Hand of Glory: Difference between revisions
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Someone seemed to be in trouble. Arthur Gerhardt, First Class Professor in magic and spells, could hear the faint cries coming through the blankets surrounding his balding head.
There was a hammering coming from somewhere, loud and urgent. Arthur’s first impression was that there was a donkey stamping and braying in the hall; and then he discarded the thought as simply ridiculous, and that it had to be something terrible like fire, or an earthquake, or else a plague of demons. Then it began to dawn on him that there was a maniac knocking on the walls and doors with a crowbar.
There was complete silence. Well, that was quick, Arthur thought. Not at all like the police to come so quickly; must have been the hotel detective.
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No sooner did he poke his head out then the noise started all over.
Now the nutter was knocking with what sounded to him like a sledgehammer.
Groggily, Arthur sat up and rubbed his eyes. Slowly it dawned upon him that the raving lunatic banging at the door was none other than his ghoulish colleague and often-times rival Wilkie Grierson .
The door rocked on its hinges.
Alright, I will!” Arthur shouted irritably as he stormed to the door.
Throwing open the door, Arthur found a pale and shaking Wilkie in his nightshirt, wringing his purple-striped nightcap.
Wilkie grabbed the lapels of Arthur’s pajamas and shook him until his gold teeth rattled.
Before Arthur could close the door, Wilkie scrambled across the threshold, shoving him aside.
Arthur regarded him skeptically.
”Yeah, that’s right. Disembodied but smooth all over except for the wrist part which had a ragged cut.” The ghoul shuddered. ''Who would do that to a kid?''
As soon as Wilkie disappeared completely from view down the hall, Arthur slammed the door, locking it tight.
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Now just when he was getting ready to doze off and drift into dreamland, there came that infuriating knocking.
Thinking it was the spook returning, he snapped,
No reply came same for more persistent knocking.
Wilkie’s grew livid.
Bolting up, he stormed to the door and squinted through the peephole. He stepped back in startled surprise. Peering right back was a drawn and haggard, yet familiar face. He threw open the door.
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