Oct 31: All Hallow’s Eve

We’ve reached the end of my October writing challenge and of this story. As I type this, my black cat Duncan is on my lap, my Jack-O-Lantern is flickering beside me, and Rocky Horror is playing on the TV. I’m also eating way too much candy. So, it’s definitely still Halloween in this house.

Thanks for hanging in there through this challenge and this story. I had no idea when I started the places it would go. I don’t know if this is a comment about higher academia or what, but here it is. Also, I am very much a product of higher academia and have benefited from it. Still, I have seen the toxicity of it nearly eat my friends alive. Like everything, it has two sides to it.

My Jack-O-Lantern with a curious Katy cat.

Prompt, All Hallow’s Eve.

“One Year Later

Gregor finished his lecture. The students seemed utterly confused and a little frightened. It was his best lecture yet. They all filed out at the end of the hour, happy to be leaving, but especially happy to be leaving for their own Halloween festivities.

As soon as they were gone, Gregor reflected on that night a year ago. Dr. Hozier had been found guilty on all four counts of murder. It’d helped that he’d left a detailed account in his journal in his house. (Always the braggart.)

Now Gregor was a full professor, what he’d always wanted. That night 365 days ago seemed like a distant memory, except for one thing. Gregor looked around and removed a key from his jacket pocket. He used it to open a secret drawer in his desk. Inside that drawer was this pickled head of Richard, his former colleague and mentor. He’d kept it from the cops, lied about it. Why had he kept it? Maybe to remind himself of where he’d been, maybe to remind himself of what he was capable of.

Gregor smiled and closed the drawer. Outside his class, three students remained. “Man, Professor Jenkins is the worst,” one of them commented.

“I think he takes pleasure out of ruining our GPA,” the other bemoaned.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to graduate because of him,” the third added.

“Someone should really do something about him,” the first remarked. “But what?”

“I don’t know, but someone that awful, karma has it out for them,” the second ensured.

“He did survive the death of all his friends,” the third reminded them.

“That doesn’t excuse his asshattery,” the first replied. “Trust me, he’s going to get his.”

Gregor came out of the room at that time and the students scattered. Gregor smiled. He ruled with an iron fist. Out of the corner of his eyes, he thought he saw a flash of something. It looked like . . . No, it couldn’t be. It was his mind and the anniversary playing tricks on him. He could have sworn he’d seen Death. Gregor shouldered his bag, hunched his shoulders, and headed out into the night.”