Professor Garlick Mod Novels & Stories

Laura panicked, hurriedly rushing her tiny dagger through her pockets as a clean cut crossed her thighs. "Ahh…" she yelped. "Clink…Clanks…" The dagger dropped to the ground. "What was that?" King Snow asked curiously. Maester Gryfield's eyes suddenly sank into its sockets as horror crossed his mind. "Someone's in there," he said. "Quickly, go check who it is. Take this, it's garlic. He's a vampire. The smell of garlic will put him still as they despise it." He gave the garlic to a middle-aged healer.

"What about 4-eyes and carrot top here?" The two felt threatened. "They are with me." replied Professor Althea. "These are Sebastian Revius and Margarette Gunnar." "Gunnar... Sounds familiar" General Muller scratches his stubbly chin, "ah yes, Gunnar Knights, and this is... Revius..." he suddenly brightened up, "Oh, the young Silver! That makes my job easier then!" The professor suddenly kicks his shins. "OW!" he yelled, accompanied with several explicits, "What is it now, woman!"

"So how's everything?" "Still torture," I said truthfully. "But I'm getting better at it now." "You are," she agreed in a quiet tone. For some reason, her approval made me smile with pride. Then, Ms. Grace, our professor appeared. She wore her usual lab coat with a lab goggle hanging around her neck. Her bright crimson lips pressed together with a serious look. Ms. Grace is the youngest professor in this school. She got her Ph.D. when she was only twenty, so I really looked up to her. Biology is the only class I take alone since Cammie and Alyssa also have their favorites.

"This is for you." The pack watched in grim silence as Taehyung repeated the act on the left hand, another scream tearing from Garrick's throat, his stumps bleeding profusely. "Please... stop..." Garrick sobbed, his voice breaking. Taehyung signaled to a guard, who brought forward a vial of clear liquid—acid, I realized with horror. "Lips that threatened hers—burned." He uncorked it, forcing Garrick's jaw open with one hand. "Open wide." The acid poured onto his lips and tongue, sizzling on contact, smoke rising as flesh dissolved. Garrick's screams turned to gargled howls, his body convulsing in agony, the smell of burning skin filling the air.

anyone but— She heard the knock on the door. “Come on in, Professor,” Hargrove said. “I’d like you to meet someone.” She didn’t have to turn to know who it was. The clean, dark, and annoyingly intoxicating cologne she’d recognize anywhere filled her nose. Her pulse pounded in her throat. She turned around slowly. Professor Jason stepped inside fully, closing the door quietly behind him. He wore a charcoal suit today, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders, the tie a deep navy that matched the flecks in his eyes.

the voice said. A wicked smile spread across my face as I replied, "Long time, Professor." Derick's curiosity piqued, and he glanced at me with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. He stepped on the accelerator, causing the car to speed off, as if mirroring the velocity of our thoughts. We drove through the city streets, our destination clear in our minds. The Professor, an enigmatic figure known for his expertise in chemistry and concocting extraordinary solutions, was our trump card. We needed his help to turn the tables on Blake and his cohorts.

There Helma was, rocking a makeup tutorial live stream, racking up millions of fans, and even snagging a Greenville charity award. That mortician gig Madam Guller once sneered at? It got a shoutout from the bigwigs at Yaxtria. Now, Helma was dazzling everyone on the show, moonlighting as the enigmatic scent wizard, Lilac. Madam Guller's feelings were all over the place, her shock outdoing even the live chat's frenzy. They did not have a clue that Helma was also the famed Professor Harlana, a star in the academic world!

Time for more fun with freaky professors. Professor Dravik Thornhall stood at the front of the room, his ,greasy hair slicked back like he’d just stepped out of a discount vampire movie, his robes rumpled and stained with something I prayed wasn’t soup. Or blood. Honestly, could’ve been either. “Today,” he said with a slither of a smile, “we began the most sacred practice of spellcasting, connecting with your core magic.” He actually licked his lips. Ugh. I visibly shuddered. Aster leaned over and muttered, “Ten bucks saya he has a collection of enchanted toenails in his office.”

Maybe he will apply for the Fortune Telling Class for this skill in guessing things. With Lucas now behind, he can't help but stare at the scalp of the professor. The old man looked like he had a grasp of what Lucas was laughing about. He gave him a narrow stare. "I'm a Fire Starter. I want to improve my skills." Lucas abruptly replied as he walked with the professor on a tiptoe. He felt a pang of sudden guilt after finding his appearance funny. But still, he can't help it. That Rick and Morty meme peeling the wall… it reminded on his mind.

Jack pats her shoulder, his face twisted in fake concern. I should feel something sympathy, worry but all I can think is: Now who’s going to tell me my art is empty? The dean gestures to the stranger beside her. "This is Mr. Laurent. He’ll be your substitute instructor for the remainder of the semester." And that’s when I finally look at him. Jerome Laurent is not what I expected. Young too young to be a professor, maybe late twenties with tousled dark hair and a sharp jaw shadowed by stubble. He’s dressed in all black: fitted slacks, a rolled sleeve button down, boots that look like they’ve seen more than just a classroom.