As the bell rang signifying that we needed to be settled in class, her red lips curled into a sultry smile.

She was wearing an even more form-fitting shirt under her lab coat that made me wonder if it even fit the dress code, and her hair was no longer up in a bun, but flowing in luxurious, auburn locks down her back, looking like she’d just stepped off the set of a shampoo commercial.

I looked over to Vik at the table next to me and Bree; he seemed captivated by her. And who wouldn’t be? We were mortals in the presence of a goddess.

How could anyone ever be interested in someone like me with women like her in the world?

She lifted a piece of chalk up to the board with her perfectly-manicured fire engine-red nails, and wrote:

‘Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.’

Those words, that language!

“Are any of you familiar with the legends… of the Elder Gods?”

The class sat in awkward silence.

“It is fortunate, then, that Mr. Cho was discussing the deep sea this week, as that is a special interest of mine,” said Ms. Epistola as she took gliding steps back and forth across the room in her stilettos. “It pertains not only to the mysteries of the deep, but also to those of archeology and anthropology. They are the Great Old Ones, giant creatures that are said to have large houses beneath the sea. It is said that mortals sometimes sense the presence of the Old Ones, meeting them only in their dreams, the one place where they can be truly comprehended.”

I tore my thoughts from lamenting how pale and awful my skin was compared to hers at the mention of dreams. Dreams. What she was saying seemed like a bunch of inane babble, but the bit about dreams felt all too familiar. Meeting in my dreams incomprehensible creatures of the sea, the place I feared most and yet was inexorably drawn to. And that language she was using, so similar to what I had heard in my dream. I couldn’t escape the feeling that maybe there was something to what she was saying.

And that it might have something to do with Riley.

“We’ve pieced this information together based on artifacts from primeval cults.” Ms. Epistola’s eyes flashed. “And of course, ancient books. Old innocuous-seeming books with special significance to the Great Ones. Books so significant that their mortal owners, small-minded and well-meaning though they might be, may not even grasp their power.”

Bree raised her hand. Ms. Epistola glared at her. “Miss Ficus?”

“Fifan,” corrected Bree. “Aren’t we supposed to be learning about marine biology? Wouldn’t these old lessons belong in like, an anthropology or archaeology course or something?”