Sweat. No. Tears, that captured the entire scene of their owner's departure, finally hit the ground and…
*SLAM!!*
"Good afternoon, everyone."
A man that looked like he was in his late 30's/early 40s came barging in through the lecture room double doors with a force that sent them straight into their respective sides of the wall, making the bronze door knobs, with smooth and subtle markings revolving around them giving off an air of high quality, eat away at the already existent dent in the wall, which acted as an indicator of how many times that had happened already.
His face looked like it hadn't been shaven for weeks or even months while the creases and wrinkles all over his forehead didn't help his sluggish look either. Every step he took caused his belly, that bulged and stuck out over the tight belt around his waist, to flop in different directions. The top of his head was shining bald while black messy hair ran down the sides of his temple. Honestly, calling him a man was a compliment as everyone who saw him was reminded more of a particular pig walking on its two hind legs than an actual human being…
Without even stopping to look around him, he made his way through to the middle of the lecture room just to walk up a couple of steps that ushered him onto a mini podium, on which the professors stood to have a better look at the entire class of students while teaching them. A big rectangular projector screen, the length and width like that of a well-known cinema movie screen, with dozens of seats situated around the room — straight across from the podium and screen — in rows of ascending order, made for a room that looked like it had come straight out of a congress.
Carrying what looked like a particularly heavy bag, evident from his constant wheezing and dishevelled looks, he swung sideways across his chest, after having reached the very front of the podium, with great effort and finally rested the bag upon a mini table. From the anticlimactic thump sound that the bag had produced after being practically dumped unto the table, it would make someone, looking from afar, contemplate whether the bag was actually heavy or if it was due to the man having stamina akin to that of a fish out of water.
The man, Jackson Odilleson, 35, was the 1st year's head professor and the elder brother of Jason Odilleson. Just from his external appearance, he looked the complete opposite of his younger brother, who looked much more handsome and athletic.
After having a few seconds to re-organise himself, Jackson turned around and swept his gaze through his class, his expression turning a tad bit taut when it finally landed on Aves' side.
"Mr. Odilleson, care to explain why you are so close to Mr. Glotterman? Your seat is on the other side of the room if my memory serves me correct, of course." Although Jackson spoke with a slight smile on his face, one could hear the tension and authority in his voice.
The two Odilleson brothers looked completely opposite to each other and surprisingly it wasn't in appearance only, but also their personalities. The two had one thing in common though, and that was fact that both had personalities that didn't match their appearances.
After hearing what his older brother said, Jason simply turned around, smiled lightly at his waste of a brother and merely replied, "No need to be so stiff, bro. Little Aves here and I were reminiscing on the good ol' times back in high school when you just had to come and ruin the fun."
After that, he simply walked away while secretly shooting a glare at Jackson out of the corner of his eyes. The two of them had a complicated history which was evident to all, judging by how they treated each other.
While Jackson thought that what his younger brother was doing wasn't befitting of a college student, and even thought he appeared more childish than anything, the latter wished that his older brother hadn't even existed. After all, Jason was a person who focused on his appearance and reputation within college even more than his studies. So, of course, having a brother who looked scary on a good day didn't exactly help boost his popularity.
Hearing Jason's reply and attitude, Jackson gave a silent sigh, albeit a heavy one.
After making it most of the way back to his seat, as if on que, Jason's lackeys let out a cringey snicker before heading off to their seats as well. One of them however, looked a bit lost as he started looking around the room, as if in search for a good place to sit.
Before he even got to the seat that he had chosen in passing, Prof. Jackson's voice reached his ears, "Can you please tell me the names of the professors who are normally responsible for your lectures, David?" Even though the question came off in a polite enough manner, one could tell the anger seeping through Jackson's voice when he addressed David with his first name.
His heart skipping a beat, David calmed himself down before asking, "Their names?"
"Yes, their names, David."
As if knowing where this conversation was going to lead to, David locked his gaze firmly with Jackson's and answered, "Can't remember all of their names but you aren't on that list, that's for sure."
The already quiet room had now turned colder as everyone's distracted gaze all swivelled back and forth between Jackson and David. Jason, on the other hand, who had already taken his seat, lightly nodded his head as if to say, 'Worthy of being my lackey. Good response.'
