Her skeletal caress sent a shock through his skin.
"The tithe is paid. Always."
He woke with her words ringing in his ears and the want moonlight sneaking in the window. Bryan checked the time. 2 am. Same time as the night before. The dream was becoming frequent and predictable. Her presence invaded his waking moments more and more. She appeared at the ends of hallways standing head and shoulders over his fellows. Always far away. Always staring with all the predatory hunger a creature with no organs could muster.
Bryan wouldn't call the feeling fear. Not really. Maybe in part, but that was like calling Britain a part of Europe, true but not complete. What was that other feeling? Elation? Anticipation? Pleasure? Something about her made him excited. The timbre of her voice, perhaps. The way she threatened without saying anything threatening at all.
The tithe.
The tithe is paid.
The tithe is paid, always.
Bryan rolled over to go back to sleep. College classes were much more tolerable when rested.
***
In the morning, he stumbled out of bed while taming what his mother called his 80's hairband mane with his fingers. The disarray of his space would have hardly shocked her despite the knowledge she would never allow it if he lived at home. Good ol' Mom, neater than he ever hoped to be. He snatched a tee out of his drawer, one habit he did keep was only dirty clothes on the floor, and slipped it on.
His thoughts came round to the mystery woman as he pretended to brush his teeth without toothpaste. Then he snatched up his phone and bag before bounding out the door.
"Go put on some pants, you perv!"
He slunk back to his apartment and shoved his legs into some denim. No wonder he hadn't been able to put his phone in his pocket.
All told he was on time for class, barely. He slipped in just as the TA strode up to lock the door. They exchanged glances, one haughty the other sheepish, and Bryan scuttled to a seat as the TA moved back down the aisle to the front of the medium sized auditorium. Class was not well attended.
The TA spoke as Bryan searched for his Mythology text.
"Class, we have a guest lecturer today."
Groans erupted. Guest lecturers meant test material that wasn't in the book.
Bryan looked up.
He tried to swallow the rock suddenly lodged in his throat.
That rock, his unexpressed scream, refused to go down.
A short, pudgy man whose scalp showed shiny in the overhead lights stood at the front of the room. His brown suit matched the rims of his glasses perfectly. When he moved, he lumbered with the deliberation of a rhinoceros.
"Good afternoon, class," he stated. "I am Professor Stockton."
Bryan needed no introduction.
Dr. Daniel Stockton, preeminent professor of otherworld mythology, was dead.
Yet...there he paced.
Bryan stared at the way his head waggled when he walked. Nervous gesture or loose head? Bryan squeezed his eyes shut, but Stockton's voice vibrated in the space between his ears.
"Of course you have all heard of Atlantis?" he asked.
"Yes," Bryan whispered. "Atlantis."
The tithe is paid. Always.
