My not-so-happy birthday

There was silence now although the woods. Oliver couldn't hear anything else apart from the violent pounding of his heart, and of course, the steady footsteps of the approaching person. Temporarily blinded by the very bright beam of white light focused on his eyes, Oliver had not a single clue where he was, or who was behind the light.

Oliver suspected it was the night guard, or maybe some HCI sent to inspect the woods. He was in really big panic, he couldn't think of any other thing now, except the fact that there was no believable explanation he could come up with as to why he was out in the woods, minutes past bedtime. Right now, he wished he hadn't changed his mind to come back, after all the struggles he went through to finally make it out. Though he couldn't tell who it was that had caught him, he just knew it was someone meant to take him straight to the principal any moment from now.

"Well well, look who it is," said a gruff voice.

"Mr. Garret," Oliver muttered, in surprise.

Oliver recognized the voice at once. He could easily tell by the slight roughness in the sound, that it was the hostel master; Mr Garret.

"I knew you were up to something really under-the-counter the moment I met you at those stairs, so when I found out that Sister Abigail never really sent for me, I went after you," Mr Garret explained, sounding really proud of himself.

"Interesting," Oliver replied, "Now that you've seen me, do you mind flashing your light somewhere else so we can talk like civilized people? I can't see."

"Where is the other one?!" Mr Garret asked him.

The other what?" replied Oliver, sounding a bit confused.

"The other person with you, where is he?" he asked.

Oliver knew at once that he must've heard him talking to Ugly.

"There was no other person with me," Oliver replied, "I'm here alone."

"Don't you dare lie to me, I heard you talk to someone when I switched on my flashlight," he said to Oliver.

"I swear on my late father, I am not lying," Oliver insisted.

"I knew there was something off about you, son," he told Oliver.

"I know," Oliver replied, "and you're not the first either."

"What is it that you're up to, anyway, eh, what are you doing out here?!" he asked Oliver, sounding brusque and impatient.

Oliver sighed.

"I'm sorry sir, I won't answer that question, since you're not in the position to interrogate me. You should be in the dormitory minding your business, rather than being out here, yet you thought it was wise to abandon your duty post and do the job of a night guard," said Oliver.

"Smart try. Wanna know what else is smart? " a . Garret asked, "taking you right now to explain yourself to the principal."

"Believe me, I saw that coming," Oliver said, "I always knew men like you aren't capable enough to handle me. How embarrassing it is for you."

"Cut the crap up, you little nuisance. You think you're so smart, eh? Better buckle up, you have a lot of explaining to do," replied Mr. Garret, then he went with Oliver to meet the principal.

When they got to the principal's quarters, Mr. Garret reported everything to him. Since it was already late, Oliver was sent back to the hostel but ended up spending the night at the infirmary, as he found out that the injury he had sustained was not minor as he thought. The medic confirmed he had sustained a fairly fractured fibula from the fall.

The next morning, Oliver hurried out to the hostel to check out if Ugly had returned, but when he got there, the blue elf wasn't anywhere around the room. Oliver was worried that someone might see Ugly, and whether he likes it or not, he was going to take the risk of going back to the woods, even with his bad leg.

Oliver finally received the call he had been waiting for. The principal had sent for him to come to his office immediately after breakfast.

During breakfast, everyone was surprised to see Oliver's leg wrapped up in bandages. Hopefully, news about last night's incident hadn't reached anywhere yet. The majority were totally clueless about what resulted in the injury, whereas just a few had overheard just a little detail of what really transpired. It was quite a relief no one tried inquiring from him what happened, even Jasper whom he was certain would ask had not yet arrived at the hall. Soon, Oliver realized that the news about him was circulating faster than he expected, gradually becoming the major talk of the day.

After he was done eating, he hurried out to meet the principal at his office. Father Moses was already seated there when he arrived, reading from a large book. Oliver knocked again on the transparent door. The principal slightly raised his eyes to see who it was, then signaled to him to come in.

"How are you, Oliver?" the principal asked in his typical polite tone.

Oliver remained mute, with his eyes fixed on the ground.

"You've had quite a rough start here in Melrose, Oliver, and believe it or not, I am indeed sympathetic on your behalf," the principal said.

He cleared his throat and continued.

"You are a very bright child, Oliver, possessing special intellectual skills that are rarely seen in a child your age. I understand you must've been passing through a lot these past few weeks. Losing both parents at this early stage can be really traumatic, and that's why we are here to help you. You just need to break out of your shell and open up to us about what the problem is, rather than carrying all those burdens alone and attracting more trouble to yourself. You can't continue to create enmity with those there to help you," the principal said in a sympathizing tone.