Having maintained his position as a professor for 15 years, Jackson kept his calm smiling expression even though he was fuming on the inside. Despite David's efforts to antagonise him, he wouldn't show his anger. After all, raging at a student was beneath a professor's pride and dignity.
To Jackson, there were many ways he could vent his anger at a student, but shouting at them wasn't one of them.
No. To deal with this David guy, shouting would do nothing but ruin his image and provide his younger brother, Jason, a good show filled with satisfaction. So, he chose the most efficient method to let David know his place and replied with a cold smile, "You may not know all your teachers' names, but I do for some of them. In fact, one of my best friends and colleague, Prof. Hamsville, one of the teachers responsible for your classes, has invited me to have a brief discussion later on. I just thought it would be a shame, when the time comes, to tell him about all your useless meandering, and how you attend classes that are unrelated to you whatsoever… Or is it—" Without even waiting for the petrified David to interject, Jackson continued on with an even wider smile, "that you think you are well endowed enough to be handling Medicine classes on top of your usual classes, in which case I can definitely inform Prof. Hamsville about that. I am sure he'll definitely do his best to individually and specifically test your perfect 'knowledge'."
Whatever smugness and confidence David carried just a few seconds ago was completely wiped off his face, as he started regretting even being there at that moment.
Before he could even muster a reply however, Jackson had already started placing the final cherry on the cake, "If you feel like betting all your future on that one test later on, then feel free to grace us with your presence for the rest of this period. If not, then I think it's high time for you to leave my classroom."
And as if he was a plebian who got given a sentence only to be pardoned right after, David escaped the room. Of course, not forgetting to accidentally bump into a chair on the way out.
With a slightly triumphant expression on his face, Jackson turned his gaze back to Jason, who looked like he had swallowed a fly, and beckoned silently, 'That all you've got?'
All he got in response was silence, however.
After finally having deemed that the level of authority he gave off was satisfactory, and that no one would try pulling off any similar shenanigans in the near future, Jackson finally asked the question that had been on his mind for the past 30 seconds, "Mr. Glotterman, how long exactly are you going to stay standing there for? The lecture is about to start."
Without even bothering to take a second look at Aves, Jackson started unpacking his equipment onto the podium while expecting a reply of acknowledgement or at least a shuffle indicating that Aves was getting a move on, but none of that came even after a few seconds had passed by…
Furrowing his eyebrows, he lifted his head up only to see Aves standing still with his mouth gaped slightly. Maybe it was because things hadn't been going well since he came through those doors, or maybe it was because of Aves' pathetic display, but he couldn't help the irritation bubbling up inside him as he spoke sharply, "I see that everyone today seems to have some pent-up humour they'd like to release, seeing as to how you're still standing there like a clown. Isn't that right, Mr. Glotterman?"
At this point, everyone's focus, including Jason's, was on Aves, as even after being directed multiple questions of increasing intensity, he still remained unresponsive. It was only now that everyone was paying attention to him that, as if jolting out of a stupor, Aves responded with an almost shivering tone, "C-can you repeat that again, sir?"
"I said—" Cutting himself off before he could repeat himself, Jackson's already furrowed eyebrows creased even further as he noticed some irregularities, though he couldn't be sure what they were as he was pretty far away from Aves.
And just as if sensing that something was wrong in the tone of Aves' voice earlier, Jackson slowly made his was way down the podium to take a closer look at Aves. It wasn't only Jackson who had noticed something, as a few, who were only a couple tiles away from Aves, noticed that he now looked much paler than usual, with a pool of sweat matting his forehead.
"Is everything okay, Aves?" Jackson asked as soon as he spotted Aves' concerning condition. He then turned around to face Jason's direction and eyed him questioningly, only to be received with a similarly confused expression by his younger brother. Jason had also belatedly realised that something was wrong, but he didn't know what, as he was on the opposite side of the theatre-sized, lecture room.
Bewildered by the sudden reversal in 'scenery' — it could've even been 'dimension' instead for all he knew — back to normal, Aves took a couple of seconds to gather himself and calm his wits before he replied in the calmest voice he could muster, "Yes, I'm fine. Just got a little dizzy, that's all."
It was also shortly after that he finally noticed that it wasn't only the professor who was boring drills into him with his gaze, but the entire class as well.
"Are you sure you don't need some fresh air or something? The display screen will take a few minutes to start up; it's fine if you want to go take a short breather and come back."
