The Marvelous Misadventures of Walter Guilman: The Witch House

Elwood

Daniella Elwood shivered with excitement as she quickly unpacked. She had done it. She managed to get a scholarship at Miskatonic, and had moved out of the slums to begin building a life for herself, much to the exitment of her father. Of course, she wasn't able to get a lease on a good apartment, let alone get one of Miskatonic's fancy dorm rooms. So she was forced to rent a room on the second floor of a haunted house. Not that she minded, of course. Since she was studying history and archeology, maybe the ghosts could be her study buddies. Not everything was perfect about the arrangement, however. She had hoped that she would be alone in the place, but that was just wishful thinking. There was Father Iwaniki, a catholic priest who's loud praying could be heard in the small hours of the morning, Miss Stravinsky, the landlord's wife, and a reclusive math student named Guilman. He was a tall figure, with pasty white skin and thick, curly brown hair, along with large square reading glasses that he equipped when he was slaving over the queer figures and formulae written in his textbooks, or studying some object in the house closely. He largely kept to himself, mostly just staying in his room all day studying, or reading science fiction magazines. Elwood had tried to reach out to him the when she arrived, finding him in the parlor reading one of his magazines, but left when he just mumbled short responses to her remarks under his breath. She didn't mind this, though. She found that there was nothing worse in the world than a greasy cracker trying to impose himself on her. She had tried to participate in suffrage marches, but always stormed out in a huff after they tried to put her at the back of the parade. She never understood why she was seen as inferior simply because she was a bit darker than everyone elses. But that didn't matter now. In a few days the new semester would start at Miskatonic, and she was going to prove to everyone that her skin didn't effect her mind. When Elwood finished unpacking, she jumped onto the meager iron bed and examined the room around her carefully. There was a cloudy window on the east wall that showed her the thick jungle that the garden that was the product of a lazy landlord. The door to the hallway sat on the western wall, with and odd pattern of five panels instead of four. At the foot of the bed sat a small dresser, with a cheap copper mantel clock sitting on top. The ceiling slanted toward the north at a steep angle, and made her wonder why Guilman would want to stay on the third floor, where the rooms seemed to be thrown together at random, with floors that curved and slanted, an ceilings that almost divided some of the rooms in half. But she soon decided that this was Guilman's loss. Elwood realized that if she wanted to survive here, she would need food. So lazily rising from the bed, put on her coat and boots and made her way to the front door.

As Elwood stepped over the threshold, she discovered how beautiful Arkham really was. When she had arrived the previous night, the town seemed like a horrific pile of rot and death. But now that she walked down the untended sidewalk toward the small grocery store, amidst a shower of small snowflakes, she saw that the night was merely a cover. The sagging gambrel roofs had changed to tall, proud houses. And the mossy brick chimneys, that had looked cracked and abandoned, now looked welcoming, with warm smoke rising toward the heavens. And all covered in an even coating of soft snow, making the city seem like a village from a fairy tale. Then she saw the cute corner store store, and was filled with a renewed sense of excitement. Brooklyn had been a cold, unforgiving place, where one step out of line would get you into trouble with anyone you could care to name. But here in Arkham, even as the the snow storm rained ice down on her, and as cold wind numbed her ears, she felt warm and welcome. Elwood opened the door and entered the corner store. Before her was a forest of shelves, covered in everything you might expect from a small corner store. Flasks, cheap cigars, cocaine, sugar and salt, and bread. Elwood grabbed three loaves of bread and took them to the front counter, and held out the money. The clerk glared at her for a moment, but then begrudgingly took the money, and placed the bread into a paper bag. Elwood took the bag, and left the store. She wondered about why the clerk seemed reluctant to serve her. She turned to look back at the store and saw the sign. It read in dark, bold capital letters, "WHITES ONLY". She turned back and walked briskly back toward her lodging, more angry than embarrassed. "I thought Massachusetts was supposed to be progressive!" she mumbled angrily to herself. She thought angrily of all the people who had held her back, and broke into a run. When she arrived back at the house, she ignored the landlord when he said hello, and stormed back up to her room and threw herself onto the rusty bed. She cried.