Achast

The rain was coming down in sheets, lashing against the windows of the small flat. Thunder rolled in the distance, almost covering up the sound of a frantic doorbell ringing. But he’d been expecting his visitor for sometime, so on the third ring, Professor Pendergast opened the front door. “Why hello!” He told the, somewhat wet and bedraggled coed standing out on his doorstep. “I’m glad you made it safely.” The young woman nodded, shivering slightly, as she quickly stepped inside, eager to get out of the cold rain. She stood, dripping on the entry hall, trying to wring some of the wetness out of her long, auburn hair as she looked around. The Professor has something of a reputation on campus as the “weird professor” and his house, what she could see of it from here at least, seemed to live up to that reputation. The walls were crowded with curios and artifacts of every kind: african tribal masks jockeyed for spaced with medieval manuscripts while the shelves were crowded with little