The Marvelous Misadventures of Walter Guilman: The Witch House

Time Off

Guilman began to open his eyes, but squeezed them shut again at the bright light. He ended up having to open and close his eyes in small intervals, letting his eyes adjust a little more each time. When he was finally able opened his eyes, he saw Professor Peaslee sitting in a chair on the other side of the small room, smoking a pipe while reading a magazine. Guilman tired to get up, but groaned softly at a sharp ache in his leg. The professor looked up. "Ah, you're awake!" he sighed, relived. Guilman sat up. "Wh..Where am I?" he asked. "The infirmary at Miskatonic." the professor answered. "You've been here for about eight hours.". "Eight hours!?" Guilman said horrified. "What did I miss of the class?". The professor was distinctly taken aback. "That's what you're worried about? You lapsed into a near coma!". "I just had a nightmare last night, that's all! I must've just had a panic attack." The professor looked almost offended. "You sliced your ankle open." "It was probably a sharp bit on the chair." "We went over the seat you were in carefully, and there were part that could have come close to cutting your ankle like that." The professor stood, walked over and sat on the side of the hospital bed. "Walter, I want you to take the next week off." he said. Guilman leaned forward and clasped his hand together. "Please professor, it won't ever happen again!" he pleaded. "Just please let me go back!". The professor shifted uncomfortably. "Guilman I know that you're exited to be in my class, but I can't have you having "panic attacks" every day. I want you to go home and rest." Guilman grew suddenly angry at the proposition. "With all do respect professor," Guilman began, without a shred of respect in his tone. "You don't have any idea who I am! I've been having night terrors like this for years, and they haven't affected my waking habits once." he looked directly into the professor's eyes as he said this. The professor clasped his hands and looked down. He sighed. "Ok, Guilman," he began. "You're right. I don't know you. But what I do know is that it's not natural for someone to just scream, start hemorrhaging, and pass out in the middle of a mathematics lesson." He stood up and began to gather his things. "You may come to my class if you wish, but I would be much less anxious if you just rested this week." He took his cane and began to leave. Guilman piped up. "Fine." he said. "I'll stay home this week, but only if you mail me all the material you went over without me." The professor turned to Guilman and smiled. "Thank you Walter."

Guilman had never used crutches before, and it took some time for him to get used to them. He practiced by walking up and down the corridors of the vast university, watching as the moon shone brightly through the windows, and cast squares of light on the floor of the mostly dark hallways. He was just outside the college's library, when he heard professor Peaslee's voice from around the corner. "I'm not saying we should give him access to the entire restricted section," he was saying. "I'm just saying we let him go through one of the Azifs!". "We can't make an exception to one of our core rules just because you've taken pity on a sick freshman!" another voice answered angrily. When Guilman looked around the corner, he saw Professor Peaslee arguing with Dr. Armatage, the university's head librarian. He was a short fellow, with scraggly white hair and plump fingers. "I looked up Guilman's file after he passed out." Peaslee continued. "He's staying in the witch house. I haven't a doubt in my mind that him staying there and also taking my class isn't a coincidence." The short doctor pointed angrily at the professor. "We can't risk him learning too much! You've seen first hand what the Necronomicon can do to the unprepared mind!". Guilman froze in place. He had heard rumors about the Necronomicon, that it was a massive tome bound with human flesh, and filled with terrifying illustrations of creatures and descriptions of rituals that could only be comprehended by a madman. "Henry, please." Pleaslee said quietly, glancing quickly around. "You know if the book said how to enter ultimate chaos, we wouldn't be here". Armatage seemed to calm down. "My decision if final, Nat." he sighed. "The boy is banned from entering the restricted section just like everyone else." Peaslee paused in frustration for a moment. "Oh, fine!" he said loudly. "But don't come crying to me when he starts asking about it." The professor then stormed back down the hall and out of sight, and Dr. Armatage headed back into his office, while Guilman began to quietly crawl back to the hospital wing.