Frank's eyes grew even wider and his mouth fell open to reveal his pearly whites. WEREWOLVES! A low gurgle erupted from Frank's mouth that quickly became louder. Soon, Frank was laughing so hard he had tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Oh man!" Frank declared when he could talk again. "You really had me going." He wiped his eyes and looked into Joe's stony face. "Come on, you can't be serious!" he exclaimed.
"I'm not laughing," replied Joe, hurt.
"Joe, there is no such thing as a werewolf," Frank told him. "It's a myth made up because of a fear people had of individuals who suffer from a disease that caused them to grow excessive hair on their face and body."
"That's what I used to think," Joe said. "But not any more. I am a werewolf."
Frank could tell Joe really believed what he was saying. He thought back to the stack of books he had found in Craig's apartment. Had Craig believed he was a werewolf too? Had Mayhem somehow brainwashed Joe and Craig into believing they were werewolves? He had to convince Joe he wasn't a werewolf, but how?
"Wait a minute," Frank said finally. "To be a werewolf wouldn't you have to be attacked by one?"
"I was scratched by one," answered Joe. "That first night in Mayhem's lab."
"I saw your hand," Frank said, shaking his head. "There wasn't a mark on you."
"It healed," Joe insisted. "Almost as soon as it happened."
"So, if you were to get cut you would heal fast?" queried Frank.
Joe nodded. "Definitely," he said. "I did at the university."
Frank reached over and clawed Joe's arm. "OW!" Joe yelped, pulling his arm back. "What did you do that for?" he demanded, turning to glare at his older brother.
"Has it healed?" Frank asked, ignoring Joe's outrage.
Joe looked at his arm. "No," he replied, perplexed. He kept looking at his arm as if his gaze would make the marks vanish.
"See, you have been worried about nothing," insisted Frank in a gentle tone. "That wound would have been long gone by now if you were a werewolf."
"But in the cellar..." Joe started to argue but bit his tongue and silenced himself.
"You do remember what happened?" Frank demanded sharply.
"A bit," Joe answered hesitantly. "I...I remember being in a lot of pain but that's pretty much it."
"Anderson hurt you," Frank said, his voice revealing his anger. "But he can't hurt you again."
"I don't remember him being there," Joe said thoughtfully. "And my clothes. They were in shreds."
"Joe, I don't know what happened in the cellar but I do know one thing with absolute certainty: You are not a werewolf," Frank told him a clear, precise tone.
Joe still didn't look convinced although his gaze did return to the scratch Frank had made on his arm. "But I do think you're right about one thing," Frank continued. "Mayhem is involved in Craig's disappearance."
"So what do you want to do?" asked Joe, his attention once again on his brother.
"Go see Ravelson," suggested Frank. "Get him to let us check Mayhem's lab."
"Okay," agreed Joe. "Maybe if we can find Mayhem we can find out why he had files on Jonathan, Craig and me."
Frank started the van and the two were on their way. As Joe watched the scenery trying unobtrusively to look at his scratch every few seconds Frank wondered what Mayhem had done to Joe's mind and more importantly, why. Was he conducting some unethical experiment to see if a human would take on the characteristics of a werewolf? After all, the man did study wolves. YES! He must have hypnotized or brainwashed Joe into believing he was a werewolf! Frank gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white. He would find Mayhem and force him to undo the damage he had done to his brother if it was the last thing he ever did!
Frank found a visitor's parking space and came to a stop . Exiting the van, the two made their way to the Dean's Office. "Hello," Dean Ravelson greeted the two youths as they were granted permission into the Dean's inner sanctum. "Joe, I am so glad to see you are all right. I am sorry your investigation proved so traumatic."
"Not your fault," Joe returned, giving the dean a reassuring smile. "Actually, we are here to ask you for a favor."
"Of course," the Dean agreed at once then waited expectantly for him to put in his request.
"We want to see Mayhem's lab," Frank said.
"Not a problem," Ravelson stated with a smile. He retrieved a key from his desk and handed it to Frank. "Of course, one of the keys you already possess will let you in the building after hours. I am assuming you intend to keep looking for Dr. Mayhem until you have found him?" he added with the quirk of an eyebrow.
"Yes, Sