March break came and went leaving a looming feeling hovering around Sam. Everything was relaxed and relatively normal. Sam visited his mom for a few days, Roman went on an expensive trip, Fletcher spent the time training for swim and Ellis probably spent his time polishing shoes or something equally as pretentious. It was perfectly predictable. Sam couldn’t help but think it was the calm before the storm.

Under a budding old oak tree, the boys regrouped. None of them were keen to chat. Roman was slouched over still fully dressed in his football gear while he dug into a slushie from the cafeteria while Ellis watched him as if the drink was poison. Keeping away, Fletcher had leaned himself against a tree. He was wearing dark tinted sunglasses that hid any expression he had. Sam sketched the odd poses in his notebook as he waited for someone to finally speak.

“How was skiing?” Ellis offered a topic of conversation but it felt flat and artificial. Roman didn’t even bother to reply, rather he shrugged.

Sam assumed that Ellis would have internalized his affection for Fletcher for his entire life but he was wrong. He wished so badly that he would have been right. It was impossible to ignore the new awkwardness forming between them. Fletcher was so out of character since that day. He’d become blunt and avoidant though Sam somehow doubted the kiss being the reason for it.

“So, we have two weeks to get a heart?” Ellis tried for conversation again.

“Pretty much. Fletcher’s mom works at the hospital, maybe we can nick one from the morgue?” Sam replied half joking but Fletcher didn’t respond, not even a twitch of the lip.

“That is extremely risky and dare I say immoral.” Ellis started to pick at the grass.

“More immoral than what we’ve already done?” Roman asked.

“I’ll handle it.” Fletcher's voice came out a little raspy.

“Ha. I wasn’t serious.” Sam wrung his hands together. “Don’t go stealing body parts.”

“I won't. I’ll handle it though.” Fletcher dusted his legs off. “I need to grab something. You coming Holloway?”

“I’ll come.” Roman offered.

“No.” Fletcher snapped back.

Ellis shook his head, looking confused by the offer. Crossing his arms, Fletcher huffed and walked off towards the side entrance to the gym. Looking for sympathy, Ellis started to do his silent communication with Roman. Infuriating but Sam chose to ignore it.

“Went through those books Alden gave us. I think I can talk to animals if I work at it.” Sam mentioned as he tried to break up the silent conversation.

“Anything about visions?” Ellis inquired.

“Didn’t care to read about that.”

“Is it weird that I don’t have powers?” Roman chewed his lip like the question had been weighing on him.

“About as weird as Davis ignoring me while trying to kill you guys-” Ellis paused squinting in the distance. Sam found both Ellis and Roman’s circumstances to be unusual but he’d figure it out given more time. “Bitch at 3 o’clock.”

Roman looked to his left, the complete opposite direction of where Ellis was referring to. With a quick smack, he drew Roman’s attention to a very perky Beck walking directly towards them. Why she was still at the school after 4:00 was a mystery but Sam didn’t care for the answer. Once she reached them, she stood too close to Roman who stared up at her with a deadpan expression.

“Have you guys seen Fletcher?” She asked, playing with the hem of her skirt.

“I don’t know, he’s your boyfriend.” Sam snipped.

“And you’re his friend who he ditches me to hang out with so excuse me for thinking you might actually know where he is.”

“Oh, he ditches you? Just like how you ditched him to fu-”

“He’s coming.” Ellis interrupted causally pointing.

As Fletcher got closer, Sam noticed a large key ring in his hand with well over a hundred keys on it. His walk was different than the normal, stiff yet confident. The moment he was within arm's reach, Beck pulled him into one of her trademark overly affectionate hugs but Fletcher pushed her away. He dropped the keys into Ellis's lap and motioned for them to follow.

“Babe...” Beck whined. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch me.” Fletcher's voice lacked emotion while Beck looked like she touched an electric fence.

“Don’t speak to me like that.”

“I’m busy, can you go?”

“You ignore me all of March break. You avoid me during class. You won’t even text me!” Beck snapped. For a second, Fletcher looked like he didn’t know what she was saying before he replied,

“Okay, and what do you want me to do about it?”

