Tyler snarled and lunged, his claws slashing straight for Ethan's throat.
Ethan slipped aside at the last second. The claws cut nothing but air.
Before Tyler could recover, Ethan wrenched a chunk of the stone railing free—granite shrieking as it tore loose—and swung it like a club. The impact landed squarely on Tyler's face.
CRACK.
Tyler was launched backward, his body smashing through the edge of the balcony. He vanished from sight—
—then hit the quad below with a bone-rattling THUD.
Stone cracked. Benches skidded.
Tyler groaned, claws digging into the ground as he forced himself upright. His head rang, vision swimming, but the rage burned hotter than the pain. He refused to lose again. Not to him.
He looked up.
Ethan stood at the balcony's edge, calm as ever, torn shirt fluttering slightly in the night air. That same look. Disdainful. Unimpressed.
Tyler growled, low and feral.
He ripped a bench from the ground, wood splintering in his grip, and hurled it upward with a roar.
Ethan didn't move.
The bench shattered against the stone just short of him, debris raining down into the quad.
Ethan leaned forward slightly, cracking his knuckles.
"Still throwing furniture?" he called down. "You're really embracing the school spirit."
Tyler's roar shook the quad as he charged again, fury overriding reason, while above him Ethan stepped off the balcony—
—and dropped straight down to meet him.
Ethan hit the ground in front of Tyler before it could recover.
A claw swept for Ethan's throat—
Ethan caught it.
Fingers locked around the wrist, muscles tightening, veins flaring red under his skin. Tyler roared and tried to wrench free, but Ethan stepped in and drove a punch straight into his face.
CRACK.
Tyler staggered back.
Ethan didn't let go.
He pulled Tyler forward by the arm and slammed another punch into his jaw. Then another. Then another. Each hit landed harder than the last, bone snapping, blood spraying as Tyler's head whipped back and forth.
Tyler clawed wildly, strength failing as Ethan dragged him across the quad, arm still locked in his grip. Tyler was smashed into benches, stone planters, iron railings—wood exploded, metal bent, stone cracked.
Ethan swung him once.
Twice.
Like beating a soaked rag against rock.
With a final roar, Ethan spun and hurled Tyler straight up into the air.
Tyler flew.
Before he could land, Ethan bent his knees and launched himself after him—jumping unnaturally high—caught up midair—
—and brought his heel down.
The kick drove Tyler straight into the ground.
BOOM.
Stone shattered. Dust and debris blasted outward as Tyler cratered into the quad, body twitching once before going still.
Ethan landed a heartbeat later.
He looked down at Tyler's broken form.
Tyler lay crumpled in the shattered stone, bones clearly broken. Blood spread beneath him, seeping into the cracks. Cuts lined his body, fresh and bleeding.
He should've been dead.
But his eyes were still open.
Rage burned in them—pure, animal, unspent. His claws twitched. His chest jerked with uneven breaths. The fury hadn't faded.
Only his body had.
Ethan stayed where he was, watching.
"Still angry," he said quietly. "Shame your body disagrees."
Xavier and Bianca stared at the scene below, confusion written across their faces.
What the hell is this guy? they wondered as he fought the monster with almost effortless ease.
***
After some time, police sirens cut through the night air, sharp and insistent. Someone had finally called it in. With the quad half-destroyed and students scattered, it was inevitable—this was far beyond what Nevermore could quietly contain.
Squad cars rolled onto the grounds, lights flashing red and blue against the scorched stone. Officers spilled out, followed closely by Sheriff Galpin.
He took in the scene in a single glance—the shattered benches, the gouged stone, the smell of smoke and blood.
Then he saw the crater.
His breath caught.
Tyler lay at its center, broken and bleeding, barely conscious. Blood soaked into the ground beneath him.
"Tyler," Galpin said, the word torn out of him.
The shock lasted only a second.
Then his face hardened, jaw tightening as fury replaced disbelief. His hand curled into a fist as he straightened slowly, eyes burning as he looked up at the devastation around him.
Whatever had happened here—whoever had done this—was going to answer for it.
"You came at a good time, Sheriff," Ethan said casually, sipping a can of Coke as he sat on the chair. "Arrest your son. And maybe put me in cuffs if it helps you feel balanced."
"You," Galpin said, pulling his gun. His hand shook—not with fear, but rage. "You did this to my son."
Ethan barely reacted. He looked bored. Unimpressed.
Before Galpin could take another step, a sharp voice cut through the tension.
"Sheriff. Lower the weapon."
Principal Weems stepped forward, rigid, furious.
"I suggest you stop pointing a gun at my student," she said, every word clipped, "and start arresting your son."
Galpin turned on her. "Do you have any idea what you're accusing—"
"What is this?" he demanded, though something in his voice faltered.
Wednesday stepped beside Weems, calm as ever.
"The serial killings in Jericho," she said. "The monster responsible. It's your son."
Galpin scoffed. "And your proof?"
Wednesday gestured to the quad.
"Everyone here," she replied. "Every student saw the monster attack. They watched it transform back into human form—into your son."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"And if that's not sufficient," Wednesday continued, unbothered, "there's also the small matter of him attacking Nevermore students tonight with intent to kill. Again. Witnessed. Repeatedly."
Around the quad, the students nodded in quiet agreement with Wednesday's words.
*****
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