After some time,
Ethan wiped the last smear of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze dropped to Laurel's body slumped against the tree.
What was left of her.
Skin drawn tight, hollowed, colorless—drained until she looked less human and more like a relic pulled from a tomb. Dry. Brittle. Empty.
He tilted his head, studying the result with mild disappointment.
"Poor thing," he said quietly. "I did warn you not to test my patience."
No pulse. No warmth. Nothing left to take.
He exhaled through his nose, eyes still faintly glowing. "All that hatred," he added, almost amused, "and not a drop worth keeping."
"Now what should I do with your body?" Ethan muttered.
He glanced down at what remained of her, weighing the options. Leaving it wasn't smart. Too many questions. Too many loose ends. Fire erased those.
Lightning gathered in his palm, sharp and controlled. He released it.
The husk ignited instantly, flames consuming it fast, clean—nothing left that could point back to him. To anyone who found the aftermath, it would look simple. Accidental. Final.
Then—
A howl cut through the woods.
Ethan froze.
"Huh?"
He turned slowly, eyes lifting to the sky. The moon hung low and swollen, red as a fresh wound.
Blood Moon.
Realization hit hard.
"…Enid."
The timing snapped into place with sick precision—this was the very night Enid wolfed out in the original plot.
"She wolfed out," he said under his breath.
He followed the sound through the trees until he spotted her.
A werewolf stood in the clearing, fur catching the moonlight—soft, pale, with streaks of pastel color still clinging to her hair even in this form.
Ethan stopped, a slow smile pulling at his face.
"Well," he said lightly, relief threading his voice, "you did it."
The werewolf's ears perked up. She let out a short, excited sound and padded closer, tail swishing. She tried to speak, a jumble of sounds coming out as soft howls instead.
Ethan blinked. "Right. Still a language barrier." He tilted his head. "Are you happy? Terrified? Both?"
She shook her head quickly—no—then braced herself. Bones shifted, light rippling across her skin, and seconds later Enid stood there again—human, shaking, very aware of one critical problem.
She crossed her arms over herself instantly, face burning red.
"Turn around!" she snapped.
Ethan didn't argue. He turned so fast he nearly tripped. "Already done. Completely not looking."
There was frantic movement behind him. Leaves crunching. A muffled groan of embarrassment.
"This was not how I imagined my first wolf-out," Enid muttered, staring at the ground. "Why am I even in the woods? The last thing I remember was being in my room."
Ethan let out a slow breath and shrugged out of his coat, holding it out behind him without turning around.
"Long story. Use this first. Preferably before you die of secondhand embarrassment."
She grabbed it instantly, wrapping herself up like it was a life raft. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quieter—still mortified, but steadier.
"…Okay. You can turn around now."
He did.
Her hair was wild, face flushed, eyes still glowing faintly with leftover adrenaline. She clutched the coat tight, shoulders hunched, like armor.
Then she noticed it.
The look on his face.
Not shocked. Not flustered.
Amused.
Her eyes narrowed. "Why are you smiling like that?"
A beat.
"…Did you see everything?"
Ethan didn't bother lying. He nodded once. Even in the darkness, his eyesight was sharp enough to see everything clearly.
"Yeah."
Enid froze.
Her ears went red first. Then her cheeks. Then—very quickly—everything else followed.
"You—" she choked, clutching the coat tighter around herself, shoulders hunching like she could physically shrink out of existence. "You weren't supposed to admit that!"
Ethan tilted his head, genuinely confused. "You asked."
He hadn't meant it unkindly—just factual. Honesty was usually the safest option. Usually.
Enid huffed, still clutching the coat like a lifeline. "Okay, fine. Table that trauma for later. We have a bigger problem." Her expression shifted, excitement draining into urgency. "I saw something running toward Nevermore. Big. Clawed. Exactly like the monster in Wednesday's drawings."
Ethan's smile vanished.
"Oh," he muttered. The realization hit a second later. "Tyler."
He straightened, already scanning the treeline in the direction of the school. "I forgot about that part."
It seemed Laurel had another plan—and Tyler heading to Nevermore was not a good sign at all.
Enid followed his gaze. Smoke glowed faintly against the sky, drifting above the forest canopy.
"You go that way," Ethan said quickly, pointing. "Follow the smoke. Wednesday and Weems are there."
"And you?" Enid asked.
Ethan's eyes sharpened. "I'll handle the problem."
***
At the same time, at Nevermore—
The quad had erupted into chaos.
Students scattered in every direction, screams cutting through the night as a massive shape tore across the grounds.
Claws ripped into stone and grass alike, leaving deep gouges in its wake. Benches splintered. Lanterns shattered. Shadows leapt wildly as the monster barreled through the center of campus.
Tyler—no longer Tyler—roared, a sound that didn't belong to anything human.
Outcasts ran without understanding, fear overtaking instinct. This wasn't a prank.
This was a full-blown attack.
And it had just begun.
*****
A/N: The Patreon version is already updated to Chapter 107, so if you'd like to read ahead of the public release schedule, you can join my Patreon
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