Encounterlogs
Joels Odd Encounter Sr Lilah 240301
The tale unfolds in the northern shelves of the White Oak library, where Joel, engaged in his research among the weathered spines of ancient tomes, encounters a peculiar phenomenon: books that flip open and pages that turn of their own accord, revealing unsettling content about dreams and death. As he delves deeper into the mystery, instigated by restless spirits manifesting peculiar happenings, Joel finds himself confronting a haunting image of a skeletal figure named Emily Montague, ensnared in a dream in 1765. Further eerie occurrences lead him to discover other tales of inexplicable dream-induced deteriorations, with books seeking to communicate through ominous messages shaped by the movements of his pen. Strange visions of fire consuming the library are shared with Gabriella, a witness to the ensuing chaos, as they stumble upon a cryptic warning about dreams causing mass death.
In an attempt to escape the nightmarish visions that have consumed the library and, paradoxically, their own bodies, Joel and Gabriella find themselves running towards what appears to be a doorway amidst the flames – a last-ditch effort spurred by the hope of finding an exit from this surreal ordeal. Miraculously, they emerge back in the library, seemingly unscathed and restored to their original states, only to be greeted by a message that confirms their worst fears: "Dreams are causing mass death." The resolution leaves them both in the library, pondering the cryptic warning left behind by the spirits, a chilling reminder of the enigmatic link between dreams and mortality that they had just endured, encapsulated in a chilling tale of supernatural happenings at the White Oak library.
(Joel's odd encounter(SRLilah):SRLilah)
[Thu Feb 22 2024]
In the northern shelves
Rows of towering bookcases stand sentry here, their intricate wooden carvings and ornate designs adding an air of scholarly reverence to the expansive space. Soft, diffused lighting bathes the area in a warm, inviting glow, casting delicate shadows that dance along the weathered spines of the aging tomes and well-preserved manuscripts. The faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood mingles with the subtle aroma of leather bindings, creating a rich olfactory atmosphere.
It is morning, about 24F(-4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(A group of restless spirits have taken over the local library, causing havoc and frightening the townsfolk. Your target and their allies are tasked with calming the spirits and finding a way to send them to the afterlife. The encounter could involve researching ancient texts and using forgotten rituals to put the spirits to rest.)
It's a nice enough day for so late in the winter, with the pale sun gleaming in through the stacks where Joel does his research. Whatever he's looking for, there's few places better than the White Oak library to find it! The place is quiet, mostly at least, except for the rustle of Joel's pages and a the movements of a few other, early morning studiers.
Joel has found a small table tucked away between a few bookshelves to do his studying at. A few books are spread out in front of him, most of them about dreams of some kind. He has a notepad in front of him and is currenlty jotting down a list of other book titles he has come across in one of the works--but there's an air of weariness about him, suggesting this pre-digital form of research is not entirely in his wheelhouse.
As Joel turns from the books to start jotting down notes, one of the books flips itself open. The pages rustle and turn, until they land on a page that is headed: Dreams and Death. Nothing macabre or concerning about that, surely! Soon after, another book slides itself right off of the heap and flips open as it tumbles. At least this one doesn't start rustling pages all on its own!
Death is often a theme in dreams, the text reads, if Joel happens to glance at it. And for eons, philosophers, scientists, and lay-dreamers alike have wondered what would happen if a person were to truly meet their death within a dream. Dreamworlds themselves offer a glimpse into this, but are these other-worlds truly dreams, to begin with?
Joel blinks a little, shying to the side as the book falls down. He stares down at it for a moment, scanning the text almost without meaning to. "O...kay" he murmurs, uncertaintly. Slowly bending down, he picks the book up and sets it back down on the table, glancing around the empty aisles of the shelves.
Studies on sleepers, coma victims, and others have begun to unravel the differences between true sleep and dreams, and the worlds which dreamers themselves can create. And there are differences, though they are minute enough that many might not realize it. As Joel's eyes skim the page, it flips on its own, revealing a picture on the next page. This picture is as macabre as the writings previously, perhaps made even worse for what it portrays.
On a bed, propped up by pillows, a young woman lays with her eyes shut and what looks to be a rictus grin on her face. Her cheeks are sunken, her eyes hollows in her face, and her skin seems to hang from nothing but bones. Her hands, where they rest atop the blanket are equally skeletal. Beneath, a caption reads: Emily Montague - a dreamer ensnared. 1765.
