It's a werewolf

Everyone present in the library was in an unanticipated state of bewilderment after witnessing the shocking conversation between Oliver and the HCI detective agent, concerning Alex Humphrey.

Before now, everyone thought of Alex's case as some other regular minor incident, but with the little they had heard just a few minutes ago, their eyes opened to the realization that there was more to talk about than just a casual animal attack.

Firstly, the comment made by the HCI detective agent, referring to Alex as now being in a rather inanimate condition, left everyone in a very quizzical state. They all began to question among themselves with the same question Oliver had asked the detective earlier on; could Alex be dead? No one could answer that question because no one would tell.

There were lots of questions yet to be answered, questions pertaining to Oliver being proclaimed the current lead to the case, and presumably, a potential suspect. To most people, it was quite a bit believable that Oliver might've known something about the incident, considering he was said to be the first to see the victim. However, terming Oliver a potential suspect made little to no sense to every one, since the nature of the wounds as described, wasn't at all human. The attacker was assumed to be any animal with claws long enough to have created a four inches deep scratch onto the guts of a person. Their best bet so far was a grizzly bear.

Oliver stood there in front of the detective, with a million miles gaze in his eyes. The mumbles and chatters gradually faded, sounding more hazy and indistinct. Though he was bodily present in the library, his mind had long been transported far beyond reality at this point. He was lost in really deep thoughts.

"Mister Logan!!!" the detective called out for the third time, sounding so loud this time.

"Y… yes sir," Oliver quickly blurted out, glancing around him with bafflement in his eyes.

"Why weren't you responding to your name?" the detective asked Oliver, sounding a bit upset.

Oliver looked up at him with undisputable calmness in his eyes.

"I didn't quite hear you at the time," he said meaningly, without taking his eyes off the detective.

The detective stared at Oliver with narrowed thoughtful eyes. It was now he seemed to have noticed the almost-mesmerizing emotion-voided eyes that were staring back at him.

For a moment he was struggling to see if somehow he could unriddle the mystery within those frosty blue eyes. He focused his gaze so deeply to find out if there was any hurt, pain, shame, doubt, remorse, or regret. He craved to find any little speck of warmth whatsoever, but in the end, he was unable to detect any definite emotion.

Oliver looked on casually, wondering what might be going on in the mind of the detective who now muttered something to himself under his breath.

"How are you doing this?" he suddenly asked Oliver.

Oliver was puzzled at the question he had just been asked.

"What?" muttered Oliver, "How am I doing what?" he asked.

There was no response from the detective concerning the stoic expression that seemed to be a permanent feature on Oliver's face. He found it most fascinating and mystifying, that he considered it was best he ignored its complexity.

The detective sighed.

"Perhaps now is the time you say your goodbyes, mister Logan," he said to Oliver.

Oliver wondered what might be the relevance of his being asked to say his farewells. So many thoughts began to run through his mind. Where was the detective planning on taking him? Was he coming back or not? All these questions, Oliver kept pondering. As for the suggestion given to him by the detective, he wasn't buying it. What was the point of saying goodbye to someone when he knew he wouldn't miss them? He didn't even mourn his late parents for up to a week, and it felt normal to him.

"You should definitely use this chance, Mister Logan. You see, there might be a chance you wouldn't be coming back to this orphanage," the detective said.

"You're wrong," Oliver said, his voice edging with confidence.

"I hate to break it to you, Sir, but you're wasting your time believing I'm the one you're looking for," he added.

The detective smiled at Oliver

"You're looking at one of the greatest to ever do it. Everything has been laid out in plain sight, it's just left for you to play your part," he replied to Oliver.

Oliver ignored him.

"Aren't you still going to say your farewells?" he asked Oliver.

"That would not be necessary, sir. I suggest we leave now," replied Oliver.

"Why do you say it's unnecessary?" the detective asked him.

Oliver looked up at him again.

"Because I know I haven't done anything wrong, and that I'm coming back, and also that this is a big waste of time. You don't have any idea what you're up against," Oliver said.

The detective later decided they just leave. In those last few moments, Oliver slowly turned around, looking at those many eyes all fixed on him. As his eyes got to Felicity, and paused there. She was looking back at him, with wide sympathizing eyes. He could sense she was almost on the verge of breaking a tear.

"Let's get going," Oliver told the detective, finally forcing his gaze off Felicity.

They both went out of the library.

Oliver and the detective had both gotten halfway through the hallway when Oliver noticed someone heading straight at them from a distance. Soon they got closer to the approaching person. Behold, standing right in front of Oliver and the HCI detective, was the principal himself; Father Moses, and the look on his face revealed a certain kind of urgency.

"No, no, no, no, no," he said loudly, "not on my watch."

"I won't let you leave here with any of my orphans, detective," he added.

"Step out of the way, Mr principal, you do not want to bring any more trouble to yourself," replied the detective.

"You should have known me far enough that I don't take the safety of my wards for granted, and I'm sure the ministry is aware as well that detainment of minors is unlawful by the XLX Unified World Parliament," said the principal.

The detective scoffed out in disgust having realized that the principal was right at what he said.

