Chapter 6: Death in the Woods - Part 1
The abandoned clearing sat two hundred meters from campus, far enough to avoid observation but close enough to reach safety if training went sideways. Perfect for pushing my shadow manipulation beyond safe limits without Eugene worrying about mysterious injuries.
Nine meters. My shadow stretched across the moonlit ground, coiling around tree trunks like a living thing. The mental strain built slowly—pressure behind my eyes that would escalate to migraine within minutes—but I was getting better at managing the pain.
Form a barrier.
The darkness thickened between two oak trees, creating a crude wall that might slow down an attacker for maybe three seconds. Not solid enough to stop anything determined, but better than nothing.
Need more practice. More range. More control.
The construct held for fifteen seconds before my concentration wavered and it dissolved back into ordinary shadow. Progress, but not enough. If my fragmented memories were accurate, something was coming that would make my current abilities look like party tricks.
Tyler Galpin. Hyde. Monster.
The words circled through my mind like a warning I couldn't quite decode. Whatever was happening in Jericho, whatever connection existed between the barista and the nightmares, I needed to be ready.
The smell hit me as I was preparing for another round of training. Copper and rot, thick enough to taste. My shadow recoiled instinctively, pulling closer to my feet like it could sense danger.
Blood. A lot of it.
I followed the scent through undergrowth that caught at my clothes, using shadows to probe ahead while my teenage body screamed warnings about dark woods and predators. Twenty meters deeper into the forest, my shadow encountered something large and still.
No. Please, no.
Rowan Laslow lay spread-eagled beneath an ancient pine tree, chest cavity opened like a grotesque flower. His ribs had been peeled back with surgical precision, exposing organs that gleamed wetly in the moonlight. His face was frozen in an expression of terminal shock, eyes wide and staring at nothing.
Dead. Very dead. Torn apart by something with claws.
My transmigrator awareness catalogued the crime scene with clinical detachment—claw patterns consistent with a large predator, drag marks suggesting the body had been moved, minimal blood spatter indicating death had occurred elsewhere. But my teenage body betrayed me, doubled over behind a tree trunk, vomiting until nothing remained but bile and terror.
This is real. This is actually happening.
The media violence from my previous life had been sanitized, choreographed, designed for entertainment rather than education. This was raw reality—the weight of death, the stench of exposed organs, the absolute finality of violence.
Get it together. Document what you can, then get help.
I forced myself to approach the body, shadows probing for additional evidence. Fabric caught on a nearby branch. Disturbed earth suggesting a struggle. Claw marks on the tree bark, too deep and too wide to come from any normal animal.
What did this?
Movement in the treeline made me freeze.
Massive. Wrong-jointed. Moving through the forest with predatory grace that belonged to something that had never learned to fear anything else. It emerged from the shadows like a nightmare made flesh—eight feet tall, muscles that rippled under pale skin, arms that hung too long and ended in claws designed for tearing.
Hyde.
The word formed in my mind with absolute certainty. This was the monster from my fragmented memories, the thing that Tyler Galpin would become or was becoming or had already become. The timeline was confused, but the threat was immediate and undeniable.
It's going to see me. It's going to kill me.
Panic overrode conscious thought, and my Unnoticed Mode activated without permission. The world shifted, colors becoming muted, sounds growing distant. Suddenly I was background noise, irrelevant to predator senses that were designed to hunt things that mattered.
Can't see me. I'm not here. I don't exist.
The Hyde paused where I stood, massive head turning left and right as it searched for whatever had disturbed its feeding ground. Milky white eyes scanned past me twice, nostrils flaring as it tested the air for human scent.
Nothing. I'm nothing.
For six minutes that felt like hours, the creature hunted for something it could sense but couldn't locate. Its intelligence was disturbing—not animal cunning but genuine problem-solving ability. It knew something was wrong but couldn't identify the threat.
Finally, it gave up. The Hyde lumbered back into the forest, disappearing between the trees with unnatural speed. Only when I couldn't hear its movement anymore did I dare to breathe normally.
Unnoticed Mode saved my life.
The realization was both terrifying and reassuring. I had abilities that could protect me from supernatural threats, but using them felt like surrendering pieces of my humanity. Every time I became irrelevant, forgettable, background noise, I understood a little more how easy it would be to simply fade away completely.
Later. Process the existential crisis later.
Right now I needed to report Rowan's death before someone else discovered the body and became the next victim.
