Professor Gargoyle

EIGHTEEN





The next afternoon, Robert, Glenn, and Karina met for lunch in the cafeteria. It was a beautiful day, and sunlight streamed through the windows.

All around them, hundreds of seventh- and eighth-graders were eating pizza and hot dogs and tater tots, oblivious to the bizarre world that was under their feet and just beyond their reach. The cafeteria hummed with laughter and chatter. It was just another Thursday afternoon at Lovecraft Middle School.

Glenn held a bag of gummy worms under Robert’s nose. “You want some?”

“Sure.” He took two and dropped them into his backpack, where Pip and Squeak were already sharing a grilled cheese sandwich.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you guys,” Glenn said. “Why do you think Azaroth wanted Pip and Squeak so badly? I mean, why make such a big deal over a two-headed rat?”

“Because they’re awesome,” Robert said, reaching into the backpack and scratching his pets behind the ears. They still insisted on traveling with Robert everywhere he went; they accompanied him to school during the day and slept in his bedroom at night. Like bodyguards.

Glenn turned to Karina. “And what about the real Professor Goyle? Is he still trapped inside the mansion?”

“Yes.”

“Can he ever come back?”

She shook her head. “Impossible. Unless someone defeats Crawford Tillinghast. Which is another way of saying it’s impossible.”

Robert wasn’t so sure. Three weeks ago, he would have said that talking to ghosts was impossible. Two-headed rats were impossible. Having Glenn Torkells as his new best friend was impossible.

If there was one thing Robert had learned in three weeks at Lovecraft Middle School, it’s that nothing was impossible.

“Maybe someone just needs to stand up to him,” Robert said, smiling at Karina. “How much do you know about this guy?”

“Man, listen to you!” Glenn exclaimed. “Yesterday we were nearly eaten alive by a million baby spiders and today you’re talking about charging through a gate and fighting Tillinghast? Can’t we just relax for a few weeks and do some normal school stuff for a change? Like classes and homework and detention?”

Robert grinned. “That’s fine with me. For the next month we’ll do nothing but regular schoolwork. No more gates, no more spying on teachers, no more getting lost in the library.”

“And no more tentacles,” Karina added.

“Thank you,” Glenn said, and they all laughed.

In spite of everything that happened, Robert was feeling good about himself. Sure, he’d never be like the characters in his favorite books, the kids with secret superpowers to help them escape any situation. But that was okay. He had started the school year with zero friends, and now he had three—or four, depending on how you counted Pip and Squeak.

Whatever weird things happened at Lovecraft Middle School, at least he wouldn’t have to face them alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a microphone humming to life. Principal Slater had climbed onto the stage at the far end of the cafeteria to address the students.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” she said. “Can you please quiet down for a minute? I have some important announcements to make.”

Principal Slater adjusted the microphone, cleared her throat, and continued. “First, I’m very sorry to announce that one of our faculty members, Professor Garfield Goyle, has taken an indefinite leave of absence. Professor Goyle has been teaching in Dunwich for nearly thirty years and he will be greatly missed. I’m sure many of you have questions, but at this point I do not have many answers. I found his letter of resignation on my desk this morning, so I’m still trying to understand the situation myself. I hope you’ll join me in wishing Professor Goyle the best of luck.”

There was a smattering of polite applause.

“Now for the good news,” Principal Slater continued. “I’m thrilled to announce that Sarah and Sylvia Price returned home last night! The girls are completely safe, so you don’t have to worry anymore. Please join me in welcoming them back to Lovecraft Middle School!”

Sarah and Sylvia climbed the steps to the stage, and everyone in the cafeteria applauded. The girls looked just like Robert remembered them. They smiled and waved to their classmates.

“Now I know everyone has questions, but I’m asking you to respect Sarah and Sylvia’s privacy and let them talk when they’re ready.” She turned to the twins. “For now, girls, is there anything you’d like to say to your classmates?”

Sarah took the microphone and spoke in a flat, monotone voice. “It is nice to be back at Lovecraft Middle School. We must remember, classmates, that everything happens for a reason.” She passed the microphone to her sister.

“That’s exactly right,” Sylvia agreed, in the same lifeless drone. “There are forces in this world we cannot comprehend. It is wrong to question the wisdom of the Great Old Ones.”

Principal Slater nodded and smiled politely. “Well, yes,” she said. “I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it’s wonderful to have you back. Another big round of applause for Sarah and Sylvia Price!”

The cafeteria erupted with cheers. Sarah and Sylvia waved and smiled and then carried their lunch trays into the crowd. Plenty of kids moved out of their way, clearing a path, offering seats at their tables.

But Sarah and Sylvia ignored them. They weaved their way through the room, passing tables with girls and tables with boys and even tables that were completely empty. They seemed to be walking toward one table in particular.

“Oh, I don’t believe it,” Glenn muttered.

“Believe it,” Karina grinned.

“So much for nice, normal school stuff,” Robert sighed.

Finally, Sarah and Sylvia Price reached the table where Robert and his new friends were eating lunch.

Together, the sisters gestured to the empty chairs.

Then they asked:

“Are these seats taken?”





Turn the Page for a Sneak Preview of

THE SLITHER SISTERS

Tales from Lovecraft

Middle School #2

BY CHARLES GILMAN

Slithering into bookstores in January 2013!



“This is the place,” Karina announced.

Robert was confused. She had promised to bring him to a swimming pool. Instead she had led him to a door labeled “The Wilbur Whately Memorial Natatorium.”

