Back at the house, Stiles lay motionless, his body occasionally twitching. A faint, strange cracking sound emerged from his leg—a sound so unnatural that anyone awake would have been unsettled. But Eli, exhausted and oblivious, had already drifted into a deep sleep.
"Twee twee... chirp chirp." Birds began to sing as dawn broke, their songs filtering through the window and rousing Eli from slumber. His eyes fluttered open, momentarily confused. It took him a second to realize he'd fallen asleep right there on the couch, his body heavy with the lingering ache of the night before. His stomach growled, the loud rumble cutting through his daze, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in what felt like forever. As he pieced together fragments of the night, a sudden thought hit him—Stiles...
He rose, still slightly dazed, and wandered into the kitchen, where he saw Mrs. Macall calmly assembling a sandwich. The sight was jarring, her calmness so at odds with the surreal events he remembered. Didn't Stiles break his leg? Eli wondered. He scanned the wall clock—9:00 a.m.
"Good morning, Mrs. Macall," he said, rubbing his eyes as he tried to shake off the lingering confusion.
"Morning, Eli! Have a good rest?" she asked, her voice warm as she placed some bread slices on a plate.
Eli nodded, trying to make sense of it all. "Where's Stiles?" he asked, an edge of worry creeping into his voice.
Mrs. Macall looked at him strangely. "It's a school day, remember?" she replied, studying his face.
Eli's brow furrowed as he blurted out, "But… what about his leg?"
Mrs. Macall paused, giving him a puzzled look. "His leg? Is there something wrong with it?"
A sense of unreality washed over Eli. Was it all a dream? His body still ached as though he'd been running, and he felt an unmistakable weariness as if he hadn't slept at all. He shook his head, the line between dream and reality blurring in a way that left him dizzy. "Sorry, I… I had a really vivid dream," he murmured.
"Oh, I know how that is!" she said with a light laugh. "By the way, I made some extra sandwiches for you. I could hear your stomach grumbling all the way from the kitchen!" She giggled, gesturing toward a stack of sandwiches she'd prepared.
Eli turned away, cheeks burning, as he walked to the table. Six sandwiches lay neatly stacked on a plate: some filled with bacon, others with eggs, and two with both. His hunger gnawed at him, not wanting to seem ungrateful. He ate quickly, feeling warmth spread as he devoured the food, though it barely dented the hunger gnawing at him. Soon he was ready to go, waiting for his father to take him back to the loft.
As he waited, Eli felt something small and smooth in his pocket. He pulled out a clear marble, recalling how he'd meant to make it his next permanent item. How had I forgotten about this? he thought. The marble felt cool and reassuring in his hand, a little anchor to reality. He turned it over, staring through its clear depths, but his thoughts returned to last night: the strange wolf-creature, its terrifying regeneration, and desire to hunt Stiles. Why did it come after him?
With a sigh, he wandered onto Scott's balcony, where the view stretched out over the edge of the forest. Holding the marble in his palm, he whispered, "Upgrade." Unlike before, he let the process unfold slowly, taking his time as energy seeped into the marble, leaving a warm tingle in his fingertips. Half an hour passed, and finally, he saw the stats appear before his eyes:
Item: Focus Marble
Attribute: Spirit
Defense: 9/15
Attack: 1/5
Description: "Fidgeting with it slightly reduces anxiety."
Eli frowned slightly, confused by the stat "attribute." What does that even mean? he thought, rolling the marble between his fingers. Before he could ponder further, a car engine rumbled outside, snapping him from his thoughts. Looking down, he saw his father's car pulling up to the curb, and a small smile crept over his face. He was glad to be heading back to the loft.
When they arrived, Eli noticed something new—a large, boxy computer set up on a desk. The screen, thick and bulky, loomed in the corner, casting a faint hum over the quiet room. Eli moved toward it, curiosity piqued, but his father's voice interrupted him.
"Hey, don't look at that one. Here, take this instead." His father handed him a small, square device with tiny buttons.
Eli took it, turning it over in his hands. "What… what is this?" he asked.
"It's a phone. I got it for you. You can use it to call people… and even use the internet."
Eli's eyes widened, marveling at the small device. "We have internet?" he asked, as though he'd been given the keys to an endless library.
His father nodded. Eli had used computers in the library before, looking up plants and insects and other things his mother had taught him about. But now, he held a miniature computer in his hand, with access to anything he wanted to know. "Thanks," he said, his gratitude genuine.
He spent a few minutes exploring the phone, still feeling the eerie presence in the loft. But now, it felt less intense, like the eyes watching him had closed for a moment. As curiosity took over, he typed in "kitsune" into the search bar, wanting to know more about the name in the ring's description.
In Japanese folklore, kitsune are foxes with supernatural abilities that grow stronger as they age. Known for their shape-shifting powers, kitsune often take on human form, using their abilities to deceive or enchant those around them.
Eli's stomach twisted as he read, feeling a strange, unsettling connection between the folklore and the reality he was beginning to uncover. Shapeshifters. The word seemed impossible, like something from a fantasy novel, yet here he was, face-to-face with the reality of it. He looked out the window at the police car parked outside. The officers no longer watched his family as vigilantly as they once had, though they hadn't fully relaxed, either.
He scanned the faces in the car, noting that the detective he'd come to suspect as a kitsune wasn't there. A possibility struck him: he be must be at the hospital, watching over my mom. Eli shivered at the thought, the realization settling deep into his bones. If that detective was indeed a shapeshifter, he might not be the only one. And if his mother was being watched, there had to be a reason.
A chill ran down his spine as he pieced it together. Shapeshifters. Creatures moving unseen among humans, blending in and manipulating events right in front of people's eyes. The more he thought about it, the more questions bubbled up inside him—questions that filled him with equal parts dread and fascination. He felt an intense need to understand this world hidden beneath the surface of his own.
With a sense of purpose, Eli gripped his phone. If shapeshifters are real, then I need to know what they're capable of. I need to understand how they work, who they are, and why they're here. His mind raced with questions, and he could feel the beginning of an obsession to get to the truth, an obsession that would drive him to learn everything he could about shapeshifters, starting now. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and typed his first search into the phone, feeling that he was about to uncover secrets that would change everything.