Side Story 13 Junior X Demon

The basement of the library was cold, damp, and smelled of mildew. Junior hated coming down here, but the head librarian had insisted. "There's an old manuscript that needs cataloging," she'd said, shoving a dusty crate into his arms without ceremony. Junior sighed, adjusting his grip on it as he descended the creaky wooden stairs. The dim overhead light flickered, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls.

He set the crate down on a rickety table, wiping the dust off with the sleeve of his sweater. The books inside were ancient, their spines cracked and faded. Most were unremarkable—old textbooks, ledgers, and the like—but one stood out. It was bound in deep, cracked leather, the cover embossed with intricate, swirling symbols that seemed to shift under his gaze. There was no title, no author's name, just a strange energy that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.