Shadows Out of Time

“I can’t divulge much at this time,” he said. “There’s a nondisclosure agreement you’ll have to sign, and then I can fill you in. I just need to know if you’re interested, and then we can make an appointment to get started.”

“I am, absolutely.” Her mind sorted through all the exciting possibilities. There was no shortage of topics to study in the field of neurology, or diseases to better understand, from cerebral palsy to autism, Rett syndrome, neurodegeneration…

“Excellent,” Vaughan said, leaning back in his chair. “However, I must ask you not to mention this to anyone. Best to consider the NDA already in effect, all right?”

“No problem,” she said. “I can sign it right now if you want.”

“Not yet. I’ll contact you when we’re ready to begin.”

He pushed his chair back and stood up, indicating that their conversation was over. Emily gathered her belongings, rose, and slung her backpack over her shoulder. On the professor’s desk was a framed photo showing a pretty, brown-haired woman smiling for the camera while two small boys clung shyly at her legs. Vaughan’s family, she supposed, although it was hard to imagine her stodgy, sweater-wrapped professor chasing after two little boys—

“Good day, Miss Bannerman,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. He was holding the office door open, letting in the cool air from outside.

As she turned to go, her eye caught the door in the wall again.

“Professor,” she ventured, “where does that door go?”

He looked at her for what seemed like a beat too long and smiled thinly. “Nowhere. It’s just a small closet for the heating pipes. Why?”

“No reason,” she said, but she thought his answer was odd. She could imagine an access panel in the wall to reach the pipes, but a door?

“You’re a liar!”

Emily straightened. The voice had sounded close, as though it were in the office with them, but nobody else was there.

“Is something the matter, Miss Bannerman?”

“No, everything’s fine.” She gave a quick smile and hurried out. She’d heard a voice, she was sure of it. The same woman’s voice she’d heard in the classroom. The same voice apparently no one else could hear.

I’m cracking up, she thought. She wouldn’t be the first premed student to buckle under the pressure. But something about the voice seemed so real.

That night, in her dorm room, with her roommate gone for the night, Sean kissed her passionately and backed her onto her bed. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he said.

“Hold on,” she told him as he kissed her neck. “I have to tell you something. Professor Vaughan asked me to work with him on a new project. He wouldn’t tell me what it is, though.”

He looked up at her. “Yeah, he asked me, too. Something about the brain, I think. I’m supposed to drop by his office tomorrow to sign something.”

“Tomorrow?” she asked. That was fast. Why hadn’t Professor Vaughan asked her to come back tomorrow, too? She felt a little irritated that he’d already made plans for Sean to sign the papers but not her. But then Sean started kissing her again, and any disappointment she felt was quickly forgotten.

What’s left of my body if I have no eyes, no ears, no mouth? Do I have any physical form at all?

Now that the shock of finding myself here has passed, I’m starting to remember bits and pieces. The body on the table, the hypodermic needle, that grotesque, inhuman thing hiding in the shadows…

Oh God, this can’t be real, can it?

Emily expected Sean to come see her right after his meeting with Professor Vaughan. She was eager to hear all about the mysterious project they would be working on. Even if he’d signed the NDA, she knew she’d get the information out of him eventually. Sean was never very good at keeping things from her. She waited all day, checking her phone for text messages and emails. She ate lunch and dinner alone in the dining hall, waiting for him to show. By nine o’clock that night, she sent what had to be her fifteenth text.

where r u? seriously, r u ok?

She stayed awake as long as she could, clutching the phone like a lifeline, but no reply came. She drifted off toward dawn, woke again just a couple of hours later, and immediately checked her phone. Still nothing.

What if he was sick? She imagined Sean in his bed, wrapped in covers, sweating with fever, his phone somewhere out of reach. But a visit to his dorm room revealed a bed that hadn’t been slept in, and Sean’s roommate hadn’t seen him. He hadn’t come to her room, and he hadn’t returned to his own. So where was he?