Chapter 12: The Rave'N Night - Part 1
The Rave'N transformed Nevermore's great hall into something that would have made Vegas showrunners weep with envy. Supernatural teenagers had unleashed their abilities without restraint, creating a sensory assault that bordered on actual violence. Bianca's water manipulation created impossible waterfalls that flowed upward, while Xavier's psychic paintings writhed and danced across the walls in living murals.
Too many people. Too much stimulation. Too many opportunities for my powers to activate defensively.
I remained in the dorm deliberately, sprawled across my bed with our evidence wall spread around me like a tactical command center. Eugene had offered to stay—worried about leaving me alone with my obsessive investigation—but I'd insisted he attend.
"Go. Socialize. Pretend to be a normal teenager for a few hours."
"What about you?"
"I'm organizing intelligence. Cross-referencing patterns. Very important antisocial work."
Also avoiding crowds that would trigger Unnoticed Mode automatically.
Eugene had finally left, dressed in a suit that made him look like an accountant attending a supernatural tax convention. His plan: corner Wednesday between dance sets and offer tactical support for her ongoing investigation.
Good luck with that.
The evidence wall told a increasingly damning story. Tyler's work schedule aligned perfectly with the Hyde's hunting pattern—every attack coincided with periods when he'd worked closing shifts at the Weathervane. The correlation was circumstantial but overwhelming.
Motive: unclear. Method: lycanthropic transformation. Opportunity: every three to four days.
My phone buzzed with the first check-in text:
"Are you alive?"
"Yes! Dancing is surprisingly exhausting when you're trying to impress goth girls with your tactical brilliance."
"Still alive?"
"Stop being paranoid! Wednesday actually spoke to me for three whole minutes."
"That's not an answer."
"Fine. Yes, still breathing. Having fun. This is what normal teenagers do, remember?"
Normal. The word felt foreign. Had I ever been normal, even in my previous life? College dropout, dead in a car accident, now transmigrated into a supernatural teenager with three abilities that shouldn't exist in combination.
Nothing about this situation qualifies as normal.
But Eugene was trying, and that counted for something. He'd gone from terrified victim to tactical partner in the span of weeks, developing courage I wasn't sure I possessed despite my combat advantages.
Maybe there's hope for all of us.
The thought was interrupted by another text, this one carrying the weight of destiny:
"Wednesday found something. Cave in the woods, possible Hyde lair. She's going now. Should I follow?"
No. No no no.
My fragmented memories crystallized with horrifying clarity. This was it—the moment I'd been dreading since arrival. Eugene following Wednesday into darkness, finding the monster's den, becoming the victim I was supposed to prevent.
Tyler's not at the dance. He left twenty minutes ago. The timing is perfect.
My fingers flew across the phone screen:
"NO. DO NOT FOLLOW. COME BACK NOW."
But Eugene was already moving, caught up in the mystery and the chance to finally prove himself useful to the girl who'd captured his imagination.
"It's fine! Just going to watch from distance. She might need backup!"
Backup. Against a creature that tears people apart with its bare hands.
"EUGENE STOP THIS IS NOT SAFE"
The text sent to empty air. Read receipts showed delivered but not opened—phone probably pocketed or abandoned as he chased Wednesday into the woods.
Time to go. Time to go now.
I ran.
Nevermore's corridors blurred past as I sprinted toward the exit. Students returning from the dance scattered out of my way, probably thinking I was having some kind of breakdown. They weren't wrong.
Nine-forty-seven PM. Eugene sent the text at nine-forty-seven.
How much of a head start does he have?
My shadow manipulation activated unconsciously, extending in all directions like a sensory net. Searching for Eugene's presence, for Wednesday's location, for any trace of the hunt that was probably already in progress.
Nothing. Too far from campus.
The woods swallowed me like a hungry mouth. Twenty minutes of sprinting through undergrowth that caught at my clothes and branches that slapped my face. My fragmented memories screamed directions—northwest quadrant, stream formations, limestone caves—but provided no specifics.
Where would Wednesday go? Think tactically.
The victim pattern suggested proximity to water sources. Caves required specific geological conditions. The Hyde needed isolation for its lair, somewhere it could store kills without discovery.
Northwest. Follow the stream.
I adjusted course, legs burning and lungs aching. Behind me, the Rave'N continued its oblivious celebration while somewhere ahead, my best friend walked into a death trap because I hadn't been convincing enough to stop him.
Should have told him everything. Should have revealed the transmigrator knowledge.
Should have, could have, didn't.
My shadows pulsed ahead of me like bloodhounds following a scent trail. They could sense something—movement, presence, danger—but couldn't provide specific locations.
Keep running. Find them before it's too late.
Please let it not be too late.
The cave entrance appeared at ten-twenty-three, according to my phone's timestamp. A natural limestone formation that disappeared into absolute darkness, with Wednesday's dropped flashlight lying abandoned at the threshold like a breadcrumb trail into hell.
She's inside. Eugene followed her inside.
The Hyde is in there with them.
Sound echoed from the depths—movement, heavy breathing, the wet noises that accompanied violence in progress. My powers activated on pure instinct, shadows wrapping around me like armor as I prepared to descend into darkness.
Too late. Always too late.
But maybe not too late for all of them.
I entered the cave where something with too many teeth was finishing its hunt.
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