Bloodstained record

Wednesday, 12:30 pm.

That bright sunny afternoon, the principal; Father Moses, had a very important visitor with him in his office. It was a baldheaded man, probably in his late forties, smartly dressed in a black suit and a pair of dark shady glasses. He had a metal badge attached to his chest, similar to those worn by the regular HCI agents, but the only difference was that he was gold instead of the regular silver-plated ones. No doubt, he was a top-ranked agent. Judging by the way he showed his card to the principal, he was an ability user, the kind that moves objects without physical contact with them.

"So... Detective... You were going to discuss some crucial issues last week, before the call from the capital," the principal told him.

"Oh yes... About that, we do have a top investigation currently going on, concerning a ward of yours that was newly admitted here, following the strange deaths of both parents," the man replied.

The principal briefly adjusted his seat.

"Tell me, detective, how is this investigation related to a ward of mine?" he asked.

"Subject is recorded a multiple times prime suspect in various hyper crime, mostly murder-related cases. The subject's current case is about the strange demise of the subject's late parents."

"The agency needs the orphanage to help keep a close eye on the suspect, and supply usable information according to the monitored observation," the man said.

"Wait, are you asking me to spy on my own ward? As much as I respect the agency, that, I cannot do. I will forever protect the cause of this academic and orphanage citadel. By the way, shouldn't I have a look at the case file, before considering falling for your obvious fairytale?" the principal asked.

"You do know that is classified information, unauthorized sharing isn't tolerable. Do know that the ministry is looking forward to your cooperation, otherwise, the deal would be terminated," said the HCI agent.

Oliver sat by the reading desk behind the large window, laying out the details of his recent investigation on a wide green cardboard. Max had left the room almost an hour ago, at that moment, his only companion was the blue elf; Ugly.

Lately, Oliver has been teaching the elf how to read, write, and count, and he was greatly marveled by its quick learning abilities. Presently, Ugly knew how to write over twenty words, and perform some simple arithmetic calculations.

Oliver was linking his first investigation about the unidentified boys he saw that night, with the werewolf from his vision. So far, most evidence seemed to be pointing toward one direction, and the more investigations he made, the more he dug up clues that pointed further toward that same direction, making it seem less like a coincidence.

"This is so terrible. What if the werewolf has been near me all along?" Oliver muttered to himself, thoughtfully.

"Is Oliver Logan suspecting his only friend is the monster?" Ugly asked him.

Oliver looked at him.

"I've told you before, Ugly, I have no friend. Look, humans aren't as good as you think they are. Most times, you can't just tell who can be trusted," Oliver said.

"About Jasper, there's just so much about him that links to the werewolf. You see... aside from emotions, my visions are sometimes triggered by contact, and I can remember him holding my hand before the vision took over. Also, the book says in chapter twelve, that werewolf are mostly seen at night, at odd places too, and I think he was one of those boys I spotted that night," Oliver explained.

"The book also said that werewolves tend to stalk their prey over a long period, before executing the attack, and Jasper just seemed to have been somehow stalking Felicity, for him have known where she was, even though he wasn't told. Another awkward thing about this is that he's also reading this book."

Ugly gazed up at him with wide green eyes, mystified by his words.

"But... What if Jasper is not the monster?" Ugly asked, with a low timorous voice

"I'm afraid it might be him, yet I still haven't come to the conclusion, because one way or the other, we all have that dark part of us that we can't control, no matter what. In some people, it comes as an unguarded rage that causes them to unconsciously harbor within themselves, alien animalistic personalities. In others, it comes as a hideous aftermath of an unfathomable tragedy. It could also come as that strong desire to feel powerful, for a change, that craving hunger to repay all those that have ever hurt them, twice as much pain that was inflicted on them, " he said.

Oliver left the hostel to prepare his things. The selected contestants for the spelling bee competition will be flown to New York City; where the competition will be hosted. A hotel room was already reserved for their stay that night. The competition would commence the next day, at Madison Square Garden.

While walking along the pathway, Oliver suddenly overheard someone say something nonchalantly, but it urgently got his attention. The person mentioned sighting a flash of pale blue, and that meant something to him. He immediately began to look around for Ugly.

"Where the hell are you, Ugly?" he muttered under his breath, as he searched for the elf.

Oliver carefully checked all the hidden corners in which a small creature like that was likely to dodge in, yet he couldn't even find a five inches footprint of the elf, not to talk of seeing him. Heading back on the path, something suddenly quickened his alertness.

"Oh no... This is bad," he muttered, his voice edging with dread.

