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Professor Brian Godfrey's love for cosplay and striking physical resemblance to Oscar Wilde does nothing to quell Marc's amorous feelings for him
Noticing the tears in Marc’s eyes, Professor Godfrey softened his approach. His long, slender fingers softly caressed Marc’s ruddy cheek.
“Ah, my dear, sweet, sensitive Marc,” he sighed. “Perhaps I came on too strong. Your gentle heart has borne the assaults of a rough world for too many years. I so wish I could unconditionally guarantee you safe haven here in Castle Necros, but, alas, such a promise is not mine to make. Come, my long-ago pupil, there is nothing for you to feel ashamed of. I approached you with too much zeal because I always felt camaraderie and, shall we say, fonder feelings where you were concerned. I acted in haste, and I am intensely sorry.”
“There’s nothing to feel sorry for, Professor Godfrey,” Marc sniffled.
“Brian, please. We are peers now. You have nothing to be ashamed of, my friend. Tell me, why does your heart ache so?”
“I feel as though my life has been a joke,” Marc explained, anger rising in his voice. “I feel as if I was some sort of cosmic joke. I was never handsome, and, although I enjoyed my studies well enough, I was never particularly intelligent. I was a plain-looking B to C student. I passed my classes and no-one regarded me as hideous when looking at me, but you would never have heard anyone say: ‘that Marc Cuming is one sharp cookie,’ or ‘Marc Cumming is one sharp dresser,’ or ‘Marc Cumming is so fine.’ On one hand, being unimpressive one way or another left me safe from being challenged because I was so incredibly non-threatening. On the other hand, being a nobody can be quite a depressing and lonely existence.”
“As it happens, I don’t think of you as a ‘nobody.’ I never did. I understood how you felt because I was always a rather retiring soul myself in my younger days. You impressed me, Marc. You had a zeal for discovery that I found refreshing and the fact that you actually heard what I said pleased me to no end. Most of the young men in my classes were far more interested in the girls than they were in a theatre geek who loved dressing in period costume.”
“I loved your passion for the subject matter,” Marc declared, his face brightening as he recalled his younger days. “Yes, it’s true that I had a crush on you, but apart from that, you made me want to learn. You were good at your job, Brian. You were, I think, the best teacher I ever had.”
“I have a confession to make, Marc. I think my wish that I could see you again may have ended up drawing you and your companions here.”
“Then it was a mutual wish because I think of you every day. I’m glad I got to talk to you again.”
Marc trembled as it seemed that his longtime unrequited crush on his favorite professor was about to be reciprocated. But just as Brian’s lips gently caressed Marc’s cheek, a blood-curdling wail filled the air.
“Crap! That’s my partner, Dale!” Marc exclaimed. “Come on, we need to find him!”
~Cie for Naughty Netherworld Press~
This is a chapter from Naughty Netherworld Press' WIP, Castle Necros. Marc Cumming is a middle-aged secret agent. Professor Brian Godfrey was his literature teacher during his senior year in college in 1984. The Professor has revealed himself to be a demon.
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