CHAPTER FIFTY NINE

Professor Ericson woke up with a gentle hammer that persisted at a soft and timely rhythm. He looked all around with his blurry vision, trying to remember where he was when the whiff of poop whacked his nostrils again and immediately, he remembered all that had happened.

In short, he had visited Francis for help and had been drugged to sleep. Thankfully, it wasn't poison.

Professor Ericson sniffed out the nasty foul from his nostrils as his eyes cleared even more, showing him the walls with peeling colour and white ceiling that had turned creamy with swipes here and there of grime that had accumulated over years.

His sense of touch came back to him and he felt the heated and very uncomfortable surface he was on. Gradually, he sat up and he remembered it as the cushion he sat on before he fainted. No wonder it was uncomfortable and extremely hurt.

A throat cleared and spoke up, “I was wondering when you