The Library of Labyrinths is a wondrous place. Every book ever written adorns their shelves, along with some that are yet to be conceived. It would take you years just to explore every wandering corridor, to climb every spiralling staircase, let alone read the volumes within. Every copy is maintained with the utmost care, whether they be thick leather-bound tomes, or tiny paperbacks that nearly disappear among their neighbours. Poetry and non-fiction are scattered among stories of great adventures, of wicked villains, spectacular worlds and fantastical creatures. Tales of tragedy and of comedy stand side by side, along with the simple accounts of quieter heroes. While most of the library is open to all visitors, there are some special books that are kept separately in different rooms. Books that whisper of forbidden knowledge, of histories best forgotten, of lands best left untouched, or of thoughts best left unformed. Dangerous traps for the unwary, appearing harmless until it’s far too late to escape. The librarians keep the doors to these rooms locked as a precaution, but it’s nearly impossible to keep such ideas caged. Every so often they find one of those doors unlatched and thrown open wide, like an invitation to explore what’s inside. No one has ever been seen leaving one of these rooms after they’ve been discovered open, but that doesn’t make the librarians feel any easier. Because just because no one left, doesn’t mean no one went in. Entry for the Writers Contest