“Value me? Is it outrageous that I want to spend time with my boyfriend?” She looked scorned

“I can solve that. We’re done.” Fletcher started walking away.

“What?

“You said you want to spend time with your boyfriend. I don’t want to see you. Easy solution, I’m not your boyfriend anymore.”

Tension built in Sam’s chest. They all wanted Fletcher to break things off with her but seeing it was like watching a train wreck. They couldn't look away. Fletcher’s sudden growth of a back bone surprised Sam but not nearly as much as the way he pulled away from Beck as if she was gum beneath his shoe. Teary eyed, Beck started to blubber, desperate to speak but no coherent words came out. In response, Fletcher looked like he was trying to remember something before he smiled in a way Sam had never seen before. He was baring his teeth.

“You want to argue the point with me?” Fletcher’s voice remained even.

“I love you. It’s not my fault, I just had-”

“Make your stupid excuses. It’s no one else's fault for your choices. You want to be the victim, go ahead. I don’t care.” Fletch paused to let her get a few sobs out. “If that’s all you have to say, you can go- Actually, I’ll do you one better.”

Fletcher started walking again with no hesitation. Awkwardly, the other boys followed suit. Sam shot Beck a half apologetic look, feeling bad only because she was genuinely crying although her actions made it hard to be sympathetic. They crossed the main lawn toward the dorms. Although Fletcher hadn’t stated his intention, Sam guessed they’d be returning to the Wildes house. Something about that building was always reeling them back. About halfway to the dorm, Ellis plucked up the courage to ask,

“What was that about?” Secretly, Sam assumed Ellis only asked as a fleeting hope that he might actually have a shot with Fletcher.

“Do you want the heart or not?” Fletcher asked.

“Are you implying we are going to kill Beck? Because that isn’t going to solve the murderer issue we have.”

“Are you always this dense?” Fletcher stopped and looked at him point blank, like he was expecting a genuine answer.

The Wildes house in the spring looked more welcoming. Wild flowers creeping up around the sides of the brick. It was warmer than it had been for a few weeks. Brown muddied grass slowly turning back to a luscious green. The artist in Sam wanted to snapshot the moment for a painting but Fletcher’s new found intensity meant it was a bad idea. At least while they were doing whatever his plan was. Sam was unsure of what the dorm had to do with the heart but he assumed Fletcher had it figured out.

“I don’t know which key goes to the door.” Ellis said, rattling the keys to make his point. “We also shouldn’t be sneaking into private property.”

“Figure out what key.” Fletcher replied. “Davenport, still have that translation from the journal?”

“Not on me. Think it’s in my locker.” Roman replied.

“Go get it while Holloway figures out the door.” Fletcher rolled his eyes.

Roman nodded and jogged off, probably relieved to be away from all the aggression Fletcher was letting out. Cruelty, snappiness and all-around rudeness were not traits native to Fletcher but he seemed to exhibit them in full force. Sam was curious about the plan but didn’t dare ask in fear of a tongue lashing from him.

Sam didn’t like Fletcher like this.

Ellis got through roughly fifteen keys before Roman came back, translation in hand. Ellis called out sixteen as he flipped carefully to the next key. Slowly he inserted it and wiggled the door handle. Still locked. Sam guessed his speed was more likely due to the fact he didn’t want to be doing it at all. Fletcher snatched the translation from Roman and read it over a few times before shoving it in his pocket. Quickly Fletcher took off his blazer and wrapped it around his hand. With a sharp swing, he punched through the window beside the door.

“What the hell?” Ellis squealed and dropped the keys.

Fletcher didn’t respond and instead stared them all down for a moment. His eyes travelled across Sam’s torso like he was trying to calculate something before he shifted to Roman and did the same thing. Is he sizing us up? Sam wondered silently.

“Crawl through and let us in.” Fletcher finally spoke but Sam couldn’t focus on what he said, instead watching as blood dripped over the navy blue of the blazer.

“You’re bleeding.” Sam stated.

“I’m fine.”

Sam stared in disbelief for a second before taking his foot and clearing the bottom of the window of glass. Cautiously and painfully slow, he inched himself through the window. Admittedly, it wasn’t the first time he’d snuck through a window and he doubted it would be the last. As he pulled his feet through, he could hear Fletcher complaining. Sam dusted himself off and let the other boys in.

