Chapter 7: The Man in the Black Coat

Violet decides to get to the bottom of the mysteries surrounding her. Where better to start than with a person who seemingly appeared out of nowhere?

Chapter 7:  The Man in the Black Coat    

It’s the next day. Wednesday, around eleven in the morning. I decide to cut classes, due to my injuries from yesterday. Surprisingly, I seem to be healing quite fast, just as Atum said. I should be fine by the end of the day. Wonder what kind of medicine he gave me that produced results like this?

I stand shirtless in front of the mirror, examining the wounds I suffered from that freakish monster. The cuts seem to have already closed up, thanks to Atum’s medicine. I remove the bandages that are covering my torso from my breasts down to my waist. I blush, once again thinking about the fact that Atum had to take off my shirt and bra yesterday while I was unconscious in order to tend to my wounds. I sigh. I really need to thank him properly. He really did save my life yesterday…and more than once, too. Too bad I suck at saying things like that. Yesterday I just ended up yelling at him instead of showing gratitude.

Oh well, I can thank him whenever I work up the nerve to. Right now, I have something else I need to do. Something that’s been bugging me. I shower and get dressed, and then grab my backpack and exit my dormitory.

It is now right around noon. The campus is bustling with students either moving between classes or searching for a place to grab some lunch. I cross a large grassy field full of students leisurely enjoying their lunches, socializing and basking in the sunlight. I follow the sidewalk to the entrance of one of the academic buildings. Once inside, I head up the stairs one floor and then head down the hallway to the area where the faculty offices are. I check the doors, searching for room 34C. I remember on the first day of classes, Professor Bradford had told us that his office was 34C, and that I had absentmindedly scribbled down on a piece of paper “philosophy prof’s room-34C”. This morning, out of curiosity, I looked through my binder for Philosophy and sure enough, my note was still there.

Now I am here at 34C, but the nameplate doesn’t have Bradford’s name on it. Instead, it reads “Minoru Kusari”. Kusari. That new guy in the black lab coat. Though I guess I shouldn’t call him ‘new’, since I’m the only one who remembers Professor Bradford. Oh well, it’s not like I expected to find Bradford’s name on the door anyway. I’m not sure why this Kusari guy has replaced our old teacher, or why no one but me is aware of it, but I’m determined to find out. I’m not sure if the creatures that attacked Bradford and me are responsible, or if something else is going on, but I know where to start if I want to unravel this mystery. I hoist up my backpack strap, take a deep breath and knock on the door.

No response.

I knock again. Still nothing. Oh no, what if he went out to eat? Just as I’m wondering whether or not I should knock a third time, I hear a voice from inside the office.

“Who is it?”

There’s no mistaking that monotone, bored-slash-annoyed voice. That’s definitely Professor Kusari.

“It’s Violet. A student in your afternoon Philosophy class. I’ve come to ask some questions about the homework,” I respond.

I hear the sound of the door unlocking, then “Come in, it’s open.”

He gestures for me to take a seat across from him. I walk into his small office and sit down in the chair. I take a moment to survey the room. Nothing unusual in here; looks just like any teacher’s office. Shelves with complicated looking books, a desk, a chair, computer, some plants and a window behind his seat.  The professor appears to be eating"that makes sense, it is around lunchtime after all.

Professor Kusari seems to have ignored my presence in favor of nibbling a peach and doing something on his laptop. Since I’m sitting across from him, I can’t tell what he’s doing. I notice that he’s still wearing the black lab coat. What’s with that? He’s not even a science professor.  After a few awkwardly silent minutes, I get fed up of waiting for him to say something, so I try to break the silence myself.

“So, uh…you like peaches?” Yeah, that’s a great conversation starter, Violet.

Professor Kusari finally glances at me from the corner of his eye, and removes the peach he’s been nibbling on from his mouth to speak. His voice comes out in his usual smooth, emotionless way.

“Why do you ask?”

“I-I dunno, was just kind of asking…” This isn’t going as I’d expected. I know I’m not a conversational goddess, but can’t this guy respond like a normal human being? Why’s he being so hostile? Is he just trying to make fun of me?

The professor lets out a sigh and sits up in his chair as he turns to face me properly. He then looks into my eyes and speaks.

“I don’t really know why I’m eating a peach. I never really liked ‘em that much, and yet, I eat them all the time now. At least once a day, anyway.” He seems awfully talkative all of a sudden.

“That so?” I say, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation onto the topic I actually came to discuss. I couldn’t care less why he eats peaches. Unfortunately, he continues his story before I have the chance to interrupt.

