Chapter 17: Hyde's Trail
Adam Stiels crouched in Jericho's dense woods, the air sharp with pine and wet earth, moonlight filtering through gnarled branches to cast claw-like shadows on the forest floor, each one a silent threat. His HUD glowed faintly: Level 1, 18/100 uses, 10-minute cooldowns. The Time Control System was his edge, but memory gaps about Tyler Galpin's Hyde left him blind to the monster's face, a fog where claws should be. Tonight, he tracked Tyler to a hidden lair, supporting Wednesday Addams' investigation, deepening his bond with Enid Sinclair through training, aiding Eugene Ottinger's bee surveillance, and pranking Eugene for levity, all while a founder symbol hinted at a deeper conspiracy. [Chasing monsters? Hope you brought running shoes, kid.]
The woods were a labyrinth of tangled roots and mist, the ground slick with fallen leaves, each step crunching softly under Adam's boots. Wednesday moved ahead, her black dress a shadow blending with the night, her eyes scanning for tracks, the rune-etched scroll from the vault clutched tightly. "The Hyde's lair will confirm Tyler's role," she said, her voice cold as frost, each word precise. "The ritual links to Nevermore's founders—blood and transformation." Adam nodded, his gaps a fog obscuring Tyler's monstrous form. Why can't I see him? he thought, gripping a flashlight, its beam slicing through the dark like a blade. Eugene trailed behind, his glasses glinting, his bees buzzing faintly overhead, their hum a guiding pulse. "My bees saw Tyler sneak here," Eugene said, his voice nervous but proud, his hands smudged with honey, his confidence growing.
They reached a cave hidden by tangled vines, its entrance a jagged maw in the earth, claw marks scarring the stone like violent signatures. Adam's pulse spiked, his HUD flashing: Slow Time: 1 minute. Activate? He snapped his fingers, and the world lagged—leaves drifted like feathers, Wednesday's braids swayed like molasses, a bee's wings crawled in mid-flight. Adam slipped into the cave, his boots silent on the damp floor, and found crates gouged with claw marks, a torn jacket stained with blood reeking of Hyde musk. He placed a sticky note on Eugene's glasses reading "Bee King," a prank to lighten the tension. [Monster laundry? You're in deep, Romeo.] Time resumed, and Eugene laughed, peeling off the note, his grin shaky but genuine, his hands trembling with excitement.
Wednesday joined him, her eyes narrowing at the claw marks, her fingers tracing them with clinical precision. "Tyler's our Hyde," she said, her voice a blade cutting through the cave's damp air. "The ritual's purpose is transformation—Nevermore's founders created this monster." Adam's gaps gnawed at him, frustration coiling like a snake, his flashlight trembling slightly. I'm close, but my brain's locked, he thought, the bloodied jacket a grim puzzle piece. Wednesday tucked the scroll into her bag, her gaze unyielding. "We need to secure this lair," she said, her tone final, her braids swinging as she turned. Eugene's bees buzzed louder, circling the cave, their surveillance tightening. "They found a carved raven nearby," Eugene said, his grin bright, his hands fidgeting with a hive tool, the founder symbol a chilling clue.
Back at Nevermore, Enid met Adam in the quad, the cobblestones glinting under moonlight, the air crisp with autumn's chill, the scent of pine lingering on their clothes. Her pink sweater was a beacon, her eyes sparkling as she tossed a training dummy with werewolf strength, her claws grazing the fabric in a playful arc. "You're always saving me, Adam," she said, grinning, her breath visible in the cold. "My turn soon." They sparred, her movements fluid, his dodging playful, their banter light—her teasing his "speedster" moves, his joking about her glitter stash. She's my spark, but I can't tell her about the system, he thought, his heart racing as she laughed, her hair catching the moonlight like a halo.
They sat on a stone bench, its surface cold and worn, Enid's hand warm in his, her vanilla-pine scent grounding him. She described a new blog post, her voice animated, her enthusiasm infectious as she mimicked a jukebox tune, a leaf stuck in her hair from the breeze. Adam chuckled, plucking it out, his fingers brushing her cheek, her blush deepening their bond. "You're gonna crash the internet with glitter," he said, his sarcasm softening, the moment fragile. [Training with werewolves? Don't get scratched, loverboy.] Enid leaned closer, her optimism a balm, her teasing about his pranks a melody that steadied him, the founder symbol nagging at him like a shadow.
Eugene joined them, sharing bee surveillance updates, his glasses fogged, his grin bright as he wiped honey from his hands. "My bees tracked Tyler's routes—those raven carvings are old," he said, his confidence soaring. Adam clapped his shoulder, their bond solidifying. Kid's braver than he looks, he thought. Wednesday approached, her scroll open, runes glinting faintly. "The ritual's tied to blood and time," she said, her voice cold. "Tyler's just the start." Adam nodded, the lair's claw marks and founder symbol burning in his mind, his gaps a persistent fog.
Adam's monologue churned as they planned the next move: Wednesday's closing in, Enid's my anchor, and Eugene's bees are gold. These founders are trouble. The prank on Eugene was a spark of humor, the sticky note a fleeting victory. [19/100 uses. Monster hunting's fun, but don't trip over your own ego, genius.] The lair's evidence tightened the Hyde hunt, the founder symbol a thread in a larger conspiracy, and Adam braced for the confrontation, Enid's warmth his lifeline in Nevermore's storm.
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