I awoke, groggy and dreary-eyed, one rainy morn. My mind was occupied with the readings and papers I had to do for Proctor’s class. Proctor, that well-dressed encyclopedia of a man! How does he find the time for it all? The papers, the readings, the movies, his wife — I decided now would be a good time to actually take the advice of my teachers: Go to office hours.
I approached his door in the basement of East Hall, met by a sign that simply said: “OFFICE HOURS AT THESE COORDINATES: 45.5150774, 25.3672373”
Without a word, I packed my things and returned home before my journey.
The next morning, I kissed my wife goodbye. “I’ll miss you,” I said.
“You’ll write every day. I demand it,” she replied. I nodded and took my leave.
The coordinates led me to a dark, eerie forest. Trees taller than the stacks of Proctor’s books surrounded me. I couldn’t even see the sky. What I could see was a path beckoning me forward.
After a day’s travel, I found myself at a castle gate. There was no way a senior lecturer’s salary covered a place like this.
The gate opened. An all-too-familiar figure appeared before me and beckoned me forward, silently.
“What are you doing here?” Doctor David John Proctor demanded.
“I just wanted to ask a few questions.” My brow was dripping. “How do you grade hundreds and hundreds of assignments? You said you looked at all of them. How is that possible?”
He sat silently, blinking at me. He looked cold, despite wearing a three-piece suit in this suffocating heat.
“I work… late into the night.” He responded evasively. “You look ill. It’s late. Spend the night here, it is a black omen to journey in poor health.” He was far too persuasive for me to resist his offer.
“Y-Yes Doctor Proctor.” I looked down, then back to Proctor, only to find him gone. His walks around campus had obviously trained him to go places quickly. It was then that my illness took me fully, and I collapsed in my chair.
I awoke again and it was still dark. My curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to explore. As I wandered about his home, I passed by a dark, menacing looking door. I felt an overwhelming urge to open it. Upon entering, the room looked more like an antique warehouse than anything else. His office in East Hall could never compare.
Then, I heard it. Clacking. Clicking. Smacking. Tapping. And interjections like “Good point, good point.” I stepped into the room and then immediately stopped. An ominous shadow climbed over a stack of ungraded papers. It looked… humanoid. But something was wrong. The shoulders were as pronounced as a suit’s, but there’s no way Proctor wears suits all night, right?
“WHO GOES THERE?”
I fled, searching for somewhere to hide– I knew I couldn’t outrun him. Just as I thought I was safe in a closet, a silhouette appeared in the window. I shrieked in terror. He really did wear suits all the time.
“YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THAT,” he bellowed. “NONE ARE TO KNOW MY GRADING PRACTICE. IT IS A… PRIVATE MATTER.”
“The grading seems too much for a mortal man! How do you sleep?”
“LEAVE. NEVER RETURN. NEVER TAKE MY CLASSES AGAIN.”
My blood went cold, I couldn’t believe it. I had been… banned from all Proctor lectures?
I left, my tail between my legs, but couldn’t find my old path.So there I was, lost in the woods, without a connection to the ancient world. The man couldn’t be human. No mere man should grade like that. No mere man could grade like that.
