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▲'''Original text from ''The Visitor From Curtisville'', Chapter 14--What Little Remains''' Originally posted in Creepypasta wikia {{By|Mmpratt99 deviantart|user=yes}}
▲[[File:DisembodiedHand.0059-1024x576.jpg|thumb|340px]]
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.
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!
Throwing open the door, Arthur found a pale and shaking Wilkie in his nightshirt, wringing his purple-striped nightcap.
Wilkie grabbed the lapels of
Before Arthur could close the door, Wilkie scrambled across the threshold, shoving him aside.
Arthur regarded him skeptically.
As soon as Wilkie disappeared completely from view down the hall, Arthur slammed the door, locking it tight.
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He sighed wearily as he crawled back into bed and switched off the light. Typical for Wilkie to make a great to-do over such a small matter.
Soon he found himself yawning, his eyes getting heavier. He
''Mouse'', thought Arthur. ''Or perhaps even a rat. This old
For one long moment, he laid there with wide fixed eyes, clamping his gold plated teeth tight until he tasted the iron of his bitten tongue. Then he slowly reached out behind him and fumbled about the bedclothes. His groping fingers soon closed around something, something soft, something cold and rubbery. It felt like--
[[File:Scared_Guy_Main.jpg|right|300px]]
Then something tightly clutched his wrist.
Back in his room, Wilkie was having a hard time getting back to sleep. The current whereabouts of his ghostly roommate as well as the uneasy thoughts about
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.
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.
"Arthur--?"
▲ The End?
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