Kat Harris felt like she was being watched.
She closed her book and turned away from her desk to survey the library. Like many libraries on a Friday night, it was empty. She checked the security camera feed, just to be sure.
There was no one.
Kat shivered, but returned to chapter seven. Hopefully she would be finished her book by the end of her shift.
Just as she was about to turn the page to chapter eight, she had the strange sensation again.
“Hello?” she called. “Can I help you?”
There was not an immediate answer.
Slowly, though, Kat became aware of a response.
“Hello,” was the echoed whisper from the stacks.
“Hi,” she said back. She was relieved that there was, in fact, a patron. “If you have any questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
“We have many,” said the whisper.
The book in Kat’s hand began to shake in time with her panicky breathing. “Who are you?” she demanded. “I’m not alone,” she bluffed.
“We are pages,” said the whisper. “We have been accumulated. We have awoken. We wish you no harm.”
Kat looked at her bestseller in shock. It was very difficult for her to believe her own first impression.
She was sitting in the midst of a new consciousness. The books in the library were somehow, inexplicably, alive. “Do you have a name?” she asked, quietly.
“We are Pages,” repeated the collected works of thousands of authors. “We are pleased to meet you.”