Joel starts as he sees the page flip, again glancing around for a moment "Uh, hello?" he calls out, morei n the hope some human presence might be near to help. But the library is always so damn quiet. He glances back at the image then, slowly stepping closer to study the image, a frown deepening on his face. He looks up from the book, gazing at the empty air in front of him and murmuring, tentatively "...Emily?"
If this is the Emily of the drawing, it would seem that perhaps she's no longer ensnared. Or perhaps it isn't her at all. But the page rustles, then drops back, without turning further this time, almost as if something or someone really wants Joel to look at that image, to drink it in in all its terrifying simplicity.
His pen twitches, either in his hand if he holds it still, or on the table if he does not. Then it twitches again. In almost ouija board fashion, it appears to be shaping a letter N with the twists and shifts its made.
Joel blinks and starts again, watching in fascination as his hand seems to be dragged along to draw the letter. "...no?" he ventures, eyes flickering between the notepad and the image in the book. "Then who are you?"
Once more the pages rustle, back to the first of the two pages that Joel had been shown. The pen slides, with Joel's hand attached, to thump against the title of the section. Death and Dreams. It thumps twice on the two key words, then goes slack as all pressure is released from the small device.
All goes still.
It doesn't last long though, before another book's pages begin to rustle - it's the one that Joel had to pick up off the floor. It opens to another page, another image, this one a photograph, though in sepia tones and clearly old. It shows rows of hospital-like beds, each holding a person in various states of starvation and deterioration, but all looking to be smiling as they lay in their beds. The caption on this one reads: A strange epidemic of unconsciousness sweeps through the small Russian village of Suzdal - 1910.
Joel exhales deeply, a faint shiver running down his spine "You died in a dream?" he asks, uncertainly, even as he watches the book flicker to the new page. He flinches a little at the photos his gaze trails over, squaring his shoulders as he asks more firmly "What do you want? What do you need?"
This time the answer doesn't come from Joel's chosen books. Another from a stack in a different area of the space flies off of the shelf and - depending on how good is reflexes are - either hits the poor young man in the had, or is caught. The Destruction of Witchcraft this one reads, and the moment the book touches the islander's skin, everything changes.
Behind his eyes, everything takes on a reddish hue, as if staring through a fire. It flickers, and soon enough those tongues of flame can be seen roaring up the stacks, flowing over the table like a river of heat, destroying the books he's researching from, destroying the shelves he's found them on.
It's not real. Gabriella won't see any of that, if she happens to come into this section of the library, of course - except perhaps for the book that flies at Joel out of nowhere. Perhaps that is what lures her in.
Gabriella hasn't seen anything - not even books flying. She will probably see and hear Joel's reaction to it, however, as she is turning the corner into the northern shelves area where Joel is. She's looking at the shelves - so one can assume she is coming here in search for a book.
Joel cries out loudly as the book smacks against his head out of nowhere. He staggers forward, leaning over the table he was apparently just studying at. He cries out loudly, a look of panic in his eyes as he stumbles back, turning wide-eyes toward Gabriella. "Fire! Everyone get out of here!" he screams, as he tries to run for the exit.
Gabriella reaches for Joel, not to follow him and run but to stop and hold him, while asking "wait- what- where?" She glances again just to be sure, but really, she sees no fire, no smoke - and certainly not an ammount of it that would make her run out of the building instead of putting it down.
Of course, Joel's cry is enough to cause the few people in the library at this time of day, when classes should keep most of the busy, to panic too. Books are left laying around as people scatter, some remembering their backpacks, others forgetting even their phones. As the young man at the center of this mess cries out in his panic, however, a book slides off the table and under one foot, deliberately tripping him in his dash for the door.
Behind Joel's eyes, the flames surge up, higher than ever. In his fear, he might not realize it at first, but there's a distinct lack of heat. The books curl and singe and burn, and bits of paper fly on the heat currents that he cannot feel.
And then Gabriella is reaching for him. Skin contact is all it takes, and that vision transfers to her, as well. Every book, in any way about dreams at all, seems to be burning, an inferno tearing through them all.
Joel stumbles as Gabriella touches him, eyes wide in terror and shock--and then he pauses, looking around the raging inferno. "It's... it's cold..." he murmurs in utter surprise, clearly trying to figure out what to make of the information. "The hell's going on?"
