A normal day so far: woke up, got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and the sprinted out the door in order to get to class on time. I'm still not used to this 8 am class, but I do like the subject, and the professor, so I suppose it's worth it. I open the door to the lecture hall and find that I'm one of the last people there so I end up with a spot right at the front. Not my favourite place to be, I prefer to be back farther so I can doodle while taking notes, as I can't seem to focus without it.
I check my phone, seeing what time it is because I felt like I was running late, yet the professor who prides himself on punctuality, isn't here yet.
8:10 am. So I was later then I wanted to be, lucky me the the prof wasn't here yet.
'Speak of the Devil.'
The Door to the class room opens an a man in his mid to late 20's walks in. That's not our professor though, but I don't think he's a student going by the way he's dressed. He's wearing a lovely suit and tie, his beard is well kept, and he has a gorgeous pair of dark eyes. The man sets a brief case down next to the podium, that our usual professor just ignores. I feel bad because I know I'm giving him a strange look, then I realize why I feel so weird about him.
He writes his name on the large white board: Professor Fischbach.
As in Mark Fischbach? Who is no where close to being a professor, the man didn't even become an engineer.
Is this a joke?
Someone else beats me to the punch, raising their hand and is called on before the 'professor' can even say a word. He simply points to the student.
"No offence sir, but you look a little young to be a professor, what happened to Professor Allen?" They ask, ending the flood of chatter that usually precedes the teacher's appearance.
"Yes, I am. I suppose you could say that I was gifted in intellect," he boasts.
His voice is deep and soothing just like Markiplier's, but something seems wrong about all of this, besides the fact that Mark would not be spending his time entertaining a group of college students. The professor's eyes scan the crowd of students. I might have imagined it, but it felt like his eyes rested on me for a moment longer then anyone else. Might be because I'm at the end of the row, so he would have paused here anyway.
I raise my hand and am nodded to.
"You never answered his question though sir, what has happened to Mr. Allen?" I repeat my peers question, hoping to get an actual answer out of him. Mr. Allen is a good man, I hope nothing has happened to him.
"I'm afraid I'm unsure, all I was told was that he was a bit tied up at the moment," not Mark responds.
Again I might be imagining it, but it felt like something flashed in his eyes when he said that Mr. Allen was tied up. I hope he doesn't mean that literally.
"Now then, enough questions, we should begin with the lecture. I have Professor Allen's lecture notes, I will probably not be as interesting to listen to as he is, but I will try my best," not Mark says standing behind the podium, as he brings up a slide show onto the screen above the board.
"Alright, you're a psychology class, so tell me something about... fear?" he says his voice dropping pitch for effect. I'll admit it was a clever tactic to keep us interested, and related well to the topic, for a substitute he was already quite impressive. "Go ahead, any answers you can think of, just throw them out there. There's few enough of you here that it won't become a screaming match."
YOU ARE READING
Fun, Games, Murder? (A Darkiplier Story)
Fanfiction(y/n) was expecting another usual day of class, but when her professor never arrives, and instead is replaced by a very familiar man going by the name of Professor Fischbach, her future begins to look a little more grim.
