Vincent opened his groggy eyes, lifting a head that felt as heavy as the world. As he gathered himself, he noticed he was in an office, sitting in a leather chair. Was what happened all just a bad dream? He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, groaning.

“Finally awake, are we?” came the voice of a man sitting at a desk across from Vincent. The man, whom was leaning against steepled hands, wore a blue designer suit and had combed back gray hair and a mustache.

“Wh-where am I?” Vincent said, straightening himself and blinking away the deliriousness as if he had woken from a stupor. That’s when he remembered. “I was in the classroom, and” –

His heartrate picked up, his hands gripping the leather arms as he felt his body tense.

His eyes went wide, his vision darting around the room, suddenly awake and aware. “There was a-a monster, and-and-and,” was all he could get out. He instinctively curled up in the leather chair, hugging himself and shivering with fright, looking around for that – that thing.

“Everything is fine, Vincent,” the man said, lifting a palm to calm him, which – oddly – did.

The man let Vincent sit for a moment, giving him time to realize that he was not in danger. At least not in here. Once calmed, he sat in a normal fashion, lowering feet to ground, hands relaxed against leather arms.

“First off,” the man said in an even tone. “You are not crazy, so there is no need to think so.”

“Then,” Vincent said, stumbling over his words. “W-what was that thing?”

“A werewolf,” the man said with a tiny smile as if it was as easy as saying ‘pass the butter.’

“I – I,” was all Vincent could say before the man cut in.

“Just take a moment, son,” he said in a relaxed fashion, leaning back as he did. “And relax.”

As these words were spoken, Vincent felt as if there was a warm blanket covering his cold and frightened form. It settled him, slightly. And as the seconds passed, he felt more at ease.

“The truth is,” the man continued. “You are not crazy, but you did see a werewolf.”

Vincent fell back against the leather with wide eyes. While he still felt a sense of unease, it was the truth, so there was nothing to be done about it. Yet, because of this odd warm feeling, which made him feel more and more at ease, more and more relaxed, he was able to focus his mind. “How long was I out?”

“About ten minutes,” the man said, holding his eyes on Vincent as if studying him. “I’m afraid you were shown something that put your body into a state of shock. It’s never an easy thing, to have a truth revealed that was once thought as something unreal, unimaginable.” The man glanced out a large window that looked out over one of the fields in the back of the school as if pondering something long in the past.

As Vincent found his bearings, he realized they were on the first floor. The room had a comfortable feel to it, and he could smell the leather chair he sat on – a mixture of smoky and slight sweetness. There were three leather chairs in total and a bookshelf off to the side filed with various hardcovered books that looked ancient and hand-made and much too big to read with even two hands. On the top of the man’s desk was a closed laptop, tablet, and a silver pen sitting on a pad of paper. Everything was simple, yet elegant.

Beyond the smell of the leather, he also noticed a soft musky aroma with a hint of mint that touched his nose. The scent reminded him of what it felt like as a child to dive into a pile of leaves during autumn. The smell of smokey fires and burning candle wax and all the scents of autumn that he enjoyed during the time of the spooky and spectacular festivities.

To top it off, there was that pleasant feeling that bathed over him, as if he was at home in his warm bed, snuggled up in the covers. It was a nice feeling, but strange how it suddenly put him at ease, as if soothing him in the face of this harsh and biting reality.

Even with the warmth, as he thought of that beast – of his teacher transforming into that… that werewolf – it made his eyes wet and his body shiver, and all sense of ease crumbled in the face of that truth. He wiped the tears away in a frustrated movement, not sure what to think or feel, chuckling pathetically. “W-what’s happening to me?”

“I think you know exactly what is happening to you, Vincent,” the man said, leaning forward. “I think you’ve always known in some way. It’s just never really been revealed to you in such a way that it was today.

“Perhaps it was harsh,” the man said, looking thoughtful. “But nevertheless necessary, as it had to be done.”

“How do you know my name?” Vincent asked, meeting eyes with the man.

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“I know all the names of students at Crescent Academy,” he said, standing and moving around the desk, leveling his perceptive blue eyes on Vincent. “I wouldn’t be a very good headmaster if I didn’t, now, would I?” A flicker of a smile crossed his face. “Now that you are calmed down and present, let’s discuss your situation, shall we?”

Vincent gulped and nodded.

“Oh, and forgive the manners of an old man, will you,” he said, chuckling to himself as he straightened his suit and extended his hand to shake Vincent’s. “My name is Lucian Illustrious. And just like you,” he said, shaking Vincent’s hand with a firm grip,” I’m special as well. I’m a magician, you see.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Vincent said, shocked. “It’s hard to believe. But…” He thought back on Mr. B’s transformation and shuddered. “It’s crazy.”

Lucian rubbed his chin, watching the boy. “Indeed.”