Just a little distance from where he was, he could see Ugly walking freely on the path, as if nothing would ever happen. Oliver couldn't get how nobody seemed to be seeing the elf. Maybe it was because they were all so busy, that no one cares again about the things on the ground, he wondered. He immediately hurried to where it was, and quickly swooped it out of the path, under the shades where no one else could easily notice them.

"What is wrong with you, Ugly, why are you out here?" Oliver said, with a scolding tone.

"What the hell were you thinking? I've warned you before, you cannot be seen by anyone," he added.

"Ugly is worried about Oliver Logan, Ugly wants to come with Oliver Logan," Ugly replied in a low fainthearted tone, with his eyes wide like he would burst out in tears at any moment, and nibbling mousily on his fingers.

Oliver scoffed irritatedly.

"Quit being so skittish, and listen clearly. That is never gonna happen. If you come, you'd get yourself killed," he whispered, constantly looking over his shoulders.

"It's too dangerous, even for me, and I don't want you as an extra burden. I was strictly warned not to go, but since I have no other choice, I'll just try to be extra careful. As for you, you're going back to the hostel right now, and you wouldn't dare to leave that closet again," Oliver said.

He took off his empty backpack and unzipped it.

"Don't look at me like that, get in the bag, right now," he ordered.

Ugly hesitatingly climbed up inside the old-fashioned black backpack, after which, Oliver began to zip it close.

As Oliver struggled with the stiff zipper, he heard a familiar voice from behind him.

"Were you just... talking to yourself?" the voice said to him.

It was Felicity that spoke to him. He was surprised to hear her talk to him, but he didn't look at her yet. He was still on one knee, zipping his bag with enthusiasm.

"I didn't realize we're now on speaking terms," Oliver said with a casual tone.

There was no response from her.

Oliver suddenly turned to her, with straight inquiring eyes.

"Wait, how long have you been here?" he asked, with a sudden sense of urgency in his voice.

"Not long at all. I just got here," she replied.

Oliver let out a silent sigh. He put on his bag and stood up. She immediately looked elsewhere, the moment his eyes met with hers.

"Um... I really appreciate what you did for me yesterday, standing up for me. You're a lifesaver," Oliver said.

She chuckled nervously.

"Nah... That was nothing," she said.

"Um... Speaking of yesterday, I found out you're really good in trig, so wanted to ask; do you really mean what you said?" she asked him.

"Sure, I do. I want to teach you all I know in trigonometry, so next time you wouldn't have to..."

Oliver stopped as he saw the way she stared at him with desperation.

"It's okay if you don't want, though. I could come up with..." Oliver said but was quickly interrupted.

"I want it!" she cut in before he could complete the statement.

Oliver was a bit puzzled.

"I mean... I wouldn't mind learning trigonometry from you," she said, with seriousness in her tone, and desperate green eyes.

"That would be great, then. So, we'll be meeting during free periods, at the old library?" Oliver suggested.

"Yeah," she muttered, as a smile of gratitude gradually brightened up her face.

Oliver gazed straight at her face, with a slight but rare warmth in his eyes.

"So... You guys would be off, any moment from now, for... the competition," she said.

He glanced at the face of his wristwatch.

"And... It's almost time. I better get going," he muttered.

"Good luck, then," she said to him.

Oliver began to make his way out to the pathway.

"Oliver!" she called out to him.

He paused and turned to her.

"You don't know how much this really means to me. Thank you," she said at last.

The day was almost passed. Following the long ride to the local airport, Oliver, along with the two other competitors, Sister Mary Jane Mathews, and professor Eric MacDonald, boarded the jet to New York.

They had taken off about ten minutes ago. The jet hit quite a bit of turbulence, but now it was flying calmly. Oliver was seated quietly on his seat, solving math on his small draft book, Lilah sat behind him, memorizing more new words from a big wordbook, while Olivia was two sits ahead of him, earnestly tapping away on her phone's screen.

All of a sudden, Oliver heard a familiar voice, calling his name, but the voice didn't seem to be sounding from anywhere in particular.

"Ugly?" he muttered in astonishment, as he looked around purposefully.

"It is Ugly," the voice said.

"But... Where are you?"

"Ugly is inside the scary musty bag where Oliver Logan put Ugly," it said.

Oliver looked up and found out that his bag was moving in an awkward animate manner. He had forgotten to keep Ugly back in the hostel.

"Oh my god, you came," he muttered, "But... your voice doesn't seem to be coming from the bag."

"Wait a minute, am I hearing your voice in my head "