Author's note: This tale of Lovecraftian cosmic horror has been dancing in my mind for quite a while, and I hope you enjoy it. Please note that some parts of the story will contain dark elements and non-consent. I'm eager for feedback, so please leave a comment.
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Abigail Carter hurried across the Twisted Quad through the New England rain and bowled into the glass doors of the Jermyn Hall of Anthropological Studies, nearly knocking down a girl who was reluctantly emerging into the downpour. She made a hasty apology as the other student pushed out into the rain, and then threw back the hood on her sweatshirt and tried to shake the clinging wetness off her clothes.
The sky outside was quickly darkening as the storm rushed in and the sun set, and Jermyn's lobby was emptying out as students fled the campus for whatever festivities their Friday evenings held. Abigail would have preferred to join them, but she had no choice other than to obey the summons she had received by email that afternoon.
"Miss Carter," it read, "Please come to my office this afternoon at five to discuss your midterm. - Professor Ward."
Abigail knew her midterm had been terrible, and she had hardly been able to sleep since taking it two days before. She had studied - as always - and loved the material, but when she had sat down in front of the test... well, something had happened, and she wasn't sure what. The midterm was a blank spot in her memory, or nearly so. Something about a knife. She wished it were completely blank instead of tinged with a suffocating creepiness that narrowly evaded her conscious recollection.
Abigail shook her head to clear it and suddenly realized that she was sitting on the damp floor of the lobby. Had she fallen? She was more tired than she thought. Rain pounded on the glass where her back rested and the sky outside was completely black, except when thunderous peals of lightning illuminated the deserted quad. A quick glance at her phone told her she was running late, so she picked herself up and bounded up the stairs.
The stairway ended on the third floor, but a sign pointed her towards the East Tower where Professor Ward's office was located. The Hall seemed to be completely empty, and the raging storm gave the meandering passageways a dreamlike quality. Like most of Miskatonic University, Jermyn Hall had been built in stages over more than two centuries, and none of the halls or stairways lined up in a rational manner. Abigail began to shiver in her wet clothes when she finally found the door to the East Tower and ascended to the top floor.
The stairs emerged into a small study with packed with crowded bookshelves and vacant workspaces, as well as a huge picture window that looked out over the University. Across the study was a door with a nameplate that read, "Professor Simon Ward" - it was closed, but light stretched out from beneath it and played across the floor.
Abigail knocked softly on the door and belatedly attempted to straighten her clothes and hair. Almost immediately a woman's voice beckoned her to enter, so she took a deep breath and did so. Professor Ward's office occupied the other half of the tower's top floor, but Abigail felt immediately claustrophobic when she stepped inside. The picture windows were covered by thick curtains, and the air was warm and heavy with the smell of incense. The floors and walls were burdened with layers of artifacts and tomes accumulated over years and laid down like geologic strata. A fireplace roared in the corner, casting eldritch light dancing around the room. A massive, ancient desk dominated the room, covered with open manuscripts, and behind it sat Professor Ward holding a magnifying glass. His graduate student, Victoria Keen, stood beside him, and the two were leaning over the desk as if Abigail had interrupted a rather serious bit of inspection. They were silent when she entered, and continued their study as Abigail stood awkwardly before them. The room had but the single chair, taken by the Professor, and no computer or sign of any technology beyond lightbulbs whatsoever.
"I'm sorry I'm late, Professor Ward," Abigail said, and it came out in a whisper.
The Professor set down his magnifying glass, peered at her, and then gradually broke into a smile. He was young for a professor, and his smile lit up his face. Several of Abigail's freshman friends had crushes on Ward, which wasn't surprising considering his handsome appearance and the peculiar tales of adventure that constituted most of the curriculum of his Fundamentals of Anthropology course. Still, Abigail shivered when he looked at her... probably just because of her wet clothes.
"Good evening, Miss Carter," Professor Ward said. "We were just reviewing your midterm. Very interesting."
Abigail stammered and her words came out in a jumble. "I know, Professor, it must be a mess. I wasn't even sure if I wrote anything at all... I mean, I studied a lot... I really love your class. I want to major in anthropology. I didn't feel good that day, and the test... it was so weird." Professor Ward tapped his fingers on the desktop and stared at her. Victoria frowned. Abigail twisted her feet on the floor and continued, "I mean, I'm sure I will do better -"
Ward cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Be quiet, child. I'm not going to bite your head off. You're soaked and shivering... hopefully from the storm and not from worry over your midterm."
Abigail nodded and clutched her fingers in front of her. "How did I do? Can I... can I see my test?"
Ward and Victoria both glanced down at the paper on the desk and then back up at Abigail. Victoria spoke to Ward in a low voice, "I don't think that's a good idea, Professor."
Professor Ward spoke without looking up at Victoria. "Tell me, Miss Carter: did you notice anything strange while you were taking the test?"
Abigail shook her head. How could she explain it, anyway? Did she pass out during the test like she had in the lobby just a few minutes ago? The suffocating feeling returned and Abigail staggered, nearly falling to the floor again. Somehow Ward caught her and lowered her gently to the rug in front of the fire. The warmth of the flame washed over her body and Abigail felt the harshest edge of the chill leave her.
"What did you see, Miss Carter? What did you feel?"
The warmth gave her courage to speak and as the chill retreated her mind unveiled some of what had been hidden. "Blackness, emptiness, unending. No stars, nothing I could see. But just behind me, there was a presence. I turned and turned but couldn't find it. Always on the edge of sight. Couldn't breathe. And then... a knife. That's all I can remember." Abigail's shoulders slumped and she fought to not curl into a ball by the fire. "I must just be tired, Professor, or sick. I don't understand what's happening to me."
From the desk Victoria said, "Professor, this is too dangerous. Remember Emma..."
Ward put an arm around Abigail. "No, Victoria. This is the chance we've been waiting for. We have to take it." He leaned down and spoke into Abigail's ear. "I can help you remember, if you'll let me. I've encountered this before, and I can help you."
