THE MYSTERY CITY

« Welcome to Nightingale City!

The perfect place to start over!

A quiet provincial town out of time and the hardships of the outside world, which is surrounded by a ring of high mountains, creates a unique atmosphere of a secluded closed world.

For entertainment, you can visit the cinema, sports stadium or the Circus on the outskirts of the city. Historical streets are decorated with shops, eateries and a real Italian restaurant. The large library contains a rich collection of books for every taste.

Friendly people live their simple happy lives here. No one will ever hear quarrels and scandals on the streets.

For a simple and comfortable life, everything you need is here.

In the evening, fog spreads over the city, giving it a fabulous and mysterious appearance until dawn. On cloudy days, the haze makes one believe that the heavens themselves have come down to earth.

The level of crime on the streets of the city is zero, as is the level of noise raised by animals and children...

There are no children in the city of Nightingale.

There are no animals in the city of Nightingale.

There are no visitors in the city of Nightingale. All the townspeople have lived here for as long as they can remember.

The city of Nightingale is infallible...

Only a long time ago someone distorted the banner with the name of the city, renaming Nightingaletown to Nightmaretown (Nightingaletown - Nightmaretown) .... "

Thomas froze. The hand fluttering over the smooth surface of the notebook sheet trembled for the first time.

"Don't write too much."

An incomprehensible wave of animal horror almost made him cross out everything he had written. His left hand involuntarily twitched in a fit of fear to get rid of the notes, but by an effort of will the guy stopped. The right hand nervously tousled the light blond hair at the back of the head, bringing a little carelessness to the impeccable appearance. To the rhythm of a booming heart, he looked at his notebook, sometimes shifting his gaze to the wastebasket, where a pile of crumpled paper had accumulated. Thomas did not stop previous attempts to destroy his doubts.

But this time it was different.

A ringing silence reigned in the city library. Apart from the librarian, who lives in a room on the first floor, there was no one in the building. Rare visitors preferred to take books home without staying for a long time. But today they were not. The silence and sleep of the bookshelves usually inspired the knowledge of the new, previously unknown. A whole wing of the building kept a rich collection of books in foreign languages. However, this atmosphere played a cruel joke on a young library keeper named Thomas.

The dress code of the library called for a mandatory two-piece suit, cleaned and pressed. The librarian, as the face of his workplace, must be the standard of the classics as much as possible. Classic haircut, classic facial features and traditional hair color. Weird requirements. However, Thomas fully complied with them, so he was not surprised and never asked who dictated these requirements. If not for his gaunt appearance, he could top the list of the most beautiful librarians in the world, if there was one.

The nightmares that began with the first suspicions turned almost the first handsome man of the city into their own gloomy shadow. His white face had taken on an earthy gray tint, and his fine features were sharpened, as if he were suffering from exhaustion. In the reddened eyes, a gray-green color was barely recognizable, and hopelessness and endless fatigue were read in the look.

In moments of anxiety, hard physical work or something that requires complete immersion, when the whole world is "waiting on pause", could help. However, such work was rare in the library. Trapped in silence and unspoken turmoil, Thomas returned to his disturbing thoughts over and over again.

“If this city is so bright and friendly, then why don’t I have friends? I can't remember anyone. Even school… why are there no children here, no schools? Why am I the only one who notices this?

His right hand decisively flipped the notebook, and Thomas began writing from a fresh sheet.

“ There are no children and animals in the city.

The city has no communication with the outside world, except for the post office. But no one writes letters.

Shadows move in the night mist. These are not people. I saw them.

From time to time someone comes to the city, because this is "a place for new opportunities and a second chance." But where are these visitors, if all the residents are local?

It is not recommended to go to the Circus, but you can try at your own peril and risk.

How to leave the city?

Can you leave it? »

The bell at the front door shattered the silence, causing Thomas to recoil involuntarily from the notes. With a quick tug, he slammed the notebook shut and tucked it under the table. Straightening her tousled long brown hair as she went, another riddle of the city entered the library.

Good afternoon, Mr Thomas! the echo of a girl's voice swept through the reading room. Rustling with a fluffy old-fashioned skirt, a pretty girl who worked in the Tea Shop entered the library. I decided to visit you during the break!

“Good afternoon, Miss Hope,” the librarian tried to force a smile on his face, but it came out more like a grimace of pain. - Have you read the book yet?

“Not really,” the girl smiled, looking attentively at the guy, as if trying to hypnotize the emerald green of her eyes, “I just decided to take a short break and read German poetry for a while.

“Then go to the right wing. to guide you? He looked appraisingly at the girl's full, below-the-knee skirt and ruffled cuffs.

Will the dress catch a couple of books between the shelves? Among the foreign literature came across copies that were very fragile for falling. With a creak, it received mental permission to proceed with its mistress to the books.

- No need. I remember the road, thanks! - The girl, referred to as the witch's junior assistant because of her work in the shop, quickly went to the wing with foreign literature.

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The tight bodice favorably emphasized the fragile figure of the girl, forcing even the exhausted librarian, willy-nilly, to see Hope off for a long time.

The gothic style of the girl's clothes did not fit too well with the way the inhabitants of the city dressed, but did not contrast too much either. To himself, Thomas explained such preferences in clothing by the peculiarities of the dress code of the workplace. The worker at the old-fashioned Tea Shop was as much the face of her workplace as he was.

"Always dressed like she's going to a retro party later!" the boy mentally snorted as the girl disappeared from sight, but the thought stirred up another impulse to write down his thoughts.

Glancing from behind the table to see if the girl had gone far enough, Thomas pulled out a notebook and quickly jotted down his thoughts.

“ Readers don't take new books. Each time they come and take what they took shortly before ... as if the contents of what they read are being erased from memory.

Except for the younger witch Hope.

Nobody knows exactly what year it is.

The city seems to be in constant hibernation.

All days are the same.

Nobody is celebrating.

I do not know how long I have been living in this city, although I have lived as long as I can remember.

I'm not sure about my memories.

I'm not sure my name is Thomas.

I do not know how much of what I have written I will remember tomorrow ... "