"Thanks for your concern, sir, but I'm fine." Before Jackson could further point out that he wasn't looking healthy however, Aves had already started picking his belongings up from the floor and placed them onto his desk. It was clear that Aves didn't want whatever conversation they had going on to continue, and fortunately, Jackson didn't either.
After letting out an audible sigh this time, Jackson reminded him one last time to feel free to leave the room if he ever needed to before dragging his fat legs back to the podium. Honestly, if it hadn't been for the fact that Aves reminded him of the past where he used to get bullied for his body size, Jackson wouldn't have pitied and tried to help him.
He knew, though, that the world was a tough place and that survival of the fittest applied even in this technologically advanced environment. So, no matter how much he tried to help him, it wouldn't matter if Aves didn't help himself. Fortunately, it seemed as if Aves knew that already, evident by the fact that he chose to stay instead of skipping the lecture after feigning illness.
Unbeknownst to Jackson, however, was the fact that Aves hadn't left the room for an entirely different reason. In fact, if he could leave the room, he would've done so the moment he got out of that nightmare-like stupor. But for some reason, even though that scary phase had already passed, it felt like his body still had not recovered from its former state of pseudo-paralysis and, try as he might, he could barely move a single step.
Curiously, it was a bit different from the sensation he felt earlier when he couldn't move throughout that vision. He was certain that he was already past that scary phase he was in earlier, as he could manage to move his legs now, albeit in a very shaky manner. That was it, though. He could move them, but he probably couldn't walk on them. That was unless he wanted to face-plant the floor beneath him.
His movement, or the lack thereof, was the least of Aves' concerns at the moment, however. No, it was the head-splitting pain stemming from the very core of his skull that was occupying most of his attention. It took every ounce of his being to simply lean his head against his desk while cupping his face with his hands and trying not to dig his fingers into his forehead.
It was a different kind of pain than what he was accustomed to when having a migraine or any other similar symptoms. If he had to put a proverbial finger on what it felt like, he would liken it to a metal being slowly but agonizingly seared into his brain. He couldn't be sure however, since it was hard enough for him to even formulate a single thought under that torture. He was sure of one thing though, and that was the fact that what was happening to him right now was definitely related to that vision he saw earlier, since it had occurred to him shortly after he finished speaking to Jackson.
It couldn't have been related to anything otherwise because, prior to that unique experience, he was as fit as a fiddle.
After what seemed like the longest 'try not to cry out loud' contest on the face of Earth, the pain finally subsided somewhat, allowing him to have a brief moment of clarity in which he chose to look up from his desk to check the clock on the wall to his side.
Half an hour had gone by. The lecture was still running, Prof. Jackson was robotically teaching as usual, and it didn't seem as if any of his classmates had noticed anything unusual happening to him which made him sigh in relief. They couldn't be blamed though, since half of them were struggling to even stay awake through the monotonous lesson. In fact, Aves' act of laying his head on his desk for half the lesson made him blend more into the theme of the room rather than stick out.
He subtly looked around the room to pick up any signs of abnormalities; any left-over signs indicating that what had happened was real, if you will.
Unfortunately, he came up short. Everything that had happened; from the creepy expressions, to the weird movements; they all seemed to have happened in his head.
'Was it an illusion?' Aves wondered to himself. It certainly didn't seem nor feel like it. He would have liked to think about it some more, but the pain somewhat crippled his train of thought.
It wasn't until there was 5 minutes left for the lecture to end that his headache had completely disappeared. Aside from the slight nausea, that he could only assume was a leftover symptom, he was completely fine. He could move his body around just fine as well. It was as if what he had gone through earlier hadn't happened at all.
'I wonder what that was all about. Should I just excuse myself and go home? I still have a couple of lectures left, but I'm kind of afraid of that happening again.'
In the end, after some internal debate, he decided that he would pack his things up and leave for his dormitory to take a nap.
If there was one defining feature that Aves had to point out about himself, it was that he was diligent and very hard-working. If he could, he would attend all his lectures in order to make sure he didn't miss out on anything. But no matter how diligent he was, the haunting fear that vision had left him, of being in the middle of a crowd of people with creepy faces probably out to kill him, was enough to make him rethink his situation and resign to his bed for the rest of the day.