Wordless, Fletcher passed by the door and sped down to the basement. The other boys exchanged another look of confusion but still went after him. In the same room they’d painted so long ago, Fletcher stood staring at the cracks in the wall. Bigger now, but almost deeper like they were growing every second. Fletcher rummaged around through his pocket before handing the translation to Ellis. He asked Ellis to read it out loud. It took Ellis a moment but he read the words with nearly perfect articulation despite the sentence not making much sense.

On the last word, the cracked paint fell away revealing a thick red wooden door with a large metal ring as a door handle. Fletcher swung the heavy door back, and signaled for the boys to go in first.

“How did you know about this?” Sam asked but Fletcher waited for him to enter the room before turning the lights on.

The space reminded Sam of the tunnels but brighter like a hospital with artificial light. It felt the same though. A short hall led to a large room with cement floors. Tables were set out but with a thick top which made Sam question if they were actually workbenches. Two large tool racks sat on the back wall. Sam didn’t recognize any of the tools but he thought the room could have been an old woodshop class. In the corners of the room were bizarrely large cabinets beside a smaller thin file cabinet. Ellis stepped in the room first, immediately taking interest in the shelves across one wall. The shelf held what seemed to be preservatives in old mason jars. Something about the space made Sam’s stomach twist. Quietly, he pulled Roman back and said,

“We should go. Vibes are off.”

“Let’s scope it out first.” Roman said.

“Helen said something about bodies being kept here.” Fletcher announced in an unfamiliar voice.

“Helen?” Roman replied, tilting his head.

“Oh....” Fletcher squinted for a moment. “Helga.”

With a quick smile, Fletcher waved off the concern and shifted his attention to one of the smaller file cabinets. He pulled back the handle with all his force but the lock didn’t budge. Ellis kept scanning the jars seemingly unbothered by the idea of bodies being among them.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Roman whispered back quietly.

“We should leave.” Sam declared louder more for Ellis’s sake than Fletchers. “This isn’t right.”

“Do what you want. I don’t care.” Fletcher replied, getting increasingly aggressive with the cabinet. “Say Davenport, you can pick a lock, right?”

“No?” Roman said.

He can pick a lock, why is he asking? Sam questioned silently. It must have been a different type of lock or something but it didn’t explain why he’d ask Roman of all people. Tucking his elbows in tight, Fletcher started beating on the cabinet.

“Ease up, dude!” Roman scanned the room and found a pointed metal tool with a wooden handle, like an icepick but longer. Sliding the mental in the small opening of the cabinet, Roman jammed it before prying the drawer open. He tossed the icepick on the workbench.

“Thanks.” Fletcher didn’t sound very thankful.

He piled up the files off to the left of one of the work benches. Turning around, Ellis’s face flashed white. He slowly showed a jar with a peeling label filled to the brim with a pinkish fluid. Squinting, Sam looked closer. Inside the jar looked like a fatty piece of meat.

“It’s organs. These are human organs.” Ellis pushed his glasses down and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, come off it.” Fletcher dismissed him

“What is this place?” Roman stumbled back looking to the now closed door. When did that happen?

“An unethical body farm?” Fletcher offered. “It doesn’t matter. We have what we need, let's go.”

Silence fell over them. Sam looked to the door, noticing there was no handle on their side. Logistically speaking, they were locked in. He shifted himself away from Fletcher and closer to Roman. Something was wrong with Fletcher. Normally, he’d never act like this. After everything they’d done at the docks, he’d nearly vomited but now he was acting as if death meant nothing to him. It could have been his new found ability to talk to the dead but Sam felt it was more.

“Doors stuck.” Roman answered hesitantly.

“Oh.” Fletcher backed himself into the tool wall, putting space between himself and Roman.

“What did you get out of the cabinet?” Sam asked

“Magic resources. Stuff we will need to....” Fletcher twitched. “To complete the ritual.”

“Show me.” Ellis demanded and took large strides towards him.

“No. You don’t need to see.”

“You lied.” Ellis poked Fletcher in the chest.

