1931: Surprised

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Surprisingly, Caleb Withers managed to speak a name.

“Philip’s Hall.”

It took me a bit of time to get the blood and filth off my hands once I was done with him, but I managed to clean up nicely. My anger with Caleb and his school remained unsated. I would need gallons of blood to cool my temper, and even then, it might not do a whole helluva lot.

Still, Philip’s Hall sounded promising. I doubt the school kept its test products here on campus. Even if this particular version of Cross was fine with the experiments – which I doubted – no one would want to accidentally expose the tests to the general public.

As for Philip’s Hall, the Miskatonic in my version of Cross was lacking such a building, and so without a map or any indication as to where the building might be, I went out in search of it.

Fortunately, I didn’t see any others. That didn’t mean they weren’t watching from some safe location, but at least I wasn’t waiting for an attack.

I preferred being on the move.

As I followed the cobblestone paths of the campus, I caught a few students and faculty eying me. I knew some of them recognized me.

I didn’t worry too much about it. Instead, I made sure the Colts were loose in their holsters and ready to go.

After about half an hour of wandering, I found Philip’s Hall and knew it wouldn’t be easy to get into. I could see a pair of guards through the sidelights of the door, and as I made my way around the building, I could see others were watching from the higher floors.

These men were leaving nothing to chance.

Of course, they couldn’t have reckoned on me, the idiocy of their own, and my willingness to destroy them.

Yes, they had a version of me, but in my travels, I’ve discovered that few have lived up to my reputation of violence.

And I’m fine with that.

Finally, I returned to the front of the building and looked at it for a few moments.

With a sigh, I made my decision.

Walking up the front path, I climbed the steps, took out one of the Colts and struck the door hard in its center with the butt of a Colt. Drawing the other revolver, I waited.

As the door opened, I cocked the hammers back and greeted the guards.

#paranormal #mystery

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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