WEREWOLF SYSTEM

Kyle's POV

The assembly was quiet—too quiet for a room filled with hundreds of students. The principal stood at the podium, his face pale and solemn as he read from a sheet of paper, the usual steady tone of his voice replaced by something mechanical. "It is with great sadness that we confirm the missing student, James Conrad, has been found… deceased. The school is deeply affected by this loss, and we urge students to reach out to the counseling office if you need support during this difficult time."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. My stomach churned as the words "found deceased" echoed in my mind. Around me, students whispered anxiously, heads swiveling as though they were waiting for something—or someone—to snap.

Elena sat two rows ahead of me, her posture stiff and unmoving, her head slightly tilted as if she were listening more closely than anyone else. Even from this distance, I could feel something… different about her today. Her usual indifference was replaced by something sharper, almost fragile.

The assembly ended as abruptly as it started, with students filing out of the auditorium, most in hushed conversations. I tried to catch up to Elena, but she was gone before I could even call her name.

The idea of heading to my next class seemed impossible, so I decided to skip. My curiosity about the missing—now dead—student was eating at me, but more than that, Elena's words from the cafeteria replayed in my head like a broken record:

"Maybe it's better if you don't know."

I made my way to the library instead, needing space to think. The room was dimly lit, the faint smell of aged paper filling the air. I wandered through the aisles, letting my fingers trail along the spines of the books. My thoughts felt tangled, and for the first time, I realized how little I knew about this school, about the people in it, and about whatever the hell was going on.

"Looking for something specific?"

The voice startled me, and I turned to see a tall, older man standing by the circulation desk. His gray hair was neatly combed, and his round glasses magnified sharp, observant eyes. He had an air of calm authority, the kind of person who seemed to know things you didn't.

"Uh, not really. Just… browsing," I said, trying to sound casual.

He gave a small smile. "Browsing in the history section? That's not something I see often." He motioned to the row of books I was standing near.

"I guess I was curious," I admitted.

"About the school… About what's been happening."

His expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing, young man. Especially around here."

I frowned. "Why do you say that?"

He stepped closer, leaning slightly on the counter. "Hilton Way College isn't as new as it looks. It's been rebuilt, rebranded, and redecorated more times than I can count, but the history of this place… well, let's just say it's not all in the brochures."

"Like what?"

"Unfortunate events," he said simply. "Disappearances, accidents, rumors of things that can't be explained. Most of it gets swept under the rug or dismissed as teenage imagination. But if you dig deep enough, you'll find that the past has a way of leaving its mark."

I felt a chill run down my spine. "Have you worked here long?"

"Long enough to know that the truth is often hidden in plain sight." He leaned back, his gaze steady. "You're new here, aren't you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Just transferred."

"Then take my advice," he said. "Focus on your studies, make some friends, and leave the past where it belongs."

I wasn't sure how to respond. His tone wasn't threatening, but there was a weight to his words that I couldn't ignore.

"Thanks… I guess," I said, turning to leave.

"Oh, and Kyle," he called after me. I froze. I hadn't told him my name.

"Yes?" I said, turning back slowly.

"If you ever need help finding something, don't hesitate to ask." He smiled again, but this time it felt different—less warm, more knowing.

I spent the next hour sifting through old newspapers in the library's archives. Most of the headlines were mundane—sports achievements, charity drives, teacher retirements—but then I found something that made my breath catch.

"BROTHERS MISSING IN WOODS: FEARED DROWNED."

The article was dated five years ago. Two teenage brothers had gone missing near a river in the woods after planning a swim with friends. The names weren't listed—just "teen brothers." My mind immediately went to Elena's story about her brothers. Could this be them?

The article mentioned a search party, but the bodies were never found. The river was deep and treacherous, the currents strong enough to drag anything—or anyone—out of sight. I leaned back in my chair, the pieces swirling in my head like a puzzle with too many missing parts.

Elena's POV

I saw him in the library. Of course I did. Kyle was like a moth to a flame, always drawn to the things he should avoid. I watched from the corner of the room as he spoke with Mr. Holloway. The librarian was kind enough, but he had a way of seeing through people, and I wasn't sure Kyle was ready for that.

He didn't notice me. I stayed in the shadows, watching as he pored over old newspapers. When he found the article about the river, I saw the way his body tensed, his jaw tightening as his eyes scanned the page. He was putting it together, bit by bit.

I should've stopped him. I should've walked over, closed the paper, and told him to leave it alone. But I didn't. Part of me wanted to see how far he'd go, how much he'd figure out. Maybe it was selfish, but I was tired of carrying all of this on my own.

When he finally left, I stayed behind, staring at the article he'd left open on the desk. My brothers' faces weren't in the paper, but I could see them in my mind as clearly as if they were standing in front of me. Their laughter, their voices, the way they used to tease me about being too serious all the time.

I clenched my fists. I couldn't let Kyle get too close to this. Not yet.

Kyle's POV

I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched as I walked out of the library. Maybe it was just paranoia, but something about this place was starting to get under my skin.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see yet another notification:

"Update: Witness claims to have seen 'something' near the woods before James Conrad's death."

Something. Not someone?

I glanced back toward the library, the image of Elena sitting in the cafeteria flashing through my mind. Her words echoed again: "Maybe it's better if you don't know."

She was wrong. I had to know.