[ WP ] Conan the librarian . Write a short story about Conan and his blood filled exploits as a librarian .

Shh... 
 
 There was nobody else in the second floor archeology section. If there were, they might have frozen at the sight of a man dragging a big, black plastic bag behind him. The man was tall but it still took considerable effort to drag the bag across the stone floor. Maybe it was a bold move to be doing such a thing in plain daylight, but then there was never anyone in the second floor archeology section. 
 
 Conan dragged the bag into the cleaning closet. This time he remembered to take the cell phone - a pink thing with a small panda hanging off - and turn it off. Conan was not a man to make the same mistake twice. 
 
 Nobody saw him leave. The second floor was almost always empty nowadays, which was a shame, because all of his favorite books were here. That's why he had followed her. He had for a moment imagined she would pick up `` Lost Cities'', and he could compliment her choice, show her the picture on page 210 with the statue of a woman and compare her looks to the beauty of long gone princesses of ancient tribes. 
 
 She had picked up her phone instead. 
 
 And there is no talking in the library. 
 
 Conan proceeded downstairs. He loved the way dust danced in the beams of afternoon sunlight. There were a few people downstairs, a father with small children and two teenaged boys. Conan kept a keen eye on the boys; they were his least favorite customers. 
 
 He picked up a misplaced Little Prince from a table and started turning the pages as he walked to the children's section. He turned a corner to find himself face to face with a ten year old boy. 
 
 The boy was talking on his phone. 
 
 `` Excuse me,'' Conan said. 
 
 The boy ignored him. 
 
 Conan slammed the book down with a bang that startled the boy. The child looked up to the tall man towering over him with a shaky finger pointed at the large sign with a picture of a cell phone and a bold red cross on it. They boy rolled his eyes at Conan. The man's fists balled. 
 
 There is no talking in the library...