"Fuck" Gabriella exclaims as flames lick then erupt from books, even if she does not seem to realize that there's something off about how Joel could see them before she did. Or maybe she does, as she leans down to try to help Joel up and run with him out of here, while asking Joel "did you do that?" She realizes at Joel's comment that he's right, it's not hot, but she's not lingering to find out why don't these flames heat the area, she's trying to take Joel out of here, while asking "not you, then?"
Joel shakes his head "There were...books. About people dying in their dreams. They seemed to want to show me something, and then suddenly--" he gestures wildly at the cold flames, even as he steps back toward the door.
Perhaps it's Hell indeed. The flames rage and every book burns, until there's only tiny wisps of charred paper left. A word, here and there can be made out. are is one of them. death another, and dreams from the title of the first page remains. A few others include causing, and mass. It wouldn't really be hard to put it all together to understand what's being said, except that as those papers are falling, a sharp ember pops off a shelf and lands in Gabriella's hair.
As Joel explains to the girl, it seems like her body becomes wreathed in an aura of fire. Though she feels no pain, it will take only moments, before Joel is looking at a skeletal, almost lifeless body, wreathed in copper hair and fire - not burning, not burning at all, but looking as lost as the people in those pictures had.
Joel stares at the fluttering pieces of paper "Dreams are causing mass death" he mutters softly. "Jesus Christ. How, though? What dreams? How do we..." then Gabriella bursts into flame before him, eyes widening in terror. For a moment he just stand there, rooted to the spot, loss and guilt and fear taking him over. Then he blinks, taking a sharp breath. He reaches out, trying to grab the wraith-like girl by the showers and shake her, calling out "I think /we're/ dreaming! We have to wake up!"
"What?" Gabriella asks Joel, confused with all that while still trying to drag him and herself get away from the flames she sees consuming the bookshelves.
Gabriella then screams - as fire catches on her hair. She tries to put it down, but it is all too fast - she's burnt to death... only she doesn't feel it - the panic isn't matched with heat, or pain, or anything. She ends up watching her clothes being consumed, her arms turn into a skeleton... but she does so without feeling any of it, astonished. It all stops as Joel shakes her, and that she feels- being shaken. "What! Yes- maybe we are!" she reacts to his words, trying to act and do something about it - she pinches his arm like she has seen in silly movies and read in children books about how to make sure if this is a dream...
Gabriella pinches Joel arm.
Joel closes hsi eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to find that sensation of stumbling, or jarring awake, that normalls comes when one knows one is dreaming.
And then the same seems to happen to Joel, though more slowly. As his mouth reads the words that whatever this creature is has been trying to get across, his skin tightens, flesh dissipating until he's nothing but a dessicated version of himself, as well. It's when he tries to warn Gabriella that everything goes haywire. The flames roar louder. The unburned books from different sections start to fly from the shelves at the two students, pelting them from all directions.
Is it a dream? If so, then enough focus of will alone should be enough to open some sort of doorway out, right?
But to get to the rest of the library, one would have to pass through row upon row of burning bookshelves...
"No!" Gabriella cries out as she sees Joel burning in flames, but, just like her, he doesn't die for it, or even suffer, it seems. "Come- I'm not going to wait here, we need to find a way out, no matter if this is a dream or something else! We're not feeling the flames and we're burnt anyway so... let's just go!" she decides for both, and reaches for one of Joel's arm bones, pulling and trying to drag him out.
Joel opens his eyes, looking at his hand in something like sick fascination as it turns into a blackened skeletal form. He turns his head toward Gabriella, and then toward the burning shelves. He takes a deep breath (with what, one might wonder?) and, needing this to not be real, he gives a curt nod, starting to run toward the exit at Gabriella's side, heedless of the obstacles.
As Gabriella and Joel start to try and truly focus, there's no jarring sense of coming awake. But the flames do seem to shimmer in one small area of the library, where they're the thickest. If anything, it looks like a door might be there, in the depths of them. Has whatever is trying to get this message across finally decided its done all it can? Or have they outwitted it?
Gabriella isn't as interested in understanding any message than she is in getting out of here, of confirming that this is a dream... be again an unburnt person. The temptation of heading away from the ticker is great, but if it is a door... Gabriella hesitates and asks Joel "let's try that way?", delegating the decision to him.
Joel tares at the shimmering light, hesitating for a moment. But he squares his shoulders and nods, deciding to risk it all as he heads for it, glancing back to make sure Gabriella follows along, hard though it is to look at her.
Joel steps through. Does Gabriella follow? If so, they'll find themselves not at home in their beds, but back in the library again. For a moment, it might feel like deja vu, or like some strange form of trickery in which they're right back where they started. But then...
