Should go to school

Should go to school

A Story by HadesRising

Today, I murdered my professor. I almost felt bad. If it weren't for the fact that he was thinking of failing me. See, it's my last semester here at this garbage dump of a university and I've spent more time than most here as an undergrad. I finally knew what I wanted to do with my life and staying here just made me feel like I was stagnating. Suffocating. I could finally see a way out of this shithole and the only thing standing in the way of my freedom was this professor.

I calmly removed my hands from around his neck and walked away from his lifeless corpse. I felt a twinge of satisfaction; this professor had been giving the entire class a hard time all semester. What with his bullshit exams and demanding assignments, it was getting to be all too much. He was getting to be a little too much.

I waited for a few seconds, listening for any footsteps or voices that would indicate that someone was outside his office door. Not a sound could be heard from where I was standing. But who am I kidding. Who would even be in this part of the building at this time? It's outside of his office hours. Besides, almost no one goes to see him in his office anyway.

I picked up my bag from the chair I left it on, walked to the door, and rested my hand on the door handle. I turned to look at the still body one more time. He was just as I had left him: sitting in his chair with his head lolled back, dark blue-black bruises starting to appear where my fingers had gripped his neck so firmly. I turned back to the door and turned the handle. I cracked it open just enough to allow my body to slip out but not enough to allow for anyone to see the inside of the office, if there was anyone outside. But there was no one outside. Just in case there was anyone hidden in the hall, I said "Thank you Professor! Have a nice weekend!" and closed the door behind me.

I walked back to my dorm, skipping my next class because I felt like it. I stopped by the campus store so I could buy a soda and a bag of chips and continued on my way. When I got to my room, I sat down on my bed and I checked my phone to see if I had gotten any messages. Nope. No messages. That was to be expected. I sighed and laid down. I thought about my other classes and thanked God that I was doing well in those classes. Killing one professor was exhausting enough. I need to work out more often.


I woke up in the middle of the night. Not because of anything in particular. I just woke up. I laid there in the dark for a few minutes staring at the ceiling, seeing if I would fall back asleep but I didn't. I felt the covers for my phone and found it. I switched on the screen and was temporarily blinded by the bright light emitting from the smartphone. I involuntarily hissed and quickly turned the brightness down.

I froze. Among the many YouTube and Twitter notifications was an email from one of my professors. The one who shouldn't be able to compose any emails. The subject line read: "Assignment #13 Deadline Pushed to Next Thursday". How did he send that email? He was dead. I mean, I made sure of that myself. I took some deep, steadying breaths, convincing myself that he must have composed that email beforehand and scheduled it to go out at 9:30pm. Yeah, that would have to be it. There was no way he was still alive. I put my phone on the bedside table and managed to drift back to sleep.


My phone's alarm woke me up late next morning. Groggily, I reached over to where I left my phone in the middle of the night. I dismissed the alarm and laid down for a few seconds before I sat up. I didn't have any class today so I took my time watching YouTube videos, only half paying attention to them as I was distracted by yesterday's events. I couldn't stop thinking about that email. What if my attempt was just that? An attempt. I decided that I would go to his office today to check to see if his body was still there. That is, if someone else hadn't found it first. I pulled on a fresh set of clothes, put on my sneakers, and set out to my professor's office.

When I got there, I found no one in the hallways. No police, campus or otherwise, and no hysterical students forever scarred after finding the corpse of their former professor. I started to calm down. I walked up to his door and knocked twice with no response. I turned the handle and opened the door. Relief flooded through me. There he was.

I stepped in his office and closed the door and when I turned to look at him, I noticed something. I could see that his neck was bruised blue and black from when I strangled him the day before but I noticed that he was wearing a jacket on top of the sweater he had been in yesterday. I stepped closer to him, keeping an eye on the part of his chest that wasn't covered by the jacket. That's when I smelled it. The smell of stale blood.

When I reached the front of his desk, I saw the dark color of partially dried blood on his shirt and I froze. Someone must have come after me and stabbed him. But why would anyone stab somebody who was already dead? I whipped around and ran out of his office, terrified of what I had just seen. I ran right into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

I sat in the corner, shaking and was there for what seemed like hours trying to calm down; I couldn't let other people see me like this or else they would know I had seen something horrifying. And I also wanted to distance myself from this as possible. Eventually, I slowed my breathing to its normal pace. I checked the time on my phone and saw that I had a new email. I opened it and started hyperventilating again. It was an email from my dead professor. The subject line read: "I Know What You Did...". I promptly deleted the email, trying to convince myself that my mind was playing tricks on me.

With a ding, I knew that I had another notification. I turned on the screen and sae that it was yet another email from that professor. This time, the subject line read: "Help Me. Open The Door". The second I finished reading it, I could hear a faint scratching at the door. I was paralyzed. Even if I wanted to escape, I couldn't. There was only one way in and out of the bathroom and I didn't want to find out what would happen if I tried opening that door. Suddenly, the scratching turned into knocking. Slow at first, but soon turned frantic. Tears of terror started flowing down my face as I struggled to not make a sound.

I got another notification on my phone and without checking, I knew it was another message from my deceased professor. I was too terrified to check it so I turned it off, stayed in the corner of the bathroom, on the floor, curled up in a ball on my side, still crying. The knocking was faster now. I started to hear whispers on the other side of the door but voice was too low for me to from where I was and I sure as HELL wasn't going to move any closer to that door. Even if I could manage to move. The knocking stopped and I gasped and covered my mouth. I could hear the whispering now. Whoever or whatever was on the other side of that door was saying let meee iiiiin over and over in a raspy voice. After a few minutes, I relaxed a little bit and the tears stopped. I mean, if this thing really could hurt me, it would've broken down the door and done it already. The second that thought crossed my mind, the whispering stopped.

BANG. I was as if someone had kicked the door. I gasped and my body tensed up again. I waited for an hour and when I was sure that the thing was gone, I uncurled myself and stood up, still shaky. I opened the door slowly and checked to see if I could see anything out of the ordinary. But I saw nothing. Not even any marks on the door. I picked up my phone, turned it back on, and stepped out of the bathroom. I had a few missed calls from my parents so I called them back. I talked to them for a couple of minutes while I walked back in the direction of my dead professor's office. I said goodbye and hung up when I was in front of his door.

I rested my hand on the doorknob, heart pounding hard and fast in my chest. I slowly opened the door and peeked inside. He wasn't there. HE WASN'T THERE. There weren't even any bloodstains on his chair. I slammed the door and started hyperventilating again. My phone chimed and I unlocked it to see a dozen emails from him. They had all been sent when I had locked myself in the bathroom. All of them had the same subject lines: "let me in". I deleted all twelve of the messages and I walked swiftly to my dorm. The second I stepped into the building, I got one last notification and my heart dropped. This time, the subject line read "see you in class tomorrow".

© 2019 HadesRising

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Oh wow very good loved this.

Posted 8 Months Ago

Great story liked it a lot

Posted 8 Months Ago

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2 Reviews
Added on July 9, 2019
Last Updated on July 9, 2019
Tags: Horror



London, United Kingdom

The cruelty wrought between lines of despair is but one with my own labored heart Favorite Poets/Writers Dani Filth, Jim Butcher, Kevin Hearne, Tolkien, more..


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