*Isabelle*

Isabelle sat in one of the desk chairs, calmly watching Madison freak out about her boyfriend, calmly listening to her say horrible things about Allary. Isabelle would've loved to stick up for her friend, but Madison scared her. Sophomore year, she'd bullied a freshman till she killed herself, just because she'd said Madison's jacket looked ratchet. Isabelle didn't wanna mess with Madison. Not one bit.

"Keep it down, will you?" Evan sighed, turning to Madison.

"Don't fucking tell me what to do!" Madison snarled.

"Oh, okay then. Keep yelling. Get eaten by animatronics for all I care."

"You're a jackass."

"So, what does that make you? Queen Tramp?"

"Oh, fuck you!"

"I'd rather you didn't....I don't like you like that. I don't like you at all, actually."

That actually shut Madison up. Isabelle smiled to herself, and then wiped it off her face. She hated that she liked Evan, because she was 100% positive that he didn't feel the same way.

"Hey, Bella, come look at this." Evan said from across the room.

She loved his nickname for her. She walked over to him. He was holding the camera tablet that Michael had found. He flipped it around to show her the screen. It showed the wolf walking through the locker room. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she thanked god that it wasn't anywhere near them. The screen flickered and suddenly went black.

"Hey, what the hell?" Evan hit the side of the device.

"It m-might b-be out of b-battery." Isabelle stuttered.

She didn't have a speech impediment, she was just so shy and introverted that she literally couldn't talk to anyone she didn't trust. In other words, she only talked to Allary, Evan, Michael, and her family members.

"I think you're right. Maybe there's a charger nearby," Evan said, "Let's take a look around."

"Y-yeah." Isabelle agreed.

Evan switched on his flashlight on and pointed it at the nearest door, which was labelled 'Ben's Room'. He tried the doorknob. It was locked.

"Damn. Maybe another door?" Evan suggested, turning around.

As he did so, the flashlight's beam swept over a few of the desks. Something glittered on the closest one.

"H-hold on...there w-was something on one of th-the desks..." Isabelle grabbed his arm.

"Which one?" Evan asked.

"Th-the cl-closest one."

Evan turned the light back to the desk. Isabelle strode over to it and searched the surface. There was a lock pick on the desk. She picked it up.

"What was it?" Evan inquired.

"A lock pick." Isabelle answered.

"Hm. I don't know how to use those. Do you?"

"I do."

"What?! Really?"

"Y-yeah."

Isabelle went to the door and got down on her knees. She carefully worked the lock pick into the lock. She jiggled the pick around, switching the places and the positions. Eventually, the lock clicked. Isabelle stood up and opened the door.

"Color me impressed. I didn't know you could pick locks." Evan commented.

Isabelle smiled at the praise, and opened the door. Inside, there was a charger. Or, what looked like a charger. It looked like a rectangular plate.

"Might as well try it." Evan said, setting the tablet down on the device.

The tablet surprisingly began to charge. Evan let out a quiet cheer and turned the tablet on. It was still on the locker room cameras, and the wolf was nowhere to be seen. Evan switched to a different camera, and swore. Isabelle peered at the screen. The camera showed a horrifying scene. Michael was on the ground, half under a desk, and Travis had Allary pinned to a wall by her neck. Allary went limp suddenly, but Travis didn't release her until a few moments later. She dropped to the ground, motionless. He then grabbed her left wrist with both hands.

"He's trying to break her wrist," Evan snarled, "He's trying to make it so that Allary can't get away if she wakes up. That son of a bitch. We have to go."

Travis stood up and pressed his foot onto Allary's thighs, but suddenly, the cat dropped out of the ceiling vents several feet behind Travis. It slunk behind Travis and sent him flying into some nearby desks with one swipe of its enormous paws. The cat went after him. Evan ran his hands through his hair in frustration and began looking around the room for something.

"We have to go help them. Right now. Travis may be a traitorous psychopath, but he doesn't deserve to be killed by a six-foot metal cat." Evan rambled, continuing to search the room.

Evan left the small office suddenly, and Isabelle nervously followed, feeling sick to her stomach.