Inside Great Hill High (Basketball court): "Eric Damian... I wasn't expecting you," Peterson stuttered, sounding like someone who had just realized he had dug his own grave. "Well, well, well. If it isn't my old-time friend Peter... son. I should have known, I should have known it was you all along... my impersonator. Who else knows me so well if not you? I have never encountered a more cunning and manipulative being like yourself in the thousand years I have walked upon this God-forsaken planet," Damian said with a smirk, slowly walking towards Peterson, his intentions oozing malevolence. Peterson's throat tightened as he swallowed. "Damian, listen. I only played a prank on you by impersonating you. I meant no harm, and no harm was done. But I'm sorry anyway. I mean, we have been friends for a very long time. You just can't kill me like that. We are practically brothers, Damian," Peterson pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice as Damian closed in on him. "Some kind of brothe

"He can never mean or bring her harm," Mathias assured, his voice filled with conviction. "And how can you be so sure?" Adams inquired, a hint of skepticism in his tone. Mathias smiled, his confidence unwavering. "Clara once asked how she became a hybrid when both her parents are humans. The answer is Eric Damian. He is her real father, Adams. How can he possibly mean her harm?" Mathias explained, his words laced with assurance. Adams muttered, caught off guard by the revelation. "What?" "Don't tell her anything yet. He will tell her himself when he feels the time is right," Mathias advised, his tone filled with caution. Back at Peterson Mansion... Peterson sat down on one of his plush Italian leather couches, cradling a glass of whiskey in his hand. He took a sip, savoring the flavor. "That was so close, so very close... Everything I had planned, everything I worked so hard for, was on the verge of disappearing. A mere mistake could have cost me everything," Peterson muttered t

“Please, could you kindly indicate our exact location on this map?" Mathias inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity. The chubby girl obligingly extended her finger to pinpoint their position on the map. "Thank you," Mathias expressed his gratitude, his words carrying a note of relief, and the girl retreated to her previous seat. Mathias proceeded to trace a circle encompassing both the coffee shop and Clara's house, using his pen. The circle represented the area of interest. "Alright, in order to search for a vampire or a werewolf, or even better, a hybrid, I will require the blood of one such creature," Mathias stated, his voice filled with determination. Damian willingly offered his hand, presenting it to Mathias. With precision, Mathias pricked Damian's index finger using the sharp edge of his pen, causing droplets of blood to fall onto the map. "What comes next?" Damian impatiently inquired, his tone reflecting his eagerness. Mathias couldn't help but smile. "Just this once

"Damian, what on earth do you think you're doing?" Mathias attempted to reason with Damian, his voice tinged with concern. "Stay out of this, boy! Unless you want to spill your own blood," Damian growled at him, causing Mathias to feel his resolve crumble. Damian turned to Jackson, who was still trying to make sense of the chaotic situation. Grasping Jackson's shirt, Damian forcefully slammed him against the wall, his anger simmering. "Speak up! I know it was you who cursed Clara. Now, you will release her from the curse!" Damian shouted at him, his voice laced with fury. "Clara is cursed? I have no idea what you're talking about... and who are you?" Jackson replied, looking bewildered, but Damian wasn't convinced. He slammed Jackson against the wall once again, his frustration mounting. Then, he turned to Mathias and Fateema, who appeared visibly shaken. "Can you perform the uncloaking spell here?" Damian inquired, his tone demanding, and Fateema nodded in response. "Good. Tha

Time: 6:12 PMLocation: Dr. Ellen's residence. "Hang that up over here! No, there!" Mr. Jackson instructed the man on the ladder, his voice laced with urgency, as he pointed to where he wanted the Clara's birthday banner to be hung. On the banner, the words were imprinted in bold letters: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY CLARA." It was Clara's special day, and the excitement filled the air. Mr. Jackson, with a beaming smile, exuded a contagious energy throughout the house, eagerly awaiting the start of the party. However, the celebrant herself was a mess inside her room... Clara had woken up this morning feeling surprisingly fine, free from her usual nightmares. As she got out of bed, an unfamiliar sensation washed over her, and she no longer felt the weight of despair. In fact, she felt remarkably good—better than she had ever felt before. Singing in the shower, Clara immersed herself in the joyous moment, a stark departure from her previous melancholic routines. She descended the stairs, ready