Principal Weems' office glowed with warm light, a sanctuary of administrative normalcy in a world that had just revealed its teeth. She looked up from Wednesday's disciplinary paperwork as I knocked, expression shifting from mild irritation to concern when she processed my appearance.
Probably look like hell. Mud, blood, trauma.
"Mr. Bason? What's wrong?"
"I found a body in the woods. Rowan Laslow. He's dead."
The words came out flat, emotionless. Shock did that—drained color from everything until reality felt like watching someone else's nightmare.
Weems went perfectly still, the kind of stillness that came from receiving information that changed everything. "You're certain it's Mr. Laslow?"
"Yes. Two hundred meters northwest of campus, beneath the large pine tree near the creek bend." I provided exact coordinates while she made notes. "He's been dead for several hours."
"You saw nothing else? No other students, no creature that might have caused this?"
The Hyde. The monster with Tyler Galpin's intelligence and something else's hunger.
I made the calculation in microseconds. Tell the truth and reveal knowledge I shouldn't possess, or lie by omission and maintain my cover while potentially enabling future attacks.
Can't explain how I know about the Hyde without revealing transmigrator status.
"Just the body, Principal Weems. Just Rowan."
First major lie to authority. Won't be the last.
Weems studied my face, probably looking for signs of deception or trauma-induced confusion. Whatever she found satisfied her, because she nodded and reached for her phone.
"Return to your dormitory immediately. Don't speak to anyone about this until the authorities have processed the scene. I'll handle notifications and coordinate with local law enforcement."
Sheriff Galpin. Who happens to be Tyler's father.
The irony was brutal. The monster's family would be investigating its crimes, probably destroying evidence and misdirecting the investigation to protect their son.
Unless Tyler doesn't know he's the Hyde. Unless the transformation happens without conscious control.
The memories were too fragmented to provide clarity. I remembered Tyler in human form, Tyler as monster, but not the transition or the awareness level. Was he a willing participant or another victim?
Doesn't matter right now. Get back to the dorm, establish alibi, figure out next steps.
"Thank you for reporting this, Mr. Bason. I know it must have been traumatic."
More than you know.
Eugene was asleep when I slipped into our room, his breathing deep and even. I sat on my bed in the darkness, still wearing muddy clothes, trying to process what I'd learned.
The Hyde is real and active. Someone controls it or it acts independently. Rowan is dead exactly as my fragmented memories suggested. My Unnoticed Mode works on supernatural predators.
The list should have been reassuring—confirmation that my abilities could protect me and that my meta-knowledge was at least partially accurate. Instead, I felt like I was drowning in quicksand.
I knew this would happen. I could have warned him. I could have prevented it.
But warning Rowan would have required explaining how I knew he was in danger, which would have exposed my transmigrator status and potentially changed other critical events. The needs of the many versus the needs of the few, calculated on scales I was barely qualified to understand.
Utilitarian calculus. Save the world, sacrifice the individual.
It was sound tactical reasoning. It was also the kind of moral compromise that destroyed souls through accumulation.
I pulled out my notebook and wrote in cramped letters that reflected my state of mind: I'm not ready for this. None of us are ready for this.
My shadow crawled up the wall like it was trying to escape, moving independently in patterns I couldn't control. The darkness had its own agenda, and I was beginning to suspect it might be more intelligent than I'd realized.
Tomorrow I tell Wednesday about Rowan's death. Compare her reaction to what I observed.
Tonight, I just try to sleep without seeing those milky white eyes every time I close mine.
Outside our window, sirens began wailing in the distance. Sheriff Galpin's people, responding to Weems' call, probably already working to cover up evidence that might implicate the sheriff's son in supernatural murder.
The plot is moving. Can't stop it, can only try to survive it.
God help us all.
Author's Note / Promotion:
Your Reviews and Power Stones are the best way to show support. They help me know what you're enjoying and bring in new readers!
You don't have to. Get instant access to more content by supporting me on Patreon. I have three options so you can pick how far ahead you want to be:
🪙 Silver Tier ($6): Read 10 chapters ahead of the public site.
👑 Gold Tier ($9): Get 15-20 chapters ahead of the public site.
💎 Platinum Tier ($15): The ultimate experience. Get new chapters the second I finish them (20+ chapters ahead!). No waiting for weekly drops, just pure, instant access.
Your support helps me write more .
👉 Find it all at patreon.com/fanficwriter1