Ethan trailed Alex down a dimly lit corridor, his shoes scuffing against the worn floor. The air carried a faint metallic tang, like old coins, and a chill that seemed to seep from the walls. His mind churned with questions about Jessica, the mysterious figure no one seemed to trust. Alex’s shoulders were tense. Ethan’s curiosity gnawed at him—why the disdain? As they descended a narrow staircase, the creak of each step echoed. Ethan’s gaze wandered, trying to map the sprawling place. The level they’d just left stretched beneath a row of abandoned shops above, their dusty, deteriorating interiors, bakeries that hid the secrets below, above those, a floor of apartments loomed, their brick facades weathered by decades of rain and wind. He doubted the S.P.A. would allow outsiders to rent those spaces. Every tenant was likely entangled in this strange world. And how many floors plunged deeper underground? “Kellen, bring down Ash,” Alex called, his voice sharp but steady, cutting through the damp air. A woman’s voice, smooth and laced with amusement, drifted from the darkness below. “I can watch her.” Alex froze mid-step, his hand gripping the rusted railing. “Good evening, Jessica. Good to see you.” His tone was polite, but his jaw tightened. “Liar. Who is this?” The voice grew closer, teasing yet edged with something colder. “Ethan. Jessica is our resident ghost,” Alex said, his words clipped as he gestured toward the shadows. A figure materialized at the foot of the stairs, her form flickering like a candle flame caught in a draft. Jessica was slightly transparent, her dark skin and hair drained of vibrancy, as if painted in faded watercolor. Her eyes, though, gleamed with a sharp intelligence, locking onto Ethan with unnerving focus. She wore a blouse and jeans in a recent fashion. Ethan nodded, unconcerned. “Hi.” She grinned, her lips curling with a playful menace. “I like this one. He doesn’t startle easily.” “He’s in shock. You can see her?” Alex’s brow furrowed, his hazel eyes darting between them. “Yeah. She isn’t the first ghost I’ve seen.” Ethan’s voice was steadier than he felt. Even before ghosts were confirmed real, he’d seen them. “There were two at my grandfather’s place.” “Why wouldn’t he see me?” Jessica asked, drifting closer, her presence chilling the air around Ethan like a sudden frost. “He saw through Cassie’s illusion, and he can’t see my magic.” Alex turned to Ethan, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution. “You didn’t see my sun, did you?” “You told me to close my eyes. I could see light through my eyelids.” Ethan recalled the warm glow that had pulsed behind his lids, like sunlight filtering through a canopy of leaves. Jessica cocked her head, her translucent hair swaying as if underwater. “Interesting. I wonder if he can be turned.” Her voice was speculative, almost hungry. “Kellen and I are going to test that as soon as he gets down here. Once we know what he can do, we’ll decide what to tell the S.P.A.” Alex’s tone hardened, a warning glinting in his eyes. “You’d keep things from them?” Jessica’s form flickered, her eyes narrowing. “Yes, and, Jessica, if you tell them anything beyond what we agree, I will ward this whole block from you and burn that diary.” Alex’s voice was low, each word deliberate, like a blade drawn slowly from its sheath. Jessica’s eyes flared, twin sparks of ghostly light, and she shot upward, her form dissolving through the ceiling with a faint, resentful hum. Ethan caught the murmur of her voice upstairs, sharp and rapid, as if arguing with someone unseen. “Do not trust her,” Alex muttered, his breath visible in the cold air. “She’s an S.P.A. spy. That’s why they put us in a haunted building. The only thing that keeps her anchored is her sister’s diary.” “Ghosts can be tricky to deal with,” Ethan said, rubbing his arms against the lingering chill. “They forget what it’s like to be alive.” Kellen descended the stairs, his claws clicking softly, a hard-sided bag clamped gently in his teeth. His border collie’s fur gleamed under the flickering fluorescent lights, his intelligent eyes scanning the two before he trotted past them down a hallway lined with peeling paint and exposed pipes. Alex followed, and Ethan hurried to keep up, the weight of the unknown pressing against his chest. In a cluttered room that smelled of antiseptic and ozone, Kellen set the bag on a scratched metal table. He nosed it open and pulled out a tablet, its thick rubber cover marred with teeth marks from countless trips in his jaws. With practiced ease, he fitted a boot over his paw, the stylus tip glinting as he tapped the screen. Ash shouldn’t be left alone with Jessica long, Kellen typed, the robotic voice of the communication app filling the silence. The screen glowed faintly, displaying a grid of pre-programmed phrases alongside a keyboard. “I only need your help with the blood tests. Nick was acting strangely today. I want the blood gone before he gets back,” Alex said, his fingers drumming nervously