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Dawn was fast approaching, and he would need to go to work soon. His nighttime fantasies were that of his own ordeal, for his own pleasures. He had taken accustom to visiting this one home, though. It was an older home, with a large yard and woodlands out back, making it convenient for him to explore. By day, he was a university professor. By night, he ran with the wind as a wolf. He was a Werewolf.
Jack could hardly tolerate the suspense. Today was the day of the new term, and that meant fresh meat. New students. Every marking term it always got his blood rushing, since he was able to start anew and fresh. Rare was a time when he had a student twice in a row, since he was always such an excellent professor, or, at least, that's how he viewed himself. To him, he was on top of the world, the greatest of the great. He was stronger than anyone else, faster, more adept at language, and all around just better than anyone else. Some called him arrogant, some dared cocky, but he was better than that. He was a Werewolf.
Walking into the university looking as he always did on new term days, he fitted his collar once more, anxiously waiting for the bell to ring and students to start flooding in. Before class started, one student walked in, prepared for class. In her hand, she carried a laptop, and strung over her shoulder she carried a small carry-on bag, decorated with patches, writing, and pins. He hair flowed long and dark brown, but Jack didn't dare measure her up. He was purely business. His eyes narrowed on her face, however. It looked... familiar. Almost too familiar, except Jack couldn't quite place his finger on where he had seen her.
The bell rung, and the rest of the students filed in. Some were wearing hats, or other various forms of dress code violations of his classroom. But that was always how it was in his classroom on the first day of the marking term. As usual, he enjoyed scaring his students out of their wits to know the rules better. It always worked; he was sure of it. His students were known to be the most well-behaved of the entire system, hence his popularity amongst his fellow colleagues.
The class continued on, his focus on that one female student. Upon occasion she would look back at him, eye to eye, and he would stutter his words, scaring him that the reaction would occur. He talked of concept cars, of the future railways, and various other topics that would be taught throughout the marking term. The students paid very close attention to his words, almost as though they were under a trance. One, he quickly learned, was of great interest to Jack. His eyes were wide with anticipation, and he seemed to take in every word Jack said as though they were forming his new found scripture. Each time Jack would ask a question, rhetorical or not, that boy's hand shot up first. It amused Jack to no end that someone would be so interested in that of gossip of what could happen. Jack had become fond of teaching this class of mythology and concepts. He would often talk about the folklore that surrounded the land of which he resided, which often involved so-called "mythological" beasts and beings such as vampires and werewolves. Jack knew better, of course. He was a Werewolf.
Several days passed by, and Jack revisited the house. The swimming pool, he noticed, had been covered up, as a start of the new season. The cold winters were fast approaching, and Jack's fur started to thicken. He looked onward towards the back deck, his eyes searching. There was a movement from inside, a stirring. Whoever it was then walked outside, and relaxed on the side of the deck walls, looking onward towards the woodlands. Jack's heart skipped a beat. It was his student, his very favored student. He sent out a howl into the night, knowing that she would hear him, and his words the next day. She would know, just as he planned, for he was a Werewolf.
Thee Alchemyst · Tue Jan 13, 2009 @ 02:49am · 0 Comments |
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