The mountain was tall and malformed.  It jutted out of the earth as a singular monolith, unbothered and undisturbed in its growth from any other rock formations budding up against it and contorting its growth or shape.  For millions of years, it was left as a black sheep in the vastness, just barely far enough not to fall into the fold of the Appalachian Mountains that eclipsed its height and size.  Mount Ostium, as it was known to us outsiders who came to it for study, was a nexus of mystery and old urban legend all across southern Georgia, where it resided long before people had a name for where it lay.  In pre-colonial times, it had been the site…

It was late at night, maybe 10:30 or so. I had gotten off work around ten, like always. I worked the evening shift at one of the libraries at my local college. It was a smaller one, maybe a few hundred square feet, but it was a popular place for students as it was meant for the medical school that brought many students to the university that made my home a college town. This meant it was open most of the day, including well into the night. My job was to watch the place, clean everything up, occasionally answer phone calls, and help students find books. It was about as dull as a job could get, but I was happy…