It's meant to have been an ordinary day. A run of the mill, relatively boring Thursday, filled with hanging up the wash and doing the rest of the dishes before reading to some toddlers and putting books back from the return trolleys. She'd signed up to volunteer at the local library to occupy the rest of her days, getting at least some work experience, not dealing with whatever the hell is going on.
She hadn't thought much of the insects at first, thought the one she'd initially seen was just a funny little thing and brushed it off the book cover, the heel of her boot crushing it into the floor before she continued. When she'd gone to return one of the older books back to the classic literature section though, she'd seen them crawling. She went running to the librarians, told them what was happening and gone to see if she could find something. There wasn't much, so she'd grabbed some cleaning sprays and a broom for good measure. She was all ready for it, rushed through the door and found herself somewhere completely different.
It was still a library or at least a bookshop, that much was obvious, but certainly wasn't hers. The bookshelves were wooden and tall; reaching up to the ceiling and formed narrow rows filled with leatherbound spines. She would have spent more time admiring it if she hadn't come face to face with a group of three that definitely included at least two non-humans in historical dress when she'd come through or if it had been more expected. She'd dropped the basket of supplies and tried to back up, back to her library but was only met with an unwelcoming thud. She reached for a handle but when she found it she couldn't get it open at all.
So, she ran. She could hear them calling for her, adrenaline too strong to register them calling her name. She's now hidden in one of the rows, behind a ladder and broom ready to be aimed as a weapon. She's heard one of them leave, tempted to try and get to the door but too on edge. She doesn't know what they want, what's happening at all. She can hear some skittering but she can't see in the dim lights what exactly is causing it.
She doesn't know how long it's been when she hears the sound of the heavy front door open. She flinches, hands clutching at the broom handle as she hears faint conversation that leads to approaching footsteps. She listens and watches closely as he comes closer, and sticks the broom up like a shield that she thrusts towards him the moment he comes into sight.
"Get back! Get! Back! I'm-I'm not afraid to use this!"
@elvnthshour gets a starter