"W… well I still have to carry on with my investigations," he said.

"Then I wouldn't stop you from doing that. If it's an interrogation you want, you'll have one, it just wouldn't go on beyond this premises," the principal said to him. Then turning to Oliver, he said; "Mr. Oliver Logan, Detective Specter here would like to ask you a few questions. Please tell him anything you know."

Oliver humbly obliged the principal's request. They all went together into an empty staff room by the corner. There, the detective asked Oliver to get seated. Right now, there was pin-drop silence although the room. The atmosphere was completely saturated with a mist of suspense. The principal together with the tall male staff that was with him, looked on with curiosity.

The detective slowly walked around Oliver, with his arms by his back, as the silence got longer.

As seconds passed, Oliver seemed to be getting more and more uneasy, seated there.

"It's not even making any sense. How come I'm the only lead you've got, why does it seem so one-sided?" Oliver protested.

"Shh… I'll ask the questions around here," the detective said.

"Like I said earlier, so many clues links to you, mister Logan, little but meaningful details. Coupled with the reports of you being the first to be seen with the already attacked victim, covered in his blood, reports also have it that you hadn't been on very good terms with the victim, for a while now. You've been having a serious fight with him, one that even your principal is aware of. Witnesses say the victim bullied you, and even caused you a critical injury, one time, and that the both of you were reportedly seen almost on the verge of starting a fight, on several occasions. So, what do you have to say about this?" he asked Oliver.

"I have nothing to say. You're right, though," Oliver answered casually.

"Having confirmed that, in other words, you two were more like worst enemies. So tell me, mister Logan, why should anyone believe you were trying to save the victim in those woods; someone who had caused you so much harm, making your stay here a living hell? What proof do you have to convince me that what happened in the woods wasn't an act of vengeance that unexpectedly went too far?" he asked Oliver.

"I didn't do it sir, I swear, I didn't. Believe me, I'm no murderer. I never tried to harm Alex, I mean… why would I? He had even apologized, and I had already forgiven him. As a matter of fact, I wasn't the only one with him in the woods, Jasper was… there as well," Oliver said that last part angrily, almost exposing the fact that Jasper came out from the innermost part of the woods, which means he was there before Oliver. He going to say Jasper should be the suspect, instead of him, but he figured out he had no clear evidence on that yet.

"Well, mister Jasper was there too, as you say, whereas you, on the other hand, were there before him. I'm afraid, you have no evidence of your innocence, mister Logan," the detective said.

"Hold on, detective. I didn't expect you would ask such questions in this interrogation. You clearly can see the boy is no clawed or fanged beast. He's just twelve, for crying out loud! What is the need for all this?" the principal asked him.

"Who said we're looking for a clawed creature?" Detective Specter said, "My best men searched the woods earlier today, they hardly could find a common squirrel. This is no animal, Mr principal, I assume the attacker purposely made use of a claw-like weapon to trick us into thinking it was an animal attack."

"I totally disagree on that, detective, our orphans don't harbor harmful objects or weapons," the principal protested.

"It was a werewolf," Oliver muttered under his breath, finally letting the cat out of the bag.

"Wait, what did you just say?" the detective asked, with his eyes wide with shock.

"I said it was a werewolf that did it," Oliver sounded clearer.

It felt as if Oliver had just dropped a bombshell because right now there was a spine-shilling moment of silence. They were all stunned at the shocking comment Oliver had just made. Oliver was starting to wish he hadn't said anything, because right now he see the barrage of questions displayed on each of their faces, ready to be unleashed at him.

"Mister Logan, why do you say it's a werewolf?" the detective asked Oliver.

"Not only do I say it, I know it, and I can prove it to you," answered Oliver.

"Wait a minute, this can't be true, werewolves no longer even exist around here," the principal said.

"Well, maybe they do now. I saw tracks of large paw prints and strangely long claw marks on the barks of several trees in the woods yesterday. If you're men actually searched the woods today, then they should've seen it," Oliver explained.

"A werewolf… how fascinating," exclaimed the detective.

"I guess the question that should be asked right now, is who is the werewolf because even werewolves have names," he added.

"Aren't you finished, Detective Specter," asked the principal.

"Perhaps I'd like to confirm the evidence myself. I need to gather sufficient information to be delivered to the headquarters" the detective said, then he brought out a black card from his breast pocket and handed it to Oliver.

"If you learn anything else, don't hesitate to inform me," he said to Oliver.

The principal was about to escort him outside when he suddenly stopped and told him, "I know my way out Mr principal," then he went on his own, straight out through the door.

When Oliver came out of the staff's room, he met Felicity standing by the door.

"Hay," she called out to him, with a shy smile.

Oliver wondered if she had been waiting out there all this while.

"I was on my way downstairs when I heard you were in there. The detective just got out moments ago, looks like you're no longer going with him after all," she said.

"Yeah, uh… thanks to the principal," replied Oliver.

They both were about to head down to the old library when Oliver heard Jasper calling him from behind. His heart skipped at the sound of his voice. It was finally the moment he had been anticipating, it was now or never.