The books are whole and unburned, left on the stacks and piled on the table. Gabriella is whole, the dessicated frame of her body no longer so. Joel, in much the same way, seems healthy again. But there, on the wall, in a spidery ancient looking script is a message still: Dreams are causing mass death.
Fun.
In an attempt to escape the nightmarish visions that have consumed the library and, paradoxically, their own bodies, Joel and Gabriella find themselves running towards what appears to be a doorway amidst the flames – a last-ditch effort spurred by the hope of finding an exit from this surreal ordeal. Miraculously, they emerge back in the library, seemingly unscathed and restored to their original states, only to be greeted by a message that confirms their worst fears: "Dreams are causing mass death." The resolution leaves them both in the library, pondering the cryptic warning left behind by the spirits, a chilling reminder of the enigmatic link between dreams and mortality that they had just endured, encapsulated in a chilling tale of supernatural happenings at the White Oak library.
(Joel's odd encounter(SRLilah):SRLilah)
[Thu Feb 22 2024]
In the northern shelves
Rows of towering bookcases stand sentry here, their intricate wooden carvings and ornate designs adding an air of scholarly reverence to the expansive space. Soft, diffused lighting bathes the area in a warm, inviting glow, casting delicate shadows that dance along the weathered spines of the aging tomes and well-preserved manuscripts. The faint scent of aged parchment and polished wood mingles with the subtle aroma of leather bindings, creating a rich olfactory atmosphere.
It is morning, about 24F(-4C) degrees, and there are a few dark grey stormclouds in the sky.
(A group of restless spirits have taken over the local library, causing havoc and frightening the townsfolk. Your target and their allies are tasked with calming the spirits and finding a way to send them to the afterlife. The encounter could involve researching ancient texts and using forgotten rituals to put the spirits to rest.)
It's a nice enough day for so late in the winter, with the pale sun gleaming in through the stacks where Joel does his research. Whatever he's looking for, there's few places better than the White Oak library to find it! The place is quiet, mostly at least, except for the rustle of Joel's pages and a the movements of a few other, early morning studiers.
Joel has found a small table tucked away between a few bookshelves to do his studying at. A few books are spread out in front of him, most of them about dreams of some kind. He has a notepad in front of him and is currenlty jotting down a list of other book titles he has come across in one of the works--but there's an air of weariness about him, suggesting this pre-digital form of research is not entirely in his wheelhouse.
As Joel turns from the books to start jotting down notes, one of the books flips itself open. The pages rustle and turn, until they land on a page that is headed: Dreams and Death. Nothing macabre or concerning about that, surely! Soon after, another book slides itself right off of the heap and flips open as it tumbles. At least this one doesn't start rustling pages all on its own!
Death is often a theme in dreams, the text reads, if Joel happens to glance at it. And for eons, philosophers, scientists, and lay-dreamers alike have wondered what would happen if a person were to truly meet their death within a dream. Dreamworlds themselves offer a glimpse into this, but are these other-worlds truly dreams, to begin with?
Joel blinks a little, shying to the side as the book falls down. He stares down at it for a moment, scanning the text almost without meaning to. "O...kay" he murmurs, uncertaintly. Slowly bending down, he picks the book up and sets it back down on the table, glancing around the empty aisles of the shelves.
Studies on sleepers, coma victims, and others have begun to unravel the differences between true sleep and dreams, and the worlds which dreamers themselves can create. And there are differences, though they are minute enough that many might not realize it. As Joel's eyes skim the page, it flips on its own, revealing a picture on the next page. This picture is as macabre as the writings previously, perhaps made even worse for what it portrays.
On a bed, propped up by pillows, a young woman lays with her eyes shut and what looks to be a rictus grin on her face. Her cheeks are sunken, her eyes hollows in her face, and her skin seems to hang from nothing but bones. Her hands, where they rest atop the blanket are equally skeletal. Beneath, a caption reads: Emily Montague - a dreamer ensnared. 1765.
Joel starts as he sees the page flip, again glancing around for a moment "Uh, hello?" he calls out, morei n the hope some human presence might be near to help. But the library is always so damn quiet. He glances back at the image then, slowly stepping closer to study the image, a frown deepening on his face. He looks up from the book, gazing at the empty air in front of him and murmuring, tentatively "...Emily?"