“Yeah, it’s like one day peaches just kind of became a part of my life, and I was stuck with ‘em. Eventually I grew to like peaches, and so now it’s as if life just isn’t quite right if I don’t have them.” He hasn’t broken eye contact with me this whole time, which feels incredibly awkward. Even so, I get the feeling he’s not really looking at me anymore. His mind is far off. “Though admittedly, I have had a bit of an off-on kind of relationship with them. Love-hate and all that, yes?”

I clear my throat. “I see, that’s very interesting and all, Professor Kusari, but that’s not why I came to talk to you today.” I need to get him off this stupid topic.

He seems to come back to Earth. “Oh, why did you come here again?” he asks as he scratches his head.

“I came here to ask about an assignment due Friday,” I remind him as I pull some papers pertaining to the class from my backpack.

“I see,” the professor responds. He sounds totally uninterested. Oh well, not like it matters. I actually came to see if there were any traces of Professor Bradford in this office, since it was originally his. However my survey of the room earlier revealed that, just like how no trace of the professor remains in my classmates’ memories, no trace of him is left in this room either.

I recall what Atum once said to me about me having the ability to see things others can’t. Even though back then I had brushed him off, recent events are starting to wear down my resistance to the idea. I mean, I originally wrote off the whole Bradford-getting-swallowed-by-a-monster fiasco as a scary dream, but since a similar creature attacked me and gave me injuries to boot, I just might have to admit that those things are real. Also up until now, a part of me kept thinking that Atum is just a figment of my imagination, but he saved my life and applied bandages to my body. Could a figment of my imagination do that? Guess not. So he must be ‘real’ too, even if only I can see him.

But there are still so many things I don’t understand.  Like, for example, why do those creatures appear? What’s their goal? Do they just attack people randomly? Is that how they…feed? I don’t like that thought so I quickly move on to a different question. Why is it that I can see those things but no one else can? Atum said I have a special ability that allows me to see things hidden behind the…what was it again? Oh yeah, a veil or something. Unfortunately, I don’t have any way of answering most of those questions at the moment, so for now I’ll try doing what I can. And that is to figure out what happened to Professor Bradford. I don’t know for sure if it’s possible to find out anything, seeing as how he seems to have been erased from existence, but I have to try. After all, if those things aren’t just randomly feeding on people, and they actually have some purpose that they act on, then that means they failed when Atum saved me from one of them. And that means they might come back. If I figure out why Bradford was attacked, I might be able to figure out why they are after me too.

And that brings me to Professor Kusari. I have no clue who this Kusari guy is, but that doesn’t mean that he wasn’t already a professor at this university before he replaced Bradford as the Philosophy teacher. I mean, it makes perfect sense for there to be lots of professors I’ve never seen or met before here. And if Kusari is another Philosophy teacher, then it’s possible he would’ve known Bradford from before. Just because the students don’t remember Bradford doesn’t necessarily mean Professor Kusari doesn’t. Hell, he doesn’t even have to have known the guy; he just needs to know that the guy ever existed.  And besides all of that, Kusari strikes me as suspicious. I get a weird feeling from looking at him. At any rate, I have to try questioning Professor Kusari about Bradford.

I place the assignment on Kusari’s desk and begin pointing out questions that I’m pretending I need help with. He looks at it with that same half annoyed, half bored expression he uses to look at everything. This guy really bugs me. Even so, I’m surprised by how young-looking he is. If he is a college professor, I’d like to say he’s probably at least in his thirties, but he looks like he’s as young as twenty-five or so. Maybe he was a genius and took accelerated programs in school or something? If he combed his hair, wore normal clothes, and didn’t have that annoying expression on his face, he’d probably be quite handsome. Whoa, better stop that train of thought.

Anyway, as he’s lazily helping me with my assignment, I’m trying to find the right way to question him about Bradford. If Kusari is like everyone else and has forgotten about Bradford, or if Kusari and Bradford never knew each other in the first place, then my questioning will only seem strange. And if I keep pressing the issue, he’ll think I’m crazy. Which I might be. Seriously, I’m still not convinced that all the weird stuff happening lately isn’t somehow an illusion, or a long dream. It’s certainly possible.

While I’m frantically trying to come up with a way to question him, Professor Kusari opens his mouth first,

“So…Violet, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Is everything…alright?”

“Excuse me?” I don’t see what he’s getting at, but he seems to be hesitant to say it. Why won’t he just spit it out?

“Well, I’m asking because of your…episode on Monday.”