“I mean,” Vincent said, continuing his thoughts. “It makes a lot of things in my past – things that happened to me, things I’ve done, thoughts I’ve had, actions I’ve taken that were confusing or weird – make total sense.” He sank into the chair, feeling a cold chill move over him. “It’s just… insane.” He chuckled again, nervously.

“Perhaps it is,” Lucian said, folding his arms, thinking through his words before speaking. “But, as with all new things, or things that seem surreal, strange, or unthinkable, with time you will learn to accept it.” He let that linger for a moment. “But if I’m right about you, I think you will do quite well as werewolf.” He winked.

Vincent flinched as he said the word werewolf. It wasn’t a joke. It was real. All of it was real. He gulped, taking a minute to find his voice again as he cleared his throat. “So, what is it that I’m supposed to do now?”

“That is up to you, Vincent,” he said, watching him. “Whether you believe it or not, your future, and the subsequent consequences of your actions, will be up to you. No one can force you to be here, but…” His eyes narrowed, his voice low and intent. “The changes will dramatically increase from here on out, and you can either choose to stay and face them with support of your peers and teachers, or become lost to the beast that will ultimately be released upon you.”

Vincent rubbed the arms of the chair, shifting uncomfortably as he felt the eyes and words of Lucian Illustrious bore down on him.

What else could he do but choose to return? “Okay,” he said, sitting up straighter. He cleared his throat again, grasping what little confidence he had. “I want to return to class.”

Lucian nodded. “Very well.” He let the silence linger for a moment. “Tell me, Vincent. Have you had the dreams yet?”

“Dreams, sir?” Vincent asked, blinking.

Lucian nodded. “Yes. When a young werewolf’s time of change comes, he experiences recurring dreams of a werewolf shape that stalks him in his dream.”

Vincent perked up at this. “How did you know?”

“Let’s just say I’m perceptive about some things.” Lucian held his eyes on Vincent. “That dream, though, is an indication of your awakening. Of what you will become, of what you are. It’s a sign of your transition now that you’re a teenager and werewolf of age.”

“So,” Vincent asked, shifting in his chair. “What do I do about it?”

“What you have already chosen to do. Return to your classes, listen to your teachers, especially David Brown, as he will teach you what you need to know about werewolves.”

Vincent nodded. “It’s that simple, huh?”

“Yes, it is,” Lucian said. “It won’t be easy, though, as things worthwhile rarely are.”

“Okay,” Vincent said as he sat up and let out a breath. “I’ll do what you say.”

Lucian lifted a finger and gave a sly smile. “No, Vincent, you will do as you choose. And I think the choice you have made will turn out to be beneficial for you.”

Vincent looked up at the headmaster and felt as if things would be okay. Every time Vincent held this man’s eyes for longer than a moment, he felt something weird, as if he knew the man, could open to him, tell him things, and be understood. It was strange, like the warm feeling that had come over him earlier, but comforting.

Lucian stood and straightened his suit, motioning to the door. “Now, let’s get you back to class, shall we?”

Vincent moved to the door, hand resting on the handle. “Why didn’t my parents tell me about this sooner?”

Lucian let the thought linger for a moment as if wanting to be careful with his words. “I’m sure they had their reasons, and the choices they made were their own, even if the consequences ultimately affected you. At this point it doesn’t matter, though, as the past is passed. That is not to say I am belittling your feelings or thoughts on the matter, just stating a simple fact that it is most pertinent to focus on the here and now, the present, and your potential future. That is what really matters, the choices you make from here on out. Will you fold and give up, or will you rise to the challenge and do what I believe you capable of?

“Which is?” Vincent asked, holding his eyes on the man.

“Conquering your essence,” he said with a fire in his eyes.

“My essence?” Vincent asked, blinking, not sure what to think of that.

“It’s a phrase we use in the supernatural world to mean your soul, your being.” Lucian rubbed his mustache. “And… as for why they didn’t tell you, perhaps you should ask them yourself and see what they say.”

Vincent nodded.

“You have everything you need at your disposal here at Crescent Academy,” Lucian said, an assured look on his face. “All you have to do is ask yourself if you’re willing to take on the challenge. You can either accept your fate or run from it. Either way, it is your decision to make, and thus you will have to face it in one shape or form, because no matter what you choose, it is the truth. But remember this one thing: I, and all of the other teachers and staff, have your best interest in mind, even if it doesn’t come off that way. My door is always open for you, Vincent, day or night. All you have to do is knock.” He gave a little wink at that.

Day or night? That was weird. Vincent wondered what would happen if he was actually able to get into the school and knock on the headmaster’s door in the middle of the night? Wasn’t the school locked at night? Then again, Lucian Illustrious didn’t clarify to knock on his door, just to knock, and since possibilities of the supernatural had been opened today, perhaps this concept was also something beyond the typical and needed to be approached with an open mind.

Whatever the case, this Lucian Illustrious was an interesting man.

As Lucian watched the door close behind the boy, a knowing smile crossed his face as he had a feeling about this boy and the things he would accomplish in his first year at Crescent Academy.

. . .