On Ethan's side,
He sat on the narrow bench inside the holding cell, his orange prison uniform stark against the gray concrete. He whistled softly, an aimless tune, as if he were waiting for a bus instead of locked behind bars.
Sheriff Galpin stopped in front of the cell.
"You can smirk all you want," he said. "In two days, you'll be standing in court. And when that happens, you'll get the punishment you deserve."
Ethan stopped whistling and looked up, tilting his head slightly.
"Am I?" he asked.
Galpin didn't appreciate the tone. "We have evidence. Video footage. Your uniform was at the scene. Juries don't like coincidences."
Ethan leaned back against the wall, unfazed. "Juries also don't like being lied to."
Galpin stepped closer to the bars. "You think you're smarter than this system?"
"No," Ethan replied evenly. "But I am stronger than it."
Galpin frowned.
"My uniform can be stolen," Ethan continued. "And that CCTV footage? It was taken at night. My face isn't visible. Those two points alone are enough for a judge to dismiss the case on grounds of insufficient evidence."
"While I'm sitting here, the real murderer is still roaming free."
That gave Galpin pause.
"You think you're helping my investigation now?" Galpin asked.
"I think you're wasting time on the wrong suspect," Ethan replied calmly. "And the longer you do, the more bodies you'll have to explain."
Galpin held his stare for a long moment, searching for cracks.
Finding none, he straightened.
"Save it for the judge," he said finally.
He turned and started to walk away.
"And Sheriff," Ethan added evenly, "one final warning."
Galpin stopped.
"You'd better keep an eye on your son."
The words landed hard.
Galpin turned slowly, eyes sharp. "You watch your mouth."
Ethan smiled as he watched the sheriff leave.
"So much for containment," he thought, glancing toward the small barred window set high on the wall. Moonlight slipped through, pale and inviting.
A night stroll wouldn't hurt.
His vision flickered.
A familiar interface unfolded before his eyes.
---
[STATUS WINDOW]
Name: Ethan Corvin
Age: 18
Race: Pure-blood Vampire (Evolution Possible)
Physical Parameters:
— Punch Force: ~50 tons
— Speed: ~300 km/h
— Durability: Skin resistant to small-caliber bullets
— Stamina: Unmatched
— Telekinesis: ~10 tons
Abilities:
— Bat Transformation
— Blood Lightning
Regeneration:
— Minor injuries: Instant recovery
— Major injuries: Accelerated healing
— Partial immortality: Cannot die as long as the body remains intact
Weaknesses: None
Blood Points: 7200
---
The interface dimmed.
Last night when he recycled the Outcasts' blood, the system had rewarded him generously. The Bat Transformation came from a shapeshifter's essence—efficient, versatile. The Blood Lightning had manifested after absorbing the blood of a Spark outcast.
Raw energy refined into something far deadly.
"Let's go see what everyone else is doing," Ethan murmured.
Black mist curled around his body, thick and silent, swallowing him whole. For a brief moment, there was nothing—just shadow and motion.
Then the mist shifted.
From its center, a bat burst free, wings snapping open as it darted toward the barred window. It slipped effortlessly through the gaps and vanished into the night.
Cold air rushed past as Ethan took to the sky.
It really does feel good to fly, he thought, adjusting instinctively as his wings caught the wind. The world below shrank quickly—roads, rooftops, streetlights blurring into distant shapes.
As Ethan flew low over the edge of town, two familiar figures caught his attention.
That can't be…
He slowed midair, banking slightly.
Wednesday and Enid were moving toward the Jericho mortuary.
Ethan frowned. Of course they are.
He adjusted his course and descended.
***
On the ground, Wednesday had already removed the outer screws of an air vent, working with the same calm focus she applied to everything illegal. The metal cover loosened with a soft scrape.
"Wednesday," Enid whispered urgently, glancing around the empty lot, "can't we come back tomorrow? It's night. And this is a mortuary. What if we see something… you know. Strange."
Wednesday tugged the vent free. "We already broke into a house where someone died," she said flatly. "Another one won't cause lasting psychological damage."
"That's not comforting."
Wednesday ignored her and peered into the opening. "We're here to inspect the monster's previous victims. I want to know if the previous ones had anything in common."
Enid hesitated. "Like… hobbies? Blood types? Favorite colors?"
"Patterns," Wednesday replied. "Murderers are repetitive."
Before Enid could respond, a voice spoke from the darkness.
"You two shouldn't be here."
Enid jumped. "Wednesday—we're caught!"
She spun around, heart racing.
There was no one there.
"No," the voice said again, closer now. "But what are you doing here?"
Wednesday looked up at the direction of the sound.
Perched on a tree branch above them sat a bat, wings folded neatly, black eyes fixed on the pair.
Enid stared.
"…Wednesday," she whispered, "is it just me, or did that bat talk?"
"Yes," Wednesday said calmly. "And you should find the voice familiar."
Enid squinted up at it, realization dawning slowly.
"…Ethan?"
The bat tilted its head.
"Yep. It's me."
Enid let out a strangled sound. "WHY is the vampire a bat now?"
*****
A/N: The Patreon version is already updated to Chapter 68, so if you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join my Patreon
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