*Gasp* A book 3?! I thought you'd never ask! ;D
Epilogue from previous story (Which will be under construction as this one is written).
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Six years later at University of Cambridge…
College students gathered into the lecture hall, filling in the wooden seats eagerly ready to learn about advance Art History. Brand New Year, fresh new students…time to begin to crush spirits.
"Have you had this professor before?" One of the students asked another.
"No, but I heard she's a bit of a bitch." He replied. "A pretty tough class for Art History."
As the clock struck 8:05 the twenty-seven year old professor of the advance Art History class walked in, coffee and a stack of folders in hand. She dropped the folders on her large wooden desk and gulped a large sip of coffee before adjusting her glasses and scanning the room.
"Mmm." She grumbled to herself and sifted through her folders she dropped on her desk. "Advance Art History, huh?"
"If she doesn't know what class she's teaching, then we're all in trouble…" she heard one of the students whisper. There was an eruption of small giggles.
The professor looked up and locked gaze with the student. He immediately shrunk back in his seat after seeing the death glare her golden eyes shot him.
"Oh," she held her coffee as she walked around her desk to lean on the front of it. "I can already tell this'll be my favorite class. In case you little twats weren't informed this is Advance Art History not Arts and Crafts for Dummies." Her golden eyes flashed intimidatingly to each of the students. She witnessed each of them cringe and sweat nervously. "I will be a brutal, I will be a bitch. If you don't think you can handle it, I suggest you leave now." There were few weary faces, but no one dared move a muscle.
"Good." She sat on the front of her desk and took another swig of her coffee. "I am the worst professor you will ever have. Why is that? Because I'm not going to teach you anything. If something happens to stick. Good for you. I'm just going to tell you what I know. You can agree you can disagree. The only way you can fail this class is if you don't show up."
Her eyes zeroed in on the kid that commented before. "That means you too, Ringo Star." His mouth gapped in surprise at her sudden verbal attack, and reddened in the face.
She whirled around and strutted toward the very long chalkboard behind her desk and wrote her name in large print so the students could see it.
"I am Professor Daley-Earhart. Not Professor D.E., not 'Teach', I'm not your friend so you will call me by Prof. Daley-Earhart." She said and turned back to the class. "I will be your professor for advance Art History for the rest of this semester. I will haunt your dreams and will be the ghostly voice that will be keeping you up during your all nighters as you try to finish your 8-12 paged research papers which will be assigned every other week."
There were multiple groans from the lecture hall, which Professor Daley-Earhart grinned at.
"Ah." She said. "Music to my ears." Another sip of coffee. "Don't worry, I'll try making this as painless as possible…for me. You guys will be in a lot of pain. Class dismissed." She waved the students off. "I will be sending you all an email of your syllabus tonight. I suggest you all get emotionally prepared or immediately talk to your advisors about dropping my class. I don't want you wasting my time."
Most of the students nearly bolted from the room in fear, only five of the students remained whispering amongst themselves.
Professor Daley-Earhart glanced at the group, uninterested, and sat back down at her desk and sifted through her folders as she asked her Teacher Assistant to fetch her another strong coffee.
Finally, one of the five students approached the professor.
"Um, excuse me, Professor Daley-Earhart?" the boy said.
The professor spared him a curt glance as she scanned her pages. "Yes?"
"My friends and I were wondering something-"
"Out with it then." She snapped impatiently.
The boy flinched slightly. "Uh, we were wondering if we would be learning anything about Egyptian artifacts in this Art History class?"
Professor Daley-Earhart paused in her reading and looked up at the boy through her glasses. She eyed him up and down, almost sizing him up.
"We do a little bit. Why? Was there something specific you all wanted to know about?" she asked.
The boy handed the professor a piece of printer paper with a black and white image on it. The professor knew that image all too well.
"The Tablet of Ahkmenrah?" she raised an eyebrow. "We don't specifically talk about artifacts, mainly hieroglyphics." She would have instructed the group to visit it at the British Museum, but currently the tablet was with Ahkmenrah back in the states at the Museum of Natural History. "Why the interest?"
"We heard there was some sort of…rumor, I guess." The boy shrugged. "That the tablet made the dead come to life, like, Ahkmenrah would never be separated from his parents in the afterlife. Well, we think that there could be some sort of truth to it-"
"You just want more personal information on the tablet." The professor narrowed her eyes with amusement.
"Yes." The boy nodded sheepishly. "I know it sounds sort of silly-"
"Not at all." The professor pulled out a file from her bag and scribbled something on it. "There's going to be a guest lecturer tomorrow night in the History department, Larry Daley, you might have heard of him?"
"The Larry Daley?" a girl piped up from the group.
The professor smirked. "Yes, the Larry Daley. You can ask him any of your questions then." She handed the boy the piece of paper, then eyed him and the group almost fondly. "What're all your names?"
"Oh, I'm Harrison Beck, Prof-"
"Just call me Professor." She cut in impatiently.
"Uh, Professor," Harrison corrected himself. "I'm Harrison Beck, this is Beatrice Bryony, Alastair Augustine, Caspar Wilfred, and Darcia Vera."
"Mm." the professor eyed the group then smirked. "Have a nice rest of the day, ok?"
"We will, Professor." Harrison grinned and walked back to the group.
"Hopefully the rest of your classes won't be as awful as ours?" Beatrice offered a sympathetic smile.
"Oh, no, yours will be there worst." The professor said as she went back to work. "Isn't that right, Ringo Star?" she glanced at Caspar with a challenging stare. Her golden eyes were intimidating. "You and your remarks will be keeping me on my toes for the rest of the semester, won't they?"
Caspar grinned cheekily. "I'll stop if you want me to, Teach."
The professor glanced up from her work and sneered at the student.
"Ooo, you better watch yourself Caspar the Ghost," she warned. "You're poking the wrong bear."
Harrison and Darcia quickly stopped Caspar from retorting. Alastair nodded to the professor apologetically.
"Sorry, ma'am. He's a-"
"A really piece of work." She muttered and leaned back in her chair, a grin splayed across her face. "Maybe this class won't be so torturous after all. Get on out of my sight before I throw my coffee at the lot of you. Go on, scat."
The group ran off quickly leaving the professor grinning to herself.
"Here you are, Brooklyn." The TA returned with the professor's new coffee. "Is there anything else you need before I run off?"
"No, you can go Gen." the professor waved her off. "I'm good."
Brooklyn began to think after the group of students, wondering about their interest in the tablet…and she couldn't help but feel like something bad was going to happen.