If this is the Emily of the drawing, it would seem that perhaps she's no longer ensnared. Or perhaps it isn't her at all. But the page rustles, then drops back, without turning further this time, almost as if something or someone really wants Joel to look at that image, to drink it in in all its terrifying simplicity.
His pen twitches, either in his hand if he holds it still, or on the table if he does not. Then it twitches again. In almost ouija board fashion, it appears to be shaping a letter N with the twists and shifts its made.
Joel blinks and starts again, watching in fascination as his hand seems to be dragged along to draw the letter. "...no?" he ventures, eyes flickering between the notepad and the image in the book. "Then who are you?"
Once more the pages rustle, back to the first of the two pages that Joel had been shown. The pen slides, with Joel's hand attached, to thump against the title of the section. Death and Dreams. It thumps twice on the two key words, then goes slack as all pressure is released from the small device.
All goes still.
It doesn't last long though, before another book's pages begin to rustle - it's the one that Joel had to pick up off the floor. It opens to another page, another image, this one a photograph, though in sepia tones and clearly old. It shows rows of hospital-like beds, each holding a person in various states of starvation and deterioration, but all looking to be smiling as they lay in their beds. The caption on this one reads: A strange epidemic of unconsciousness sweeps through the small Russian village of Suzdal - 1910.
Joel exhales deeply, a faint shiver running down his spine "You died in a dream?" he asks, uncertainly, even as he watches the book flicker to the new page. He flinches a little at the photos his gaze trails over, squaring his shoulders as he asks more firmly "What do you want? What do you need?"
This time the answer doesn't come from Joel's chosen books. Another from a stack in a different area of the space flies off of the shelf and - depending on how good is reflexes are - either hits the poor young man in the had, or is caught. The Destruction of Witchcraft this one reads, and the moment the book touches the islander's skin, everything changes.
Behind his eyes, everything takes on a reddish hue, as if staring through a fire. It flickers, and soon enough those tongues of flame can be seen roaring up the stacks, flowing over the table like a river of heat, destroying the books he's researching from, destroying the shelves he's found them on.
It's not real. Gabriella won't see any of that, if she happens to come into this section of the library, of course - except perhaps for the book that flies at Joel out of nowhere. Perhaps that is what lures her in.
Gabriella hasn't seen anything - not even books flying. She will probably see and hear Joel's reaction to it, however, as she is turning the corner into the northern shelves area where Joel is. She's looking at the shelves - so one can assume she is coming here in search for a book.
Joel cries out loudly as the book smacks against his head out of nowhere. He staggers forward, leaning over the table he was apparently just studying at. He cries out loudly, a look of panic in his eyes as he stumbles back, turning wide-eyes toward Gabriella. "Fire! Everyone get out of here!" he screams, as he tries to run for the exit.
Gabriella reaches for Joel, not to follow him and run but to stop and hold him, while asking "wait- what- where?" She glances again just to be sure, but really, she sees no fire, no smoke - and certainly not an ammount of it that would make her run out of the building instead of putting it down.
Of course, Joel's cry is enough to cause the few people in the library at this time of day, when classes should keep most of the busy, to panic too. Books are left laying around as people scatter, some remembering their backpacks, others forgetting even their phones. As the young man at the center of this mess cries out in his panic, however, a book slides off the table and under one foot, deliberately tripping him in his dash for the door.
Behind Joel's eyes, the flames surge up, higher than ever. In his fear, he might not realize it at first, but there's a distinct lack of heat. The books curl and singe and burn, and bits of paper fly on the heat currents that he cannot feel.
And then Gabriella is reaching for him. Skin contact is all it takes, and that vision transfers to her, as well. Every book, in any way about dreams at all, seems to be burning, an inferno tearing through them all.
Joel stumbles as Gabriella touches him, eyes wide in terror and shock--and then he pauses, looking around the raging inferno. "It's... it's cold..." he murmurs in utter surprise, clearly trying to figure out what to make of the information. "The hell's going on?"
"Fuck" Gabriella exclaims as flames lick then erupt from books, even if she does not seem to realize that there's something off about how Joel could see them before she did. Or maybe she does, as she leans down to try to help Joel up and run with him out of here, while asking Joel "did you do that?" She realizes at Joel's comment that he's right, it's not hot, but she's not lingering to find out why don't these flames heat the area, she's trying to take Joel out of here, while asking "not you, then?"
Joel shakes his head "There were...books. About people dying in their dreams. They seemed to want to show me something, and then suddenly--" he gestures wildly at the cold flames, even as he steps back toward the door.
