CHAPTER FIFTY THREE

It had been days since professor Ericson got to the human civilization nearest to Golden Lake University which was roughly some tens of kilometres away; New Cresthill, but since his arrival, he had not accomplished the reason he had stopped in such a shabby town when he could easily have moved to big cities and metropolises such as Cleethorpes, MillerVille or even Hillfar where he had grown with his aged parents before leaving them one night to a university located in the middle of an almost impenetrable woodland where he was told he will meet people like him, Werewolves.

Upon driving out of the sheets after sheets of wood, trees, shrubs after a painful thirty-hour drive with little to no rest, he disposed the car which was battered to pulp next to some factory with peeling walls and wobbly infrastructure and got for himself a second-rate hotel room on one of the most notorious streets, Knife's Edge.

On his first night, he slept for about fifteen ho