“I’m not taking ethical criticism from a Holloway.”

“Fletcher doesn’t lie. Ever.” Ellis reached up and ripped the sunglasses off his face revealing unusually brown eyes. Brown like freshly tilled soil.

Jolting forward, Fletcher jammed a pair of scissors from the tool wall into Ellis, just above his collar bone. He let out an awful shriek and fell backwards. In an instant, Roman was between them trying to hold Fletcher back. Sam jumped in, trying to climb on his back. Fletcher was stronger than anyone gave credit for. Between Ellis’s ungodly screams and incoherent yelling from Roman, Sam could hear Fletcher repeat,

“He killed me.”

“Get something to tie him up with!" Slamming him into the table, Roman tried to keep him pinned down.

Ellis struggled back to his feet; scissors still firmly planted in his skin. Blood soaked through the white dress shirt. He was unbelievably pale, practically ivory. Stumbling around, he got some power cords and wrapped them around the table and Fletcher.

“The second I’m untied, I’ll kill you. Maybe the whole Holloway Clan while I’m at it.” Fletcher's laugh came out distorted like television static.

“Why? What did I do?” Ellis’s voice cracked.

“Oh my god, isn’t it obvious. Look around, kiddo. This room is a fucking torture chamber that belongs to your family.”

Sam took the file Fletcher pulled from the file cabinet. Flipping through the first few pages, it was a standard student record but the further into the file he got the worse it got. It was a detailed report about the deconstruction of his body and the investigation into his disappearance. He was speechless.

“Eh, pretty boy.” Fletcher's voice became more and more gravely. Roman looked down at him. “Yeah, you. Take a look in the bottom drawer of that cabinet.”

Roman slowly crossed the room, one of the largest cabinets. The drawers were deep and wide, making Sam wonder what it was supposed to be used for. Roman only got the cabinet half way open before falling to his knees and dry heaving. Inching closer, Sam saw the mummified corpse of a child and a folded Holloway academy uniform set out beside it. It must have been Henry Miller.

“What the fuck.... What the actual fuck.” Sam was out of air for reasons beyond his knowledge.

“We need to go.” Roman repeated again and again as he struggled to stand.

“And what are we going to do about Fletcher?” Ellis asked an unfortunately important question.

“Untie him, shove him in the trunk of your car. We can figure it out from there.” Roman offered as he shoved the drawer shut.

“Great, add kidnapping to the laundry list of crimes we’ve committed.”

“Well, what do you suggest-”

“Guys...It’s me.” Fletcher sounded like himself again. The boys turned to look at him, seeing the return of his green eyes.

“Prove it.” Sam countered, not entirely convinced by the eyes.

“When we were ten you and Roman threw Ellis’s bike into the river because you wanted to see how far it could get. You told Ellis that wolves must have taken it. Which he believed.”

“That was you? How could-”

“Be mad later.” Roman replied as he untied Fletcher. “What was that about?”

“Possession, I guess.” Fletcher said, rubbing his neck.

“No shit.” he turned his back to Fletcher. “We still need to figure out how to open the door from the inside.”

Fletcher started to move in an unnatural way, like electricity was coursing through him. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Ellis stepped away from him, cautiously watching for what he might do. Whimpering, Fletcher got off the table. Did we hurt him? Sam questioned although he was certain that it shouldn’t have been as bad as he was making it seem.

“Are you okay?” Ellis asked.

“Dandy.” Fletcher replied quickly as he snatched the icepick off the workbench.

With all the force in his body, he stabbed it into Roman’s chest pads. Shoving him back, Roman practically tackled him back onto the work bench. Ellis tied him up again as Roman pulled the ice pick out, tearing his pads as he went. Fletcher's eyes were a nauseating brown with a twisted smirk to match.

“Come on, Davenport. Let me slice and dice Holloway. I’ll let you and the other one live. Not like anyone would find the body down here but I suppose you guys are already good with disposal.”

Questions plagued Sam. How was Henry doing this? Was Fletcher still in there? What happened to Henry to make him so vengeful? How much did Henry know? He couldn’t get answers, not from Henry at least.

“Call Helga.” Sam said.