Inside was a small conference room. The kind used for meetings. On the left side of the wall are wooden shelves with glass sliding doors. A flat-screen television is mounted on the wall across the room. There was just one table, a white and oval one, but it was large enough to be shared with a dozen people. Major Coleman had us take a seat on black, modern chairs while he and the librarian busy themselves over one of the shelves.

"Of course it goes without saying that everything you learn here remains a secret," Major Coleman said as the librarian set down a white storage box. The words Cult Investigation was written on the lid in red ink.

"You kept something like this in a public library?" I asked.

Major Coleman pointed at the door where we came in. "That is a public library. This room here is a government facility for storage and documentation," he explained, pointing down the floor with both his fingers. "Everything you'll see is strictly confidential. We usually keep this type of information private for obvious reasons, even for haunteds' eyes."

"I think haunteds would think twice to mess around with something like this," Leo said.

Major Coleman just shrugged. "Can't be too careful."

Cato picked up on my question. "So acquiring the museum, building a library on the second floor—"

"A misdirect. A sleight of hand," he stammered for a bit, seeming lost for words. "How do you kids call it?" His face lit up and snapped his fingers. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "Trolling!"

No one dared to correct him because he looked so proud of himself of knowing that word. And I don't want to be the one to wipe the grin off his face. "Right," I encouraged. The others started producing somewhat convincing noises of approvals.

I thought that the librarian was going to get more boxes out of the shelves but she went out of the door. Cana lifted the lid off. Her eyebrows knitted together. "Is this it?"

I stood from my chair and lean over. There was just one brown, folder inside. I picked it up. "Major Coleman?" I asked him. "We need everything."

"You're holding it," Major Coleman said, his face was a mixture of embarrassment and disappointment. "We know very little about them. We don't know what their goal was. What they believed in. Their current whereabouts."

Everyone started crowding around me. "Current whereabouts?" Caprice said. "My teacher said they were all killed during the massacre."

"All that was present, yes," Major Coleman said. "As you will read inside, we never found their church."

My hand was about to open the folder when Major Coleman stopped me. "You should also know that the pictures inside are quite graphic."

He wasn't kidding. Attached to the reports were pictures of the gruesome encounters. The first photo was what I assumed to be after the massacre took place, based on the number of dead bodies shrouded in black cloth.

Another picture showed the students hanging from the ceiling, suspended with cables and meat hooks through their necks. Their heads were missing. Not chopped off, because that would show bones. No. Their heads were gone. Like it was photoshopped out of their bodies.

"I'm guessing this is how the Haunteds Identification System was established?" Cato said.

Major Coleman leaned over. "Ahh, yes. At first, we don't know what to make of the missing heads. But years of comparing photos through generations of haunteds, it stayed consistent. This led us to theorize that this is how the Shade marks its intended victims."

Any other kid would have thrown up or burst into tears seeing these photos but not us. Compared to Kent's and Eris' deaths, these gory images are boring. Besides, we have a goal in mind. We were too busy to be scared.

I was expecting to see something more of a cult church. But ignoring all the dead bodies and the hanging corpses of the students, the place looks more like an empty, abandoned warehouse. There was nothing cult-y about it. No statues. No altars. Nothing.

"The prevailing theory was that the warehouse was not their church at all. Just a site they've chosen to perform their ritual in since it was close to the schools they've targeted. If the church and all of their teachings do exist, well, we've never come close to finding them," Major Coleman explained when I asked him about it.

There's this other photo of a symbol on the floor, drawn with what I assumed to be blood. It was a black sun with a red eye in the center. The sun had exactly twelve licks of flame. The tip of each flame points to a different animal marked with a lit candle.

"That's the zodiac symbol," Harmony said over my shoulder. "Except for the eye and black sun."

I kept on reading. Apparently, the victims were born on different zodiac dates. "So, the haunteds aren't based on age, but on when they were born?"

"That is the recurring pattern over the years," Major Coleman said.

"Well, I was born on September 6. That makes me what?"

"A Virgo." Harmony offered. "I know Zodiac. I'm October 9, by the way. Libra."

Everyone started volunteering their date of birth around the table, with Harmony helping to identify their zodiac signs as I list it down.

Vergil, September 6—Virgo.

Harmony, October 9—Libra.

Cato, February 15—Aquarius.

Indigo, March 12—Pisces.

Darius, May 18—Taurus.

Demi, June 20—Gemini.

Cana, July 22—Cancer.

Scarlet, November 6—Scorpio.

Caprice, January 14—Capricorn.

"And you, Leo?" I said.

"August 10. Leo." He said. "And Eris is April 7. Want to take a guess if she's an Aries?"

"Your parents aren't that creative, are they?" I said.

He just shrugged. "I guess that leaves Sagittarius. For Kent."

Right. Kent. We have no way of knowing his birthday. Not that it matters.

"How is this going to help again?" Cana asked.

"Not sure," I admitted. "But it's something."

Photos kept getting passed around. I was holding a picture of the dead body of the cult leader, Daniel Cruz. He had common features. Black hair, brown skin, narrow chin, and thick eyebrows. He died with his eyes open so I can see that they're brown, too. His most distinguishing feature was the mole beneath his left eye.

The reports said that he had no credit card information, no known address, education and employment history are blank. It's like he just popped up out of nowhere. It's not just him. Most of the members killed that night still hadn't been identified.

