?”

“We can see through it!” exclaimed Theo in unison with a boy named Hale Owen sitting next to him. Hale O. Ween and Theo Later were best of the best friends.

“Oop! You can!” Mrs. Good said, laughing at the librarians’ mistake.

Yet another hand shot up. This time, it was a redhead with freckles and glasses.

“Yes Gladys, Nottmie?” Mrs. Good asked the bookworm.

“Well,” Gladys started, but she then adjusted her glasses and squinted through. “The book is called… Monster Moonlight Bash!”

“Yep!” Mrs. Good said, dramatically pulling back the silk cover and revealing the book. On the cover, there was an illustration of the back of a yeti or Sasquatch pulling back a pine tree to peer at a campsite.

“Ready?” Mrs. Good asked mysteriously.

“Yea! Whoo!”

“Okay. Monster Moonlight Bash, by Terri Fyde.”

Our story begins on a cold, dark, vast night;
in the
Deep
Dark
Woods.

The Deep Dark Woods was a place no one wanted to camp out. Legend has it, that creatures known as monsters really did exist! Vampires, witches, yetis, zombies, mummies, skeletons, unknown monsters - you name it! - were rumored to lurk in that forest. And the Monsterologist Dr. Quinn was the only one smart enough, (and brave enough) to test that theory. They picked a good night, the day before Halloween where most sightings, sounds, and other things occurred.

He stood at the black, creaky, worn gate, and gulped. With one shaking hand, Dr. Quinn unlocked the gate. He slipped on plastic blue surgeon gloves and carefully opened the gate. Quinn heard a moan, but couldn’t figure out where it came from. He noticed the trees around him grew thicker and so did the moss on the graves with every step.

Quinn stopped at a clearing to put on gear. Microphones, video cameras, and protective gear; all specialized for monsters.

“Vee vitches need twenty zix copies of Vorlocks Vanted and Vitches’ Vamily Brew.” Said a voice, coming from the front of the clearing. Quickly, Quinn hid in the trees just enough so he could see but The Voice could not. Suddenly, a witch in a black and green striped jumper with a fox tail attached to the back entered the clearing. She had frizzy red hair and at least had to be fifty. She had glow-in-the-dark fangs and long bears’ fingernails; and Quinn got it all recorded and on tape. Out behind her majestically and dramatically walked a vampire in mid-twenties. His cape billowed behind him and he regally looked at the witch.

“Bla, bla, bla. We vampires don’t care what you witches think. We’re certainly not wasting our treasures on magazines and cookbooks!” He said finally. His red pendant shone in the moonlight. “Shush! The others are coming!” He warned. Together they both ran to greet the monsters who hugged, or shook hands with them and made there way into separate groups of species.

And there, it happened all before Dr. Quinn's eyes. Gear and all. The ghosts gossiping about how much they would love to be a skeleton and admiring the card-playing skeletons’ Dia Los Meurtos dresses. The vampires having who-can-do-a-better-bat-transformation contests. The witches skimming magazines and teaching others some homemade potions. The mummies freshly rapping themselves. The zombies screwing in fresh bolts. The yetis giving each other haircuts. Yes. There, it all unfolded right in front of Dr. Quinn’s eyes and, well, mysteriously,

Nobody
Saw Him
Again.

The Scary End

All the children gasped. There were murmurs of comments on the story; like, “What?!?” and “That was so spooky!”

“How’d you like it?” Mrs. Good asked, closing the book. CLAP!! “I think that it was pretty spooky.” ‘Yea’s’ echoed through the entrance as the lights flickered back on. “See you the next time you come!” Mrs. Good concluded.

And They
Lived Happily
Ever After

The End