The entire orphanage was stricken with a dark hideous fog of dread as news about the recent tragic incident spread swiftly all over the place like wildfire. There were so many questions, doubts, and terror in the minds of everyone. After the first attack occurred, the principal had given them hope and assurance that the safety of everyone was guaranteed, but with what happened today, each person now had their hands clutched against their chests in terror.
Most of them became convinced what Oliver said was the truth, that there truly was a werewolf in the orphanage, and he or she still walked amongst them even then. They were aware now that the orphanage which once stood as their safe sanctuary had become a dystopia of direful uncertainty; a place where close friends would no longer trust each other, and you'd constantly glance over your shoulder while walking through a lonely passage, with fear of being stalked like a prey by some pitiless gut tearing beast.
The orphans had become so vulnerable, that no one knew if he/she was the next victim, and each had a constant prayer of safety in their mouth.
Oliver had so much on his mind, more than anyone else. First of all, he felt that by seeing the vision at hand, it was his responsibility to prevent the boy from getting attacked, but he failed because he arrived late, and because of that he felt a tumult of self-reproach.
Oliver was also in serious panic and worry that the werewolf seemed to have grown more deadly and audacious to have brought the attack to the school building, rather than in the woods like the last time. However, right now his main panic was due to the question he had just been asked by Olivia Anderson.
The question that Oliver just heard Olivia ask him was a very stunning one. It was one question he least expected anyone to just ask him randomly because his psychic visions were most likely his best-kept secret which he made sure no one found out about, except he told them himself. For someone like Olivia Anderson who wasn't anyway close to him to just bring up such a question out of the blues, was so unbelievable for Oliver. He simply assumed she meant something else, or he had just misheard her.
"I didn't quite get, would you say that again please?" Oliver asked her, just to be sure.
"You heard me clearly," she told him, "You had a psychic vision that time in the hallway, that was how you knew this was going to happen.
Oliver couldn't believe it. He heard her so well this time, and he could see she really meant what she said.
"What are you talking about?" he said, "How is that even possible since I'm just a mundane?" he asked her, still in his casual expressionless tone.
Olivia scoffed.
"You do know I was there with you the entire time," she told him. "I know what you are, Oliver," she added with a cunning smirk.
"You're totally making a mistake right now," Oliver said, "believe me or don't believe me, I don't see visions, and that remains the truth."
"Lying doesn't fit you," she said to him. "I always knew you were hiding something, and now I know you're a psychic."
"Honestly, why do you always seem to have a problem with me?" he asked her. "Even if I'm a psychic, what are you going to do, report me to… to the principal or something?"
"Believe me, I would have done worse," she said, "But fortunately, I'm psychic too, and I need your help." She sounded so genuine.
Oliver's icy blue eyes widened slightly in massive astonishment and disbelief at what he had just heard. It sounded like she had just dropped an absolute bombshell, as the statement she made was both unexpected and unbelievable to his ears. He was frozen at a spot momentarily, literally short of words and expressions. He kept wondering if what she said was true and if so, what kind of help she needed from him, but then he suspected she might be trying to get him to confess with his mouth that he was a psychic, so he said nothing else to her.
Just at that moment, one of the HCI agents approached them and informed Oliver that the lead detective; Detective Specter, wished to have a word with him.
"Before you go, I know you must have so many questions," Olivia said, "Meet me at the Pope's catacombs this evening and I'll explain everything."
Oliver was led by the HCI official who was sent to call him. The lead detective moved about the scene of the attack, solemnly engrossed in his inspections. By now the place was almost entirely cleared out, with only a few staff and of course, some HCI agents carrying out inspections too. Seeing Oliver coming with the officer, a smirk gradually formed on the detective's long bony face.
"Detective Specter," Oliver called him as he arrived.
"If it isn't my friend from last time," the detective replied, "Oliver Logan, if I may."
He walked across to where Oliver stood, his narrow thoughtful eyes fixed upon him like a prying cat.
"I never expected I'd set my eyes on those perplexing eyes of yours again," he said.
"Well if you and your men had done your jobs well the last time rather than point unreasonable accusations at the wrong person, you wouldn't have had to come back here," Oliver said, with a bit of anger in his tone.
The detective gave a snide smile, mumbling something to himself.
"I'm here again inspecting yet another tragic incident, and speaking of unreasonable accusations, just like last time, you were reportedly among those that first saw the victimized, or so you claimed. In my highly professional opinion, I wouldn't call it a coincidence being among the first to discover an already attacked victim of a similar mysterious attacker, for two consecutive times," the detective said.
"Call it whatever you want, I don't care," Oliver said, "But I do know one thing; there's a werewolf in this orphanage, and the boy that was attacked today, that's his latest victim."
"By using the pronoun 'his', do you mean this werewolf is a male like there's someone you're suspecting?" the detective asked with narrow thoughtful eyes steadily fixed on him, with his brows arching slightly.
"Why should I tell you anything when you already think of me as the attacker?" Oliver asked.
"I haven't arrived at any conclusion," the detective said, "I'm just trying to keep an open mind."
"I told you last time that it was a werewolf but you didn't believe me, instead you termed me your prime suspect, probably because you find my looks sinister, or maybe I seem intimidating even to you. Now it has happened again and you still want to make the same mistake suspecting the wrong person. Well, guess what, this time around you have nothing on me because Olivia was there with me the whole time, she can testify how it all happened," Oliver explained.
The principal had arrived there moments ago and he didn't seem comfortable with the length of the conversation yet.
"Aren't you finished, detective?" he finally asked.
"You are not to tell me my job, my principal," replied the detective.
"Then try to be more professional," the principal said rather bluntly.
"This approach of yours is gradually becoming a display of child harassment, and I can not allow that to continue. He's just thirteen years old for crying out loud," he added.
"Perhaps, I'll need to question the alibi as well, for reference purposes," the detective said.
Turning to Oliver, he said; "It seems like you know a little something, son. If you ever feel like telling me, don't hesitate to call."
He brought out a black business card from his inner breast pocket and handed it over to him.
"Oh, no need, I already have one from last time," Oliver said, returning the card.
"Then you've got quite the collection," the detective said, neatly inserting the card in his breast pocket, and smoothening the sides of his collars.
"I can leave now, right?" Oliver asked.
"Yes you can leave," replied the detective.
"Not so fast, mister Logan," the principal said shortly.
"You're coming with me to my office," he said, "we need to talk."