on the table’s edge. Maybe seeing Charlotte got to him, Kellen suggested, his ears twitching as he typed. “I’ll check on her in the morning. I wish he’d said something.” Alex’s voice softened, tinged with frustration. We can never understand the way Nick thinks. Use the syringes in the bottom drawer, Kellen instructed, his stylus moving with precise flicks. Alex retrieved a syringe and a pair of gloves from a dented cabinet, the rubber snapping as he pulled them on. “Are you allergic to latex?” Ethan shook his head, his pulse quickening. “No.” “And you’re sure you don’t mind me doing this?” Alex’s eyes searched Ethan’s, concern flickering beneath his calm exterior. Ethan hesitated, his heart thudding. Did he mind? The question lingered, heavy as the air around them. But he’d always known he was different—sensing things others couldn’t, seeing what should’ve been invisible. He wanted answers, even if they came with a needle. He stuck out his arm, the skin prickling in the cool room. “Do it.” Alex swabbed Ethan’s arm with an alcohol wipe; the sharp scent stung Ethan’s nose. The needle’s pinch was brief, followed by a dull ache as Alex drew the blood, the syringe filling with a dark crimson that seemed too vivid against the sterile surroundings. He pressed a bandage over the puncture, the adhesive tugging slightly at Ethan’s skin. The samples are in the fridge, Kellen typed, his gaze steady on Alex. Alex frowned, a crease forming between his brows. “I know that much.” Ethan watched, his stomach twisting, as Alex followed Kellen’s instructions, mixing Ethan’s blood with samples from glass vials stored in a humming refrigerator. The vials clinked softly, each labeled with faded ink. “Are those all from vampires?” Ethan asked, his voice quieter than he intended. Alex shook his head, his gloved fingers deftly handling the slides. “No. Two are vampires. One is zombie. Four check you for various types of magic. And one is for werewolf.” “Werewolf? There are none left,” Ethan protested, his mind flashing to grainy news footage of snarling beasts and blood-soaked battlefields. “We don’t believe there are. But what if the S.P.A. missed one? There were blood samples taken from some of the werewolves after they were killed,” Alex explained, his voice clinical but his eyes distant. Werewolves hid themselves for centuries well enough that humans thought they were myths. It was bad luck they were exposed, Kellen added, his stylus pausing as he met Ethan’s gaze. Alex’s frown deepened. He peered at a test slide, then the sample vial, then back to the slide, his movements growing tense. Ethan’s chest tightened as Alex reran the test, the silence stretching like a taut wire. “What is it?” Ethan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Alex didn’t answer. He crossed to a cabinet, his shoes scuffing the linoleum, and retrieved another vial, its contents a murky amber. He added drops to the last two slides and prepared a third without the new reagent, his hands steady but his jaw clenched. “Alex, what is it?” Ethan pressed, fear creeping into his voice. Kellen leapt onto the table, his claws scraping the metal as he inspected the slides. He cocked his head, one ear raised, his dark eyes studying Ethan with an intensity that made Ethan’s skin prickle. The dog hopped down and returned to his tablet. Are you old enough to remember the werewolves? Kellen typed, the app’s voice flat, but the question heavy. Ethan nodded, his mouth dry. “Yeah. I was six when the war started.” Did you ever see one? Kellen asked. Ethan shook his head, memories of flickering TV screens surfacing—werewolves tearing through soldiers, their howls haunting his childhood nightmares. “Only on the news. Why?” “You were bitten. Your blood tests positive for the contagion,” Alex said, his voice low, as if the walls might overhear. “It can’t be. You messed it up. I’ve seen plenty of full moons. I’ve never turned,” Ethan insisted, his heart pounding as he gripped the edge of the table, the cold metal grounding him. “No, you wouldn’t,” Alex said, his tone softening. “You’re immune to it. You’re immune to all changes. There’s no magic in you whatsoever.” This doesn’t get reported, Kellen typed, his stylus stabbing the screen with urgency. “No, we won’t tell this to the S.P.A.,” Alex agreed, his eyes meeting Ethan’s with a silent promise. “We’ll test his magic and see how far that goes. We’ll tell them something about that.” “If I bit someone, would they become a werewolf?” Ethan asked the question tumbling out before he could stop it. Alex raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk breaking his tension. “Do you bite a lot of people?” Ethan shook his head, heat rising to his cheeks. “No. I’ve never bitten anyone, except maybe as a little kid.” “Let me check.” Alex drew a small sample of his own blood, the needle glinting under the harsh lights. He mixed it with the last of Ethan’s, his movements precise. “No. There’s no reaction.” Kellen propped his front paws on the