Cross and Miskatonic University: One


I will teach them the meaning of fear.

Ten men sit on the board of directors for the Cross branch of Miskatonic University.

I will kill them from last to first.

Doctor Alfonse Smyth is a saw-bones, a man who got away with murder while operating on POWs during the Great War. When he came back to America, he was well-suited to set up shop as a butcher in a private hospital just outside of Boston.

I know how he established himself in the university’s system and how he climbed and clawed his way onto the board of directors.

He provided victims for whatever brutal experiments the main campus thought necessary to engage in.

His mistake was coming to Cross and raising his hand against me.

He is the newest member of the board and thus the least among equals.

I find him in the sumptuous apartments he keeps in one of the buildings on campus. One they believe I don’t know about.

But there’s little I’m unaware of.

Especially now.

The Fey have been my ears, the ravens my eyes.

My hands will speak for me.

Standing outside the main door to his apartment, I can hear Smyth chatting with someone on the phone. Within ten minutes, his conversation is finished, and I hear him moving around.

The lock opens at a touch, and I slip inside.

I can hear the water running in the bathroom, and a moment later, I see him. He is naked, his flesh a sickly white.

I am unarmed, for my hatred and my hands are all the weapons I need.

In the space of a heartbeat, I am in the bathroom, stuffing a towel into his throat and gouging out his right eye as I drive him into the tub. It shakes on its clawed feet, and water splashes across my boots. I jerk out the towel, and as he gasps for breath, preparing to scream, I thrust his eye into his mouth and force him to swallow it.

When he realizes what he’s just eaten, Smyth faints, but hot water in his empty eye socket shocks him back to consciousness. When he tries to scream, I clamp my hand over his mouth and shake my head.

 “We’ll have all night for that,” I tell him, and he faints again.

Smiling, I thrust my thumb into the empty socket and help him wake up.

#horror #fear

Published by

Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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