"You can quit the pity now and go straight to the point, you seem desperate," Oliver said in his casual tone, with his head still buried to the ground.

The look of concern that was on the face of the principal slightly changed, with several furrows appearing on his brows.

He sighed silently.

"Last night, while every other person was already in bed, you were caught wandering through the woods. What could you possibly say in regard to this?"

"The truth, I guess," replied Oliver abruptly, immediately focusing his gaze on the principal.

The principal seemed a little more interested, adjusting his seat and removing his glasses so as to maintain direct eye contact with Oliver.

"I had intentions of leaving the orphanage for good, but along the line, I had to reconsider. I changed my mind not to leave, for now, and on my way back the hostel master saw me and brought me to you," Oliver explained.

"I really am impressed by your sincere honesty, Mr Logan, but I must say, I'm as well curious why you decide to flee the orphanage in the first place," the principal said.

"I hate it here, and apart from that, the orphanage is no longer safe," Oliver answered.

"You and I both know that there is a werewolf in here, yet you pretend you don't know, and then you go about feeding everyone with lies and false hopes of safety when apparently, their lives are at stake," Oliver said.

"I spoke with Doctor Driscoll recently, and he told me about your hallucinations," the principal said.

"What hallucinations?!" exclaimed Oliver, with a look of puzzlement.

"Hay, I understand it's very normal to have hallucinations after such tragic experiences," the principal said.

"Wait, that's not true," Oliver protested, "I don't hallucinate, the werewolf's paw prints that I saw were real. I swear, I know what I saw, and I bet you know too since this isn't the first."

"Hold on, what do you mean this isn't the first?" the principal asked, thoughtfully.

"I overheard someone saying something about history repeating itself," Oliver said.

"And what do you suppose that means?" the principal asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Oliver replied, "This is not the first werewolf outbreak."

Right now, there was a brief moment of silence.

The principal sighed wearily, deviating his gaze from young Oliver.

"I heard what happened back then," Oliver said, "Those orphans' lives weren't to be disposed of."

The principal's eyes widened in shock as he heard what Oliver had just said.

"Where did you hear all this?" he asked, meaningly.

"Sorry, my lips are sealed on this one," Oliver answered, "I guess I'm not the only one who's made enemies after all."

There was a brief moment of silence. The principal slowly put his head down remorsefully.

"I've… never been the most righteous of men. I was forced to make decisions I'll forever live to regret. But I… I had no other choice, I couldn't risk letting the orphanage get into the hands of the government," the principal explained.

"But you could risk the lives of seven orphans?" Oliver asked.

"I had no other choice, they were victims of the werewolf attack, apparently soon to turn. I had to protect the interest of the orphanage. It was quite hard, but I figured out that sometimes sacrifices must be made for the greater good, and that it was better to lose a few than to lose all," he explained to Oliver.

"By all, you mean your reputation?" Oliver asked.

"All I ever care about is keeping my orphans safe, Mr. Logan, keeping you safe. Do you know how terrible your lives would become if the government takes over here? Every responsibility comes with a sacrifice, and every sacrifice, a price."

"Does that apply to Alex as well?" Oliver asked, "He doesn't deserve this," he added.

"What do you mean?" the principal asked.

"You never sent him to an ICU, did you?" Oliver asked, "You let them take him to be used as lab rats, and transported like he were a common commodity."

The principal's eyes widened with disbelief. He began to wonder how on earth Oliver had managed to know this.

"We need to do something about this werewolf quick before things get really messy," Oliver suggested.

"We? No," the principal replied, "And as I told you before, there's no werewolf in this orphanage anymore."

"This conversation is over, Mr Logan. Leave this for the adults and authorities to handle," the principal added.

"From now on, your movement would be strictly monitored and restricted. Your off-campus privilege is hereby stripped off from you until further notice."

Right now, Oliver's mouth was hung open in shock. He couldn't believe what he had just heard.

"W… wait, you can't be serious," Oliver muttered, "you're not serious, right?"

"Oliver, I am serious. Look… this is for your own good," the principal said.

"By the way, happy birthday," he added, as he brought out a brown shoebox from under the desk, and slid it across the table, towards Oliver.

"I visited your old house this week, and I took the liberty of gathering up a few things I thought might be valuable to you," he explained.

Oliver picked up the box, uttering not a single word.

"I hope this new age brings warmth to your heart, a smile to your face," the principal said with a look of concern and a reassuring smile.

"I can leave now, right," Oliver asked him.

The principal replied with a slight nod, and Oliver immediately went straight out of the office.