table, straining to see. Can he keep others from turning? “I’m out of blood. I can’t tell. Ethan isn’t a lab rat. We aren’t going to treat him like one,” Alex said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. Kellen huffed, his breath fogging the tablet briefly. Sorry. “I’m kind of curious myself,” Ethan admitted, his fingers brushing the bandage on his arm. “Not tonight. I’ll think about more blood tests some other time. If the S.P.A. gets wind of this, they may…” Alex’s voice trailed off, his eyes darkening with unspoken fears. Ethan nodded, catching the weight of what Alex left unsaid. The S.P.A.’s ruthlessness was legendary, their hunters as merciless as the creatures they tracked. And rumors abounded as to what happened to the prisoners. “But for now, let’s check how you do against magic.” Alex’s tone shifted, brisk and purposeful. I’m going to check on Ash, Kellen typed, packing his tablet with a nudge of his nose. You don’t need me here for that. He trotted out, his tail swaying slightly. Alex nodded, disposing of the slides and syringe in a small incinerator that hummed to life with a burst of heat. The acrid smell of burning plastic filled the room. “With Nick here, it’s best to burn any blood. He’s not to drink from the team. Treat it like an addiction. Keep it away from him unless it’s from a blood bag. Let him have as much of that as he wants.” “Just get him to use a cup?” Ethan asked, half-joking to ease the tension. Alex chuckled, the sound warm but fleeting. “That would be nice. The S.P.A. wants to reuse the bags as much as possible.” “The S.P.A.? They run the blood banks?” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “No, but they give us blood for Nick. They don’t want their head vampire attacking people. I don’t know where they get it. I don’t ask.” Alex’s voice was flat, his eyes avoiding Ethan’s. “Let’s go to the training room for some tests.” Ethan trailed Alex through the labyrinthine corridors of the S.P.A. base, his eyes darting across the shadowed expanse. The walls, rough with exposed brick and patched plaster, seemed to pulse with secrets, their surfaces marred by decades of wear. Flickering fluorescent lights cast jagged pools of illumination, leaving corners shrouded in gloom. The air was heavy with the scent of damp stone and a faint, acrid trace of burnt chemicals, lingering from the incinerator below. “How big is this place?” Ethan asked, his voice echoing softly in the cavernous space. “Five floors. It runs the whole block.” Alex’s boots scuffed against the uneven concrete as he walked, his posture rigid but purposeful. “The S.P.A. bought it, but my name’s on the deed. That’s to control Nick and limit where he can go. It has to be someone who lives here.” His tone was matter-of-fact, but a flicker of unease crossed his hazel eyes, as if the weight of that responsibility pressed against him. Ethan’s brow furrowed, his fingers brushing the cool, gritty wall for balance. “There are a lot of precautions for him.” “Nick is a heartless, cold-blooded killer.” Alex’s voice dropped, each word sharp as a blade. He stopped abruptly, turning to face Ethan, his gaze piercing. “Don’t let how he takes care of Ash fool you. The S.P.A. is the only thing that keeps him from killing us all.” He paused, letting the warning settle like dust in the still air. “I’m not going to lie. This is a dangerous group. You need to be careful. If you agree to help us, you’ll need to be on your guard all the time.” Ethan swallowed, the weight of Alex’s words sinking into his chest like a stone. He nodded, his throat tight, unsure if he was ready for the shadowed world he was stepping into. The training room sprawled before them, a cavernous space that smelled of sweat, rubber, and faintly of ozone, as if magic had scorched the air. Sparring mats, worn and patched, lined one side, flanked by racks of weights and punching bags swaying gently in the draft. Across the room, thick dividers—some bulletproof plexiglass, others solid brick—formed a makeshift arena, their surfaces scarred with burns and scratches from countless experiments. Dim overhead lights buzzed, casting stark shadows that danced across the floor. Alex led Ethan to the divided area, his movements brisk, as if eager to unravel the mystery of Ethan’s abilities. “You didn’t see my shield. Will it stop you? Try to touch me,” Alex instructed, planting his feet firmly on the mat, his hands flexing at his sides. Ethan reached out, his fingers tentative. At first, an invisible barrier pressed against his palm, like pushing through thick, warm water. Then, as if a curtain parted, the resistance vanished, and his hand brushed Alex’s sleeve, the fabric rough under his fingertips. Ethan blinked, surprised by the ease of it. Alex’s eyes narrowed, a spark of curiosity igniting. He murmured an incantation, his breath visible in a faint puff of frost. Ethan scanned the room, expecting a shimmer or glow, but saw nothing. “What’s that supposed to do?” he asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “You