The Professor And The Madman Book Review Novels & Stories

“I’m afraid I’m sure as hell. Double size, strong legs, sharp canines, glowing eyes. That’s not a regular wolf you’re looking at! Come the night and they would be thrice as dangerous.” The man swallowed. “What do we do?” “I hope there’s something we could do but I’m afraid there isn’t. They are much stronger than us. No amount of collective strength would make it possible to stop them. I say let them do whatever it is they’re doing and wait till its over.” – the professor said and went inside his car again The man got no choice. Half of his mind’s still not convinced that the ones he’s looking at now are actually werewolves: a page of ancient history coming to life right before their eyes.

the Professor said. “This bloke is seriously getting on my nerves. I reckon I’ll have to give him a proper telling off next time,” Alpha Matthew grumbled. But the professor quickly asked us to leave for our own safety. “Come on, Alpha Matthew. Give Randy a chance,” the Professor said, leaning forward.

All the books were on the floor. God! It wasn't a nightmare or an imagination. Prof. Stephan was really in too last night, and he has rearranged my guts and fucked me till I was too boneless to move my body and too tired to keep my eyes open. Shame wrapped itself around my neck and squeezed like a vine till it physically hurt. I couldn't believe I allowed it again. I couldn't believe I allowed my step-uncle and professor to fuck me like a common and filthy whore on his first night in the house.

When I was just about to move my eyes away from him, the wound on his forehead grabbed my attention and then I noticed that his hand is also bandaged. I narrowed my eyes bemusedly. Mr. stranger met with the accident one day back and Professor Zain is also injured. Is he my Mr Stranger? What I'm thinking? I'm seriously crazy, there is no comparison between Mr Stranger and Professor Zain. Mr Stranger is so nice, so sweet, sensible, so calm and a humble person, and on the other side, Professor Zain is so rude, weird, short-tempered and a crazy person. He can never become like Mr. stranger. I raised one corner of my lips, staring at Professor Zain with contempt. I just really can't forget how he

I paused for a moment, “It is at best a cautionary tale of a man who tried to play god with his body and suffered the consequences or a symbolic portrayal of the real Split personality disorder and at its worst…speculative fiction of human nature.” His eyes narrowed and my heart sank. I recognized that gleam in any Professor's eye. “Explain.” I winced internally at his demand. I should have kept my answer shorter, succinct and enough to get things over with, but of course I had to slip. There was no other way around it. Taking a deep breath, I continued.

I muttered under my breath. Even thinking of him brought a sting of irritation. His smug tone, the way he dissected every argument I made, the way he looked at me like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. It was infuriating. And yet, there was something strange about the comparison that flickered in my mind, the confidence of the man from the party and the quiet dominance of my professor. Both sharp. Both intense. That made me laugh. It wasn’t the same. Dalton was too controlled, too closed off. My mystery man had been all heat and hunger. Brothers maybe, wouldn’t that be a twist.

Everyone looked toward me. "Could I see Mandy a minute please?" I asked the professor. "This is important." I closed the door. I stood in the hall in nervous anticipation, but nothing happened. I was getting impatient and was about to poke my head in again when Mandy stepped out, closing the door behind her. "What the hell do you..." she started; "why do you have sperm in your hair!?" She took a step back, looking me up and down. I was itching to check out my hair but didn't dare let go of the pamphlet. She noticed me holding it nervously over my skirt like a shield and grabbed for it, ripping it from my hands.

Then Geoffrey just figured out that she chose that place 'coz it is a perfect spot to sleep where their professor won’t catch her napping. But even though the lady loves to sleep a lot, there’s one thing that amazed Geoffrey. “Peter Hemenry said in this book, ‘Man is Man’ page 65, that life isn’t a book. It is to make us believe that introduction, climax and ending in humanity don’t exist,” the lady said to their professor without blinking a bat. Despite being lazy in studying, the lady can answer all questions given to her. ‘That girl has a sexy brain despite of moping around,’ Geoffrey realized.

“But let’s pretend I am lying. What difference does it make? You’re still here. Chained by your own delusions.” “I’m not delusional,” I snapped. “No?” He stepped forward. “Then why do you think either of them are coming for you? Huh? Because they love you? Because you’re some great loss to the world?” He laughed, and it was a cold, cutting sound. “You’re a liability. Always have been. A puzzle they’ll eventually stop trying to solve.” My fists clenched. “You don’t know them.” “Oh, I know men like the professor. Controlled. Calculating. Always three steps ahead. And I know the soft ones like Sage, who follow strength like moths to a flame. You were just the temporary spark. But the professor?

“There’s the sassy girl I know. Smartass.” The professor continues and I try to focus, but shit, he’s going to be in this class—right next to me—for the whole semester. DING! He’s going to drive me crazy. He wrote, Where’s that Kama Sutra book? I bet she still has it. Get a copy. I take a deep breath. This is going to be a long semester.