Perhaps it's Hell indeed. The flames rage and every book burns, until there's only tiny wisps of charred paper left. A word, here and there can be made out. are is one of them. death another, and dreams from the title of the first page remains. A few others include causing, and mass. It wouldn't really be hard to put it all together to understand what's being said, except that as those papers are falling, a sharp ember pops off a shelf and lands in Gabriella's hair.
As Joel explains to the girl, it seems like her body becomes wreathed in an aura of fire. Though she feels no pain, it will take only moments, before Joel is looking at a skeletal, almost lifeless body, wreathed in copper hair and fire - not burning, not burning at all, but looking as lost as the people in those pictures had.
Joel stares at the fluttering pieces of paper "Dreams are causing mass death" he mutters softly. "Jesus Christ. How, though? What dreams? How do we..." then Gabriella bursts into flame before him, eyes widening in terror. For a moment he just stand there, rooted to the spot, loss and guilt and fear taking him over. Then he blinks, taking a sharp breath. He reaches out, trying to grab the wraith-like girl by the showers and shake her, calling out "I think /we're/ dreaming! We have to wake up!"
"What?" Gabriella asks Joel, confused with all that while still trying to drag him and herself get away from the flames she sees consuming the bookshelves.
Gabriella then screams - as fire catches on her hair. She tries to put it down, but it is all too fast - she's burnt to death... only she doesn't feel it - the panic isn't matched with heat, or pain, or anything. She ends up watching her clothes being consumed, her arms turn into a skeleton... but she does so without feeling any of it, astonished. It all stops as Joel shakes her, and that she feels- being shaken. "What! Yes- maybe we are!" she reacts to his words, trying to act and do something about it - she pinches his arm like she has seen in silly movies and read in children books about how to make sure if this is a dream...
Gabriella pinches Joel arm.
Joel closes hsi eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to find that sensation of stumbling, or jarring awake, that normalls comes when one knows one is dreaming.
And then the same seems to happen to Joel, though more slowly. As his mouth reads the words that whatever this creature is has been trying to get across, his skin tightens, flesh dissipating until he's nothing but a dessicated version of himself, as well. It's when he tries to warn Gabriella that everything goes haywire. The flames roar louder. The unburned books from different sections start to fly from the shelves at the two students, pelting them from all directions.
Is it a dream? If so, then enough focus of will alone should be enough to open some sort of doorway out, right?
But to get to the rest of the library, one would have to pass through row upon row of burning bookshelves...
"No!" Gabriella cries out as she sees Joel burning in flames, but, just like her, he doesn't die for it, or even suffer, it seems. "Come- I'm not going to wait here, we need to find a way out, no matter if this is a dream or something else! We're not feeling the flames and we're burnt anyway so... let's just go!" she decides for both, and reaches for one of Joel's arm bones, pulling and trying to drag him out.
Joel opens his eyes, looking at his hand in something like sick fascination as it turns into a blackened skeletal form. He turns his head toward Gabriella, and then toward the burning shelves. He takes a deep breath (with what, one might wonder?) and, needing this to not be real, he gives a curt nod, starting to run toward the exit at Gabriella's side, heedless of the obstacles.
As Gabriella and Joel start to try and truly focus, there's no jarring sense of coming awake. But the flames do seem to shimmer in one small area of the library, where they're the thickest. If anything, it looks like a door might be there, in the depths of them. Has whatever is trying to get this message across finally decided its done all it can? Or have they outwitted it?
Gabriella isn't as interested in understanding any message than she is in getting out of here, of confirming that this is a dream... be again an unburnt person. The temptation of heading away from the ticker is great, but if it is a door... Gabriella hesitates and asks Joel "let's try that way?", delegating the decision to him.
Joel tares at the shimmering light, hesitating for a moment. But he squares his shoulders and nods, deciding to risk it all as he heads for it, glancing back to make sure Gabriella follows along, hard though it is to look at her.
Joel steps through. Does Gabriella follow? If so, they'll find themselves not at home in their beds, but back in the library again. For a moment, it might feel like deja vu, or like some strange form of trickery in which they're right back where they started. But then...
The books are whole and unburned, left on the stacks and piled on the table. Gabriella is whole, the dessicated frame of her body no longer so. Joel, in much the same way, seems healthy again. But there, on the wall, in a spidery ancient looking script is a message still: Dreams are causing mass death.
Fun.