"So how did you get his name?" Indigo asked Major Coleman.

"They've had T.V. stations ask viewers for any information," Major Coleman explained. "For a reward, of course. An old classmate called in when they flashed his face over the evening news."

"So he managed to erase his past, live off the grid and abduct twelve kids in a week," I said. "How do you think he did it?"

"Your guess is as good as ours." Major Coleman said.

"You have the symbol, access to our blood," Cato said, sliding Major Coleman the ritual symbol picture. "Surely, you've tried to replicate the ritual, unsummon the Shade?"

"We can't," Major Coleman said. "We don't know how. We brought in occult experts, famed astrologist, and even historians and scholars to figure out the ritual. But no such luck."

He pointed at the sun-eye symbol. "We can't just draw the symbol and hope that it'll work. It will be no different than a doodle. Without the knowledge of the ceremony, the chants or prayer, there simply isn't anything we can do. But of course, we banned all documentaries about the cult, removed all articles on the internet. Any information we have about the cult are either not made known to the public or had been deliberately changed."

"In case someone's crazy enough to try and actually replicate it," I said.

"And actually managed to repeat the ritual," Major Coleman said.

"These vials..." Cato said, holding the picture up to Major Coleman. "What were they for?"

"We believe that they drained the blood of each student and stored them inside individual vials for consumption," Major Coleman explained.

"I'm sorry, what?" Caprice said.

Cana was turning green. "That's, like, super gross."

"And that's how you get HIV," Darius said.

Caprice stared at him, her mouth and eyes wide in horror. "What is wrong with you?"

Darius put his hands up. "I'm just saying." Her sister, Scarlet, looked down, shaking her head.

"But it says here that there were only six vials found," Cato said.

"Wait, why only six?" I asked. "Weren't there twelve students abducted?"

"That's what I've been thinking," he said. "It doesn't add up."

"And you think them drinking blood was part of the ritual?" I asked Major Coleman.

"If you read further," Major Coleman said. "You will see that the strike team went in during the middle of their ceremony. They interrupted the seventh vial being delivered to the cult leader when it happened. Whatever the cult was trying to do, they weren't able to finish it."

"So the rest of the vials," I said. "They never made it to the cult leader?"

"That makes the Shade, what?" Cato said. "An accident?"

"Maybe," Major Coleman said. For a moment, the room went silent as we absorbed this new information dropped on us, the implications it had.

"Did you catch any member," Demi asked. "You know, interrogated one?"

"Sadly, no," Major Coleman said. "These people...they didn't fear death. They welcome it. They saw it as a necessary step towards their goal. So whenever one was cornered, they would always, always choose the bullet. Either ours or their own."

"And the cult and its members have never been found again, right?" Indigo said.

"Correct," Major Coleman said. "Personally, I believe they're still out there, practicing their twisted ways."

Now the secrecy and excessive defenses of Biringan makes sense. The cult could still be out there. But they never made any move? Or have they? Did they have something to do with the sudden change of the Shade? If so, what are their plans? When will they move again? Why haven't they revealed themselves yet, what are they waiting for?

"I knew it was too much," I said. "The lengths you went to hide the location of the dorm, of Biringan. It wasn't just to keep us away from the public. It was more to protect us from the cult."

"It was deemed best not to underestimate the cult," Major Coleman said. 

The discussion ended. No one had anything else to ask, to say. We weren't any closer in solving the mystery. Despair was building up in me. Maybe we were just kidding ourselves. What exactly was I hoping for? If even the government and experts, with all their resources and years of study, admitted of being just as clueless, what chance does a group of teenagers have? And tonight, we were going to face the Shade again. Maybe for the last time.

"Well," Harmony said. "At least the lights still work."

For a moment, there was silence. I just stared at her in disbelief. How can she be so optimistic about it.

"Don't forget. We just killed it last night," Leo followed. "No one has ever done that!" My mood shifted from desperation and fear to hope, and maybe feeling a little bit embarrassed. They were right. If even Leo's feeling confident about our odds, then I must be overthinking this whole thing, which I usually do. We already beat the Shade once. We just have to do it again. And this time, without losing anyone.

"Still, abducting twelve students in one week, bringing the attention of the police to their activities?" Cato said. "Not the smartest way to get just a few ounces of blood."

I agree. They didn't need a lot. Just enough to fill their vials. The vials made me remember my physical with Cana when Nurse Aaron took our blood. And stored them in vials...

"That's it!" I jumped out of my seat. "You're a genius!"

"What?" Cato said, looking shocked.

I turned to Major Coleman. "Since when did haunteds need to take physical exams?"

"Um," Major Coleman said, clearly startled by my sudden question. "It was actually new this year..."

"And you believed that the cult might still exist, right? What if the cult found out that there are fresh supplies of haunteds' blood ready for them to take?"

Demi's face lit up. "Then they could perform the ritual again!"

"In secret, this time," Leo added.

Cato nodded. "That would explain the drastic changes of the Shade. A cultist could have gotten hold of all our blood and perform the ritual."

"But to know that, you'd have to be within the system," Major Coleman said. "The school doctor or the nurse."

"Right," I turned to Cana. "Your dad took your blood, right? Aaron took mine. We can go ask..." Seeing her reaction made me paused. I was on a roll, so absorbed about making my point, so hopeful about planning our next move that I didn't realize the implications of what I was saying.

That, indirectly, I'm accusing her dad as a cultist.