Stiles's Arc

Chapter 2 of 3

Stiles spread his research materials across the wooden table and took a deep breath. The Study Hall felt quiet around him, waiting. He needed to start somewhere simple, somewhere logical. First, he would catalog every creature mentioned in the old texts. Then he would match them to the recent sightings around the manor. His fingers traced the edge of his journal as he considered the task ahead. The work would take time, but he had to be thorough. He pulled the first heavy book toward him and opened to the table of contents. Categories jumped out at him—spectral beings, nocturnal predators, shapeshifters. His pulse quickened. This was real. People had documented these things before, which meant he wasn't chasing shadows. He picked up his pencil and began copying the first entry into his journal, his handwriting neat and careful. Every detail mattered now. Hours passed as he filled page after page with notes. His hand cramped, but he kept writing. The texts described creatures he'd never imagined—beings that shifted between forms, shadows that moved on their own, things with too many eyes. He needed a better system to track everything. Just cataloging wasn't enough. He had to see how the pieces connected. Stiles left the Study Hall and walked until he found what he needed—a building marked as the Regency Era Archive of Supernatural Sightings. Inside, elegant columns framed walls of filing cabinets and shelves. He pulled drawer after drawer, finding yellowed reports and faded sketches. Some dated back over a century. The same creatures appeared again and again in the records, always near the same locations. Back outside, Stiles set up a carved wooden card rack on a stone bench in the courtyard. He wrote each creature sighting on a separate card—the date, the location, the description. Then he arranged them in rows, looking for patterns. Three sightings of glowing eyes near the east woods, all in autumn. Five reports of missing livestock during new moons. His heart beat faster. The pieces were starting to fit together. This wasn't random. These creatures followed rules, patterns he could track and predict. He pulled out a fresh card and wrote his own sighting from the manor gardens. It matched perfectly with a report from fifty years ago. He sat back and stared at his work. He had his system now. He had his method. The investigation could truly begin.