“What happened to the pool?” he asked.

“This is the pool,” Karina explained. “A natatorium is a room with a pool inside it.”

Glenn opened the door. “Holy cow.”

Lovecraft Middle School had the biggest indoor swimming pool any of them had ever seen, fifty meters long and bathed in sunshine from skylights cut into the tall, arched ceiling. There were ten lanes for swimming, three platforms for diving, and a pair of empty lifeguard stands.

Robert, Glenn, and Karina were alone in the natatorium, but they wouldn’t be for long. Sarah and Sylvia Price were due to arrive any moment.

“Where can we hide?” Robert asked, looking around. The air in the natatorium tickled the back of his throat. It was warm and humid and reeked of chlorine.

“Over here,” Karina called.

Spanning the length of the pool were rows of metal bleachers for coaches, parents, and other spectators. Karina had already climbed behind the stands. It was a tight squeeze for Robert and even worse for Glenn; they had to crouch down on all fours to squeeze through.

“What if a teacher catches us?” Glenn asked.

“Don’t worry,” Karina said. “As long as we don’t move, no one’s going to see us.”

It was true: To anyone looking at the bleachers, the kids were virtually invisible, camouflaged by the benches and rails and supports.

From their hiding place, Robert could see only the very surface of the water, as clear and still as glass.

“You’re sure they’re definitely coming?” Robert asked.

“They’re here every day before lunch,” Karina said. “The question is, why.”

Robert wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer. The last time he tried spying on someone, he’d witnessed his science teacher, Professor Goyle, eating a live hamster.

Moments later, Sarah and Sylvia emerged from the locker room, dressed in simple one-piece swimsuits and chatting pleasantly. To anyone watching, they appeared to be perfectly ordinary sisters. But to anyone listening, they sounded like snorting, snarling lunatics.

“Yh’nghai tsathogua dho-na,” said Sarah.

Sylvia smiled. “Y’golonac chaugnar faugn.”

“Hgulet tcho-tcho, ep hgulut shaggai.”

It was the same bizarre language that Professor Goyle had spoken—but what did it mean? Robert had no idea.

The sisters had reached the edge of the pool and were preparing to dive in when Sylvia stopped, scowled, and raised her hand. “Gnai Glaacki!”

Both girls glanced around the natatorium, as if suddenly realizing they weren’t alone.

Together, they approached the bleachers.

A long forked tongue unfurled from Sarah’s mouth, purple and black and eight inches long. It flickered this way and that, as if she were somehow testing the air. Robert remembered learning that snakes used their tongues to detect smell. He forced himself to remain absolutely still, hoping all the chlorine in the natatorium would mask his scent.

And it must have, because after a few moments Sarah retracted her tongue, satisfied they were alone.

“Shai Shabblat?” Sylvia asked.

“Y’ai zhro,” Sarah replied.

Together they raised their arms above their heads and then dove into the deep end. Robert watched the water lapping against the edges of the pool, the waves slowly ebbing until once again the surface was as clear and still as glass.

“What are they doing?” Glenn whispered.

“Shhh,” Robert said.

He was counting off the seconds—forty-one, forty-two, forty-three—wondering how long Sarah and Sylvia could stay underwater before surfacing for air. Robert counted all the way to three hundred before stopping.

“How long can you hold your breath?” he asked Glenn.

“I don’t know. A minute? Maybe two,” Glenn answered. “They’ve been down there for five.”

“They’re not human,” Karina reminded him. “Some reptiles can stay underwater for hours.”

“Right,” Robert said. “But why? What are they doing under the water?”

No one had the answer to that question.

“We need to see what they’re up to,” he said. “There has to be a reason they come here every day.”

Robert squeezed out from behind the bleachers and crept toward the pool. He wanted to glimpse the sisters without being seen—but they remained just out of view. He had no choice but to step right up to the edge of the water.

“Glenn? Karina?” he called. “You can come out.”

His friends rushed to his side and looked down into the pool. Apart from several hundred thousand gallons of water, it was empty.

“What happened?” Glenn asked.

“They vanished,” Robert said.

Karina shook her head. “They crossed over,” she said. “This must be how they get back to Tillinghast. There must be a gate at the bottom.”

Robert realized she was right. It would explain why Sarah and Sylvia returned to the pool every day: They were traveling back and forth between Lovecraft Middle School and Tillinghast Mansion.

He sat down at the edge of the pool, unlaced his sneakers, and pulled off his socks.

Glenn knelt beside him. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Robert asked.



About the Author

Charles Gilman is an alias of Jason Rekulak, an editor who lives in Philadelphia with his wife and children. When he’s not dreaming up new tales of Lovecraft Middle School, he’s biking along the fetid banks of the Schuylkill River, in search of two-headed rats and other horrific beasts.

About the Illustrator

From an early age, Eugene Smith dreamed of drawing monsters, mayhem, and madness. Today, he is living the dream in Chicago, Illinois, where he resides with his wife, Mary, and their daughters Audrey and Vivienne.

Monstrous Thanks

Doogie Horner, John McGurk, Ron Fladwood, Jane Morley, Jason Heller, Jennifer Jackson, Mariah Fredericks, Steve Hockensmith, Jen Adams, Nicole De Jackmo, Eric Smith, David Borgenicht, Brett Cohen, Moneka Hewlett, Mary Ellen Wilson, Julie Scott, and Mary Flack.