Chapter Text
Professor Layton,
A series of strange events have been going on in Chippenham, a town just outside Stonehenge. There are reports of strange creatures around, that locals have been calling zombie attacks. I’ve heard a lot about you from the papers, and I thought you could help us.
I know that sounds crazy, but considering the cases I know you’ve taken on before, I figured you would be the only outsider that would believe me. On the off chance you haven’t already tossed this letter, come to Chippenham as soon as possible. But come quickly – more people are vanishing every day. If I haven’t been taken yet, we’ll talk.
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Hershel Layton placed the letter down on his desk, carefully considering what he had just read. Logic suggested that this letter was a hoax – not uncommon these days, considering that the professor was becoming somewhat of a celebrity. There were a handful of people sending him fake letters in an attempt to meet him, especially after what had happened last year in London–
No. He wouldn’t think about that.
He read through the letter again and sighed. He had not been on a case ever since… well, ever since the escapade with Clive Dove, and quite frankly he didn’t intend to start again. He and his daughter Flora had been enjoying a more peaceful life as of late. There was no need to get wrapped up in another adventure that would only end in pain and suffering…
Still. There was something about this particular letter that had caught his attention. Usually, he received long-winded letters that were signed by eager fans, complete with several different addresses where they could meet to talk. But this one was concise, urgent, and completely unsigned.
His eyes fell back to the last line. “If I haven’t been taken yet, we’ll talk.” Quite the conundrum indeed.
Running a hand through his hair in frustration, Hershel folded the the letter and tucked it back into its envelope before setting it down again. It was a late Friday afternoon at Gressenheller University, and despite the excitement of students returning home from their last classes before the Autumn Break began, the professor’s office felt slow, almost lethargic.
Rising, Hershel turned to leave his office and head home. There had been a time in his life when he would not have let such a puzzle go unsolved, but those days were long gone. The professor had no interest in adventures anymore, he was really getting too old for this…
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the old top hat on his desk. He hadn’t been wearing what used to be known as his “signature hat” lately. For the first time in a long time, however, he found himself running his fingers across it’s brim. Nostalgia stirred deep within him as he picked it up again, leaving a ring of dust in its wake. A flash of bright blue and yellow caught his attention from his desk – an old photograph had been hidden behind the hat, for how long, Hershel didn’t know. He switched the hat to his left hand and picked up the photograph with his right, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
Luke Triton and Emmy Altava were beaming up at him, along with a much younger version of himself. This particular photograph must have been taken by the Triton’s, after his first investigation with his apprentice and assistant. Had he really ever been that young? The gray hairs he had found in the mirror were becoming more prominent every day.
But with his signature hat in one hand and this photograph in the other, the aging professor couldn’t quite suppress the the old craving for adventure stirring in his chest once again.
He glanced over at the envelope on his desk. Perhaps he would research this town and see if anything odd came up. It couldn’t hurt. It was the start of Autumn break after all. He wouldn’t even have to request time off on the off chance that something actually came up out of all of this.
Hershel swapped the photograph for the envelope on his desk, but the hat didn’t make it that far. No, it had returned to his head before he was out the door, his fingers grasping the brim to keep it from flying off as he proceeded with haste down the hall.
“Hershel?” He heard the Dean ask as he rushed out of the university.“Where are you going? My granddaughter gave me another puzzle I can’t solve!”
“Sorry, I don’t have time today!” Hershel called over his shoulder with a smile to his colleague, maintaining his hurried pace. “Have an excellent break, Dean Delmona!”