The screen is black with the only other sense a brief rustling sound. When a loud thud and a cut-off “Wha-” are heard.

What sounds like a car engine and driving emanates from the laptop, rustling, dragging, and multiple doors closing.

Before long, the scenery changes as the camera is moved from what sounds like Nathan’s backpack to what looks like a table.

The action provides a look at a tall man wearing black, his face obscured by a face mask and a baseball cap, while his hair and appendages are grey-furred.

Oakley seems to shift around at the observation.

The crumpled form of Nathan is sprawled out on the concrete floor, his tail cowering between his legs, slightly out of frame.

The Red spot above his temple is growing quickly as he groans. The man adjusts the camera again, then walks over to the boy, his steps slow and planned.

The echoes of his movement add to the eerie quiet. The silence is short before a loud crack echoes through it.

The figure swings his right leg up as if he had extensive practice. Slamming his heel down on what sounds like a rib is visceral.

“Aaauggh!” A strangled noise is forced out of Nathan as it digs into his chest. Recoiling sluggishly, he rolls into a ball.

“Why... Please.” Pleas spill from his mouth as he shivers, crumpled near the bottom of the screen. His slow inching away a pathetic attempt to wriggle away from the figure.

Heavy boots rain on his back, as wheezed out whimpers fly from his mouth. The rain stops, and the black figure towering over him stills for a second.

Hideous laughter and a deep voice dripping in malice lean down to grab Nathan by his hair. The figure languishes in length about his vexations against wolf-dogs. His prejudices and annoyances with them.

Of course, all of them have nothing to do with Nathan or any wolf-dog actually doing anything against the black figure. Everything he complains about are just slight annoyances the man has taken out at what he felt was inferior.

As Nathan’s face comes into frame, they notice his face is bruised, red with abrasions.

The grip the figure has on Nathan’s hair is strong as he lifts his arm and effectively throws him across the room.

His form tumbling briefly, the wind rushing out of it as he impacts on the wall and slides down.

Slumped, Nathan only gurgles, his eyes crossing as he spits blood out on the floor.

A trail of blood follows where his head impacted the wall, his fingers unscrewed from their hold on the floor, and his head bumped the floor as he stops moving.

The man’s back is still in frame as he removes his hat and rakes his hands over his hair in an exasperated motion, uncaring. He murmurs about it ending too soon before he puts his baseball cap back on and turns around.

The screen cuts back to black, the same white pause icon appearing on the screen.

Heaving and the sound of bated breath were evident between them.

Noah had pulled herself from their huddle to scurry to a nearby bush. With Oakley following after her to pat her back while she hurled. His lips tight, and his eyebrows screwed together, His face an indicator of every bit of how they all felt.

Will crosses his legs, holding his ankles firmly as his stomach churns in disgust. He shouldn’t have touched the bear. What kind of feeling leads you to steal a bear from the teacher's office, only to find out it’s a murder file?

William stoked his own fire as he gripped his ankle. His ears flattened back to show agitation.

“Hey, we all wanted to know what was on it.” Eveline put her hand on his shoulder, most likely noticing his eyes staring blankly at his legs. His grip loosens as he sees her expression, a screwed up and pale, as she tries to sooth him.

Oakley and Noah wandered back into the pit, plopping down close to them. “We all had that feeling, so don’t go thinking it was your fault.” Noah rested her head on her knees as she gave Will a glare that would be playful in any other situation.

Poking his side with her index finger, as her other hand hugged her legs. “We told you before we watched that… fucking video, that we all wanted to know what was going on,” Oakley added.

“Was that a curse word?” Will whispered, cracking a crooked smile and trying to deflect some of the tension.

“I can’t believe you…” Oakley looked at Will like he was worried for his future in a not funny way.

“We wouldn’t have been able to stop watching anyway, so let’s not worry about whose fault it is, okay?” Eveline spoke up again, motioning to the space bar that had jammed when she tried to stop the video midway.

“Okay,” he accepted. Thoroughly traumatized and mind’s running wild, they scoot a little closer to each other, with the space around Will and Noah being encroached upon more than the others.

If any of them wanted to explain why, which they didn’t, none did.

Why was the teddy bear in the teacher’s office? Who put it there? Who was in that video?

All the questions Will and his friends would love to know. But without any answer’s they’re left to continue going to class every day, unsettled by every little thing.

Every day gets worse as they don’t know who’s just doing their job and who’s hiding something despicable. Who can they trust, and how could they even ask about something like that?

‘Hey, I saw this weird recording in the bear I found in your office, do you know anything about it?’ That would immediately lead to something worse.

The only solution they found was to go on being normal in class and in front of teachers. Even though they all undeniably don‘t feel normal anymore.

With Eve and Oakley being in the student council, he’s a bit worried.

A couple of weeks after the incident, he and Eve are lounging on the couch after school. Will’s head is lying on the side of the couch’s hand rest, with his calves draped over her shins. The couch was so comfortable to him that his eyes had closed naturally.