don’t feel that?” Alex pressed, his brow creasing as he hugged his arms against a chill Ethan couldn’t sense. “Feel what?” “The cold?” Ethan shook his head, glancing at Alex’s breath, which clouded in the air like smoke. His own breath remained invisible, his skin untouched by any chill. “No.” “Okay, what about now?” Alex asked, his fingers tracing a new pattern in the air, his voice steady but laced with anticipation. “Feel something or see it?” Ethan shifted, the mat creaking under his weight. The barrage of tests was disorienting, each spell slipping past him like a language he couldn’t speak. “See,” Alex clarified, his eyes locked on Ethan’s. Ethan turned, scanning the room. The lights still buzzed, the dividers stood unchanged, and the shadows remained still. “Nothing. What is it?” “Darkness. I can’t see a thing.” Alex’s voice wavered, his pupils dilated as he squinted into the supposed void. Ethan shrugged, the room as clear as ever. “I have no problems seeing. The light didn’t change.” The normalcy of it unsettled him—how could he see what Alex couldn’t? Alex hesitated, his fingers twitching as if resisting the urge to cast again. “Okay, one last spell, if you’ll consent.” His tone softened, but a cautious edge lingered. Ethan’s stomach tightened. Alex hadn’t asked for permission before. “What is it?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes narrowing as he studied Alex’s guarded expression. “A binding spell. I’ll only keep you restrained for a moment,” Alex assured him, though his hands remained still, waiting. “Will it even work?” Ethan’s pulse quickened, doubt gnawing at him. Alex shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I don’t think so. I won’t keep you held long if it does.” Ethan’s eyes narrowed further, Alex’s earlier warning echoing in his mind. “You just told me you were dangerous. I don’t know you.” The words hung between them, heavy with truth. “No, you don’t,” Alex agreed, his voice calm but unflinching. “You don’t have to agree to this.” “But I couldn’t stop you,” Ethan pointed out, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’d have to be quick, but you could interrupt the spell as I cast it.” Alex’s gaze was steady, offering a challenge as much as reassurance. Ethan sighed, the phrase his mother used to murmur—in for a penny, in for a pound—ringing in his ears. He’d come this far, teetering on the edge of a world he barely understood. “Just do it,” he said, bracing himself. Alex nodded, his fingers weaving an intricate pattern, a soft hum of energy crackling in the air. Ethan tilted his head, waiting for a sensation—ropes, chains, anything. Nothing came. “Are you done?” he asked, shifting his weight to test his freedom. “You don’t feel anything?” Alex’s voice was tinged with awe. “Nope.” Ethan stepped forward, his arms swinging freely, the mat squeaking underfoot. “Not a thing.” “Alexander, what do you think you are doing to this man?” A deep, commanding voice boomed from the doorway, sharp enough to slice through the hum of the lights. Alex flinched, his face paling as he spun toward the sound. “Winters, sir, I was just testing him. He saw through the bracelet.” He tugged the cuffs of his shirt sleeves down. Ethan turned, his eyes landing on a man in a pristine charcoal suit, his silver hair slicked back, his presence radiating authority. The man’s polished shoes clicked against the concrete as he stepped forward, his piercing eyes fixed on Alex. “And you didn’t tell us?” he pressed, his voice cold as frost. “I was testing him to know how far it went,” Alex stammered, his hands rising defensively. “Isn’t that our job?” The man—Winters, presumably—advanced, his shadow stretching long across the floor. Ethan squinted, something off about the man’s movements, like a film played at the wrong speed. A stifled giggle, high and mischievous, broke the tension. Alex froze. “What?” “He’s not real,” Ethan said, his voice steady as he pointed at Winters. The man’s edges seemed to shimmer, his form too smooth, like a painting come to life. “That’s a dream.” Alex’s jaw tightened. “Ashling!” Ash skipped into the room, her bare feet slapping the concrete, her dark hair bouncing as she giggled. Her oversized sweater dwarfed her petite frame, the sleeves dangling past her knuckles. “You were fooled. Ethan wasn’t. He can see dreams for what they are.” She grinned at Ethan, her eyes sparkling with delight. “I didn’t want him to know what I was doing, so he wouldn’t be watching for it.” “But the head of the S.P.A.?” Alex’s voice was a mix of exasperation and amusement, his hands dropping to his hips. “Making you worry seemed like a good way to distract him and add a little stress.” Ash turned to Ethan, her head tilting. “How soon could you see he was a dream?” “About three steps into the room,” Ethan said, recalling the moment Winters crossed into the light. “Once he got into decent light, I could see something was off. I said something as soon as I was sure it was a dream, not