I freeze. How could I have forgotten? I had a panic attack in class on Monday afternoon, after which Laura helped me out of the classroom and back to my dorm. Damnit, I don’t want to talk about this, especially not with some stranger like him. Why did that have to happen? Since I skipped classes today, I lucked out, but the next Philosophy class is on Friday, and everyone is gonna be snickering and cracking jokes about me behind my back. Either that or they’ll pity me.

“Violet, are you alright?” Professor Kusari says. His usual empty expression has been replaced by one of concern…or is it pity?

Damnit, don’t pity me! Don’t pity me! My body feels hot, and my vision blurs as the walls twist and turn. I’m having trouble breathing. I look up at Kusari’s face, and I see him smiling a shark-toothed grin as he glares down at me with condescending eyes. He’s becoming larger and larger as I become smaller and smaller. It’s as if he’s preparing to devour me. I look down at the floor and force my eyes shut. Damnit. Damnit! Damnit! Pull yourself together, Violet!

I slow my breathing and wipe my face. I remember that I opted not to take my medication on Monday, didn’t get around to it yesterday because of the monster attack, and still haven’t today. Need to fix that. At any rate, I just need to relax right now. It’s difficult, but once I’ve calmed down I look up at Professor Kusari. Surprisingly, he’s just sitting there with a calm expression, as if my behavior just now hadn’t surprised him. He must be keeping a poker face to seem polite.

I decide to cut to the chase.

“Professor, how long have you been teaching Philosophy at this university?” I ask. It’s time to get answers, but I have to be careful not to ask anything too weird straight out.

He ponders for a moment answering, “I actually haven’t taught Philosophy here before this semester. I used to teach somewhere else.”

Okay, then it’s not likely he would have met Professor Bradford. What now? Guess it won’t hurt to try asking outright now. “So you’ve never met or heard of Professor Roy Bradford? He used to teach Philosophy before you showed up.”

Professor Kusari starts typing on the computer absentmindedly. He says without looking at me, “Nope, can’t say that I have. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just curious I guess. He was a good philosophy teacher, so I was wondering if you knew him since you’re teaching the same class that he did.”

Kusari stops typing for a moment and does something I wasn’t expecting. He smirks. A small smirk, but a smirk nonetheless. That’s the most emotion I’ve seen from him yet! But what’s bothering me is that I don’t know what’s causing him to smirk.

“Violet, you’re a second-year student, am I correct?”

I’m confused by the sudden change of subject but I manage a nod. Where is he going with this…?

“I see. If you don’t mind my asking, how do you know of this ‘Professor Roy Bradford’?” Kusari asks.

“Huh? I just told you. He was a philosophy teacher here before you showed up.”

Now Kusari is beaming with a wide, frightening grin. “Isn’t that strange? You say he taught the same class that you’re taking with me. I teach the introductory Philosophy course. Why would you know a philosophy teacher from before you ever took a Philosophy course?”

“O-oh, I just sorta happened to run into him, and we started talk"“

Kusari cuts me off. “But, if I recall correctly, you just said that he was ‘a good philosophy teacher’ didn’t you? How would you know that if he never taught you?”

Crap! How could I have made that mistake? “I, uh, I’m repeating the course.” There, it wasn’t graceful, but he has no way of knowing whether that’s true or not.

“No you didn’t, I checked just now in the records. You didn’t take Philosophy in either semester last year.”

Damnit! What the hell? He looked me up as we were talking!? How does he even have access to what courses I took last year anyway?

I’m really struggling to find a believable reason at this point. I decide to go with, “I heard about him from my friends.”

“We both know you don’t have any friends.”

I jump from my seat in exasperation. “You a*****e!”

Professor Kusari stands up as well and points a finger in my face, laughing maniacally. “Ahaha! You’re not too smart are you!? You’ve let enough information slip for me to conclude that you know something that I would like to know!”

Suddenly he leans across the desk to whisper in my ear. “But we can’t talk about it here; there are too many potential eavesdroppers. You’ll have to come to my place sometime. I’d say Friday night. There, we can continue our chat about Mr. Bradford, yes?”

I’m too creeped out by the fact that my professor just invited me to his home by whispering into my ear to respond. Professor Kusari writes his address on a small note and hands it to me. I receive it absent-mindedly. The professor says he has to somewhere to be and ushers me out of his office. He closes and locks his door before briskly walking down the hall, his black coat billowing out behind him like a cape.

“What the hell just happened?” is all I can manage to say.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Let me know what you think! Hope you like it