“Hey…” Eve starts. He opens his eyes slightly, adjusting his posture to sit with his legs crossed.

“What's wrong?” Will gently solicited her to continue.

“I, I noticed something… going on, with Oakley.” She whispered, fidgeting with her hands, her mouth still open a little. He kept quiet to give her space to speak.

“He’s been, as far as I know, more exhausted recently,” She shifted on the couch for a second, pulling her knees up to her chest.

“And it could just be what happened… but with his situation, I’m worried.” She folded her hands together to fidget with them again, looking up at him.

“We can’t do much about it unless he tells us himself, so let’s hope he trusts us as his friends and let’s us know on his own,” William responds, wanting to be there but not force him to say anything. Eveline nods in agreement, a similar sentiment on her face.

The conversation drifted in the silence before circling back to comfortable lounging slowly after.

Water licks his face as William wipes his face with it. It leaves a soothing feeling behind as it drips from him.

“Huu,” he sighs, shaking his hands out in the air, then running them through a white hand towel. The cloth hung up on a dowel to the left of the mirror.

He stares at the reflective space for a moment, taking note of how tired he looks, before he pats his legs and goes to open the door.

His hand jerks the handle to the right, instinctively pushing outward. Only for the door to resist the motion, clacking in its spot, creaking, but not moving.

He tries again.

Gripping the handle tighter and pushing outward again.

But it won’t open. The door won’t open.

He twist and turns the knob, Jostling it where it’s in the door. Pushing again while he twist the knob to the left this time.

The door falls open by itself, the momentum of pushing it leaving it more than ajar.

The door is open, but Will can’t let the breath that’s stuck in his chest go. He can feel sweat starting to form on his back, his body heat rising at chills go through him.

He feels relieved, but he can’t help but feel worked up. Why does this still follow him?

He’s not there anymore, so why is he still like this? Will feels his emotions welling up, his stomach churning in motions.

“Hey, I saw the door knob, what happened?” Eve chimes in from somewhere in the kitchen.

He wants to respond, but his mouth is locking up, saliva starting to collect on his bottom lip. All he can think of is how Dark it was, how lonely he was by himself.

Why did he have to be alone? Did he deserve it?

Will makes a sort of choked sound as he brings the back of one hand up to his mouth to wipe away a bit of saliva that spills out.

He can see her head from around the corner, and her face, originally passive, becomes worried as she peeks in.

Eve walks in quickly, and if he could see any better right now, he would think she’s assessing his state of being.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She tries to direct his attention, from dissociating at the dizzying space in front of him, to looking at her.

Her hands were on either side of his face, his form having dropped to the floor of the bathroom moments before she entered.

Will’s legs shake as they try to squeeze closer to his chest, for how strong he is, his legs seem to have their own mind.

Shaking and almost aching, they tense to stay firmly planted on the floor. Will trembles slightly as his hand falls from his mouth.

“Hmmn,” he hums sort of affirmatively out of his mouth that feels like it’s full of marbles.

They choke him as he stumbles out sounds despite the feeling of throwing up lurking in his mouth.

He can feel a sort of comfort trying to overtake the panic. Can he have this? Is he allowed to keep this feeling?

“Breathe with me.” She puts one of her hands on his back, slowly moving it up and down. The soothing motion granted him relief against the force restricting his lungs.

The same force that is somehow unable to limit his tear ducts, as small and burning tears roll down his face.

Somehow, they force their way through as he wills himself to calm down.

Will settles his vision on Eve’s presence, analyzing her clothing to calm himself down. Her Dark blue sweater and grey turtleneck are fuzzy and soft as he stares at their pattern. The black of her hair is soft and shiny, smelling of Apple and Honey.

Her clothes smelled clean like fresh laundry. Her black and loose-fit leggings slightly pool on the floor, her legs bracketing his hunched form.

Despite her composed face usually being stoic or left unexpressive, in this moment, it leans more gentle and caring.

William is grateful, as she has no pity, only a hint of worry, and an enveloping sort of comforting warmth on her face.

As he can finally breathe, he takes in a couple of deep breaths.

“Thank you.” He tells her quietly, smiling at her with his eyes closed, his eyebrows still knit together with his canines showing. He folds his arms over the top of his legs and sets his head atop them, tensing at the growing silence.

“Can I hug you?” he asks, His ears perking up slightly as his Olive green eyes stare at her nervously.

“You don’t have to ask, with everything we’ve been through.” Eveline, having taken her hands off his face(to his unconscious mire), wraps them around his shoulders, and pulls him closer to her with a hidden strength.

William isn’t short, standing at 6’2, but neither is Eve at 5’8. It’s surprising how well Will could forget their size and latch onto her as he’s pulled. His knees separate as he moves his legs to straddle her lap.

Her own legs crossed under him, Will’s own appendages doing the same as he sets his head on her shoulder. His tail was slowly wagging from side to side.

Eventually, they would have to move, but for now, he was content to unabashedly accept her comforting presence.