Lana the Librarian
an excerpt

“Umm, like, the reference section?”
Cyos rolled his yes.
“Feel free to spend the rest of your fleeting existence treading the halls of my perfectly stacked shelves, but in the interests of me not having to dispose of your smelly little carcass, why don't you tell me what subject you're after?”
A blank stare response. Mmmhm.
“Topic. What's the essay question?”
“Oh! Umm,” rustle, rustle. Crumpled sheet emerges from designer backpack.
Cyos sighed. An eternity of fucking idiots. Wasn't a library supposed to be full of attractive intellectuals endlessly debating philosophy and literature with perfectly formatted references? This was not what he signed up for. Mind you, he'd never signed anything.
He didn't even have a signature.
An eternity of directing panicking students to the same fucking books and journals was not worth the library's ancient protections.
Or was it? Cyos looked up from the ditz's essay sheet and saw Zara in full flight. Green cardigan flapping behind in her wake, waving what looked like either an encyclopaedia or an atlas around, hitting a fleeing group of teenage boys on every other flail of her deadly, enraged arms.
"DON'T! EVER! BEND! THE! SPINES!" Punctuating with lethal accuracy. "OUT! BANNED! FOREVER! LEAVE LIBRARY CARDS IN RETURNS CHUTE!"
Her quarry scarpered off into the drizzling morning, surrendering their borrowing rights in a fit of terror.
Maybe, Cyos thought, just maybe, his choice had been wise after all.