a drawing.” “Have you ever seen a drawing before?” Ash asked, her curiosity piqued as she tucked a curl behind her ear. Ethan nodded, memories of childhood flickering to life—crude, crayon-like figures that moved jerkily, conjured by a neighbor kid with a knack for magic. “Plenty. Anyone should be able to tell that most are drawings. They look like kids did them. The quality ones are harder, but I never understood why some people were fooled.” Kellen bounded down the stairs, his claws clicking frantically, a sharp bark echoing through the room as he fixed his gaze on Ash, his ears pinned back. “She’s fine,” Alex said, waving a hand. “Is something manifesting upstairs?” “That’s another dream,” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing as Kellen’s form wavered, his fur too glossy, his movements too fluid. The dog vanished in a shimmer, like mist burned away by sunlight. “I wanted to see how he’d do with something I’m more familiar with and could get exact,” Ash explained, her cheeks flushing as she scuffed her foot against the floor. “I could still see the difference. He just didn’t look real.” Ethan struggled to articulate the subtle wrongness—the way the dream-Kellen’s eyes lacked depth, his shadow too sharp against the concrete. “The uncanny valley,” Alex said, nodding as if slotting a puzzle piece into place. “That’s what you’re sensing.” “I’ll have to work on that,” Ash decided, her brow furrowing with determination. A real bark, sharp and urgent, rang from the stairwell. “That’s not me,” Ash insisted, her voice rising as she pointed upward. “It sounds real,” Ethan agreed, his pulse quickening as he caught the edge of panic in Kellen’s bark. “Let’s see what he wants before he tries to text me and realizes my phone is still up there,” Alex muttered. “And, Ash, no more doing Winters.” They ascended one floor, the stairwell’s cold metal railing biting into Ethan’s palm. In the center of the rec room stood several small, barefoot figures, their hobbit-like forms clad in homespun vests and trousers, their eyes too large and glassy. “Those are dreams,” Ethan said, his voice low as he studied their unnatural stillness, their skin unnervingly smooth, like polished clay. “Hobbits. Nick was reading me the book before he went to bed this morning,” Ash explained, her voice tinged with guilt as she hugged her arms around herself. “Get rid of them before Gollum shows up,” Alex insisted, his tone sharp as he scanned the corridor for more threats. “I’m trying.” Ash squinted, her fingers twitching. Two hobbits flickered and vanished, their forms dissolving like smoke. Then another appeared, its curly hair glinting under the dim light. “Picture them disappearing,” Ethan suggested, stepping closer to Ash. He felt foolish stating the obvious, but Alex’s encouraging nod spurred him on. “Focus on one. Watch it fade away like Jessica does. Make him transparent.” Ash’s eyes narrowed, and one hobbit grew translucent, its edges blurring until it was gone. “Now the next. Good,” Ethan urged, his voice steady. “Keep going.” The last two began to fade but stalled, their forms half-solid, like ghosts caught between worlds. “No, one at a time. Don’t rush. Pick one. Make him fade first. Do Frodo. Save Sam for last.” He pointed at the figure with darker curls, his name a guess to give Ash a focal point. Ash’s face tightened with concentration, her breath hitching. The chosen hobbit shimmered, its form dissolving into wisps of light until it vanished. She exhaled, turning to the final figure. It faded slowly, its outline lingering like a chalk drawing erased by rain. Finally, the room was empty, the air lighter, as if a pressure had lifted. Ash sighed, her shoulders slumping with relief. Alex nodded, a rare warmth in his eyes. “Very good, both of you. Ethan, I want you to join us. You can do naturally what the rest of us can only hope to do with magic.” He clapped Ethan’s shoulder, the gesture firm but fleeting. “Come back tomorrow, and we’ll work out what we’ll tell the S.P.A.” “I have to work tomorrow,” Ethan reminded him, the mundane reality of his job jarring against the night’s revelations. His mind still reeled—immune to magic, a carrier of a werewolf contagion, a seer of dreams. What was he stepping into? Alex frowned, his fingers tapping his thigh as he considered. “After work, then.” He fished a set of car keys from his pocket, the metal glinting dully under the lights. “I’ll pick it up when Cassie’s awake enough to drive. If we’re not there by the time you need to leave, leave the keys in it.” Ethan took the keys, their weight grounding him as the night’s events swirled in his mind. He nodded, his throat tight with a mix of apprehension and resolve. The S.P.A. base loomed around him, its shadows whispering of dangers and secrets yet to be uncovered. As he followed Alex and Ash back toward the stairwell, Kellen padding softly behind, Ethan felt the pull of this strange, perilous world—a world where he might finally belong, if he could survive it.