On foggy nights around campus, you may hear footsteps in the haze. This is the sound of the old man circling the sidewalk of Elizabethtown College. He won’t tell you his name. He definitely won’t tell the Etownian. He walks fasts but if you catch him, he will say he’s an alum, class of 1972.

I spoke with him last semester and we shared our favorite professors. I won’t say mine here. I don’t want to leave anyone out. His favorites are all retired. Or dead. You haven’t heard of any of them.

But his absolute favorite (the most obscure of them all) was a visiting scholar from France — a cryptozoologist named Jacques Perreaux. He specialized in the study of bizarre creatures.

The old man said, “The administration has scrubbed him from the records. He didn’t teach any classes. Or write any papers. But he was very active.”

Then he added, “His work is in the library.”

Then he disappeared into the fog.

Naturally, I laughed off the old man’s words as a joke. I lived my life, same as I always had. But slowly, I began hearing them grow louder inside my mind until I couldn’t think of anything else. I couldn’t eat. My grades slipped (yes, that’s what I’m blaming it on). I had to know the truth. What had Dr. Perreaux hidden in Etown’s High Library?

I walked around in a haze — like the fog that night had never lifted. It was only because of my absent-mindedness that I ever arrived at the truth.

As I sat in the library, gazing glassy eyed at a book, I realized I was reading in the dark. Then I realized the library had closed for the night. The staff had forgotten me.

I went to leave, only to find the doors were locked. I tried to call campus security, but I’d forgotten to plug in my phone the night before. 

Making peace with the fact I’d be there all night, I took the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to yell in a library. Then I heard a yell back. It wasn’t an echo. My voice wasn’t that deep. It wasn’t that angry.

I called out again, each time getting a muffled response. Like a submarine pinging a ship, I found my way to my target. On the second floor in a bookshelf flush against the wall, the sound came through clearly. I fumbled with the books, withdrawing each one, hoping to get a peak at the source of the noise.

But one book wouldn’t move. I pulled hard on the volume, trying to wriggle it loose, until a harsh CLICK echoed around the room and the bookcase creaked open. 

I stared into the black crack along the hinge of the secret door. Beads of sweat collected on my upper lip as I gazed into the darkness. 

Then I looked down. A great, hairy paw tapped impatiently against the gloomy floor. Then a hand swept through the air, a set of dull claws passing a half-inch from my face.

I slammed the door shut, clicking the book back into place to lock the terror back in. My editor demands I omit the book’s name to keep these ghastly events from repeating themselves.

Running back downstairs, I waited in terror for the night to end.

The ordeal left me with more new questions than answers, so I reached out to the High Library staff to ask them about the thing behind the bookcase.

Clarissa Grunwald, the library’s Circulation Assistant, was quite upfront. She confirms the library does harbor a Bigfoot. “We don’t usually talk about it.”

What does he eat? “Mostly people with overdue books,” Grunwald said. 

When asked why this is the time to let the world know about the creature, Ms. Grunwald said, “Well, it seems like a time when there isn’t really anything else going on in the world. Since there’s been a real lull in the news, I figured we might as well let people know about the Bigfoot in the library.”

Others were more evasive. 

Jennifer Strain, the Instruction and Scholarly Communications Librarian, said only, “You should always return your library books on time.”

When asked whether the library contains other cryptozoological marvels, Ms. Strain looked down and said, “Our archives are quite extensive.” 

Joshua Cohen, the High Library’s Instruction and Outreach Librarian, “Cannot confirm or deny” the presence of the creature. However, he takes a firm stance that if a hypothetical Bigfoot were to exist, it would be a vegetarian. 

“He likes those new Beyond Meat burgers and frankly, I take issue with the term ‘furry monster,’” Cohen said. 

I ended my investigation not knowing if I can trust my college. But I know I can trust my eyes and I will never forget what I have seen.