Chapters 2: Jars of Questionable Origin
There was no official protocol for what to do when a misfiled breath jar began muttering the lyrics to forgotten sitcom theme songs.
But Lexi, being Lexi, improvised.
She slid the jar back into its slot, labeled it “??? (Contains Vibes)”, and left a passive-aggressive sticky note for her co-archivist:
“Maybe try cataloging with your eyes open next time, R’thax.”
The truth was, Lexi had bigger problems than a haunted sitcom whisper. Since uncorking The Suspended One, things had gone… off.
- The time crystal above the main atrium had reversed just enough to bring back last week’s mold problem.
- The library’s coffee machine now only dispensed emotional backstory. (“I don’t want to feel abandonment at 8 a.m.,” she told it. “Just espresso.”)
- And the intern—Jexi—wasn’t handling things well.
She kept showing up late, mumbling in iambic pentameter, and reeking of cheap stage fog.
“I was a star once,” Jexi told the break room sink. “They called me the lungs of Luna Eight.”
Lexi suspected possession. Or possibly method acting. Either way, it was above her pay grade.
Which was unfortunate, because Lexi didn’t get paid.
She sighed (carefully—nothing left uncorked around here), pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and activated the Breath Tracking Console™, a temperamental relic that required a blood sacrifice and two compliments before booting.
“You’re doing great,” she whispered.
“Your fonts are so legible.”
The screen flickered to life, emitting a noise not unlike a sarcastic inhalation.
She typed:
QUERY: ORIGIN OF BREATH ID: #S-000-000-000-000-001
Result: UNKNOWN
Possible Source: Nonstandard Dimensional Layer
Emotive Profile: Suspicion, Regret, Mild Horniness
Playback Risk Level: (DO NOT PLAY WITHOUT SUPERVISION OR A SCENTED CANDLE)
“Perfect,” Lexi muttered. “It’s horny and regretful. My least favorite combination.”
Just then, the jar glowed.
Not metaphorically. Not ominously.
Like, pulsing to the beat of a 90s slow jam.
From somewhere in the stacks, Jexi began to hum. Her voice echoed, layered, full of static. And something—someone?—hummed with her.
Lexi didn’t breathe.
Not because she was scared.
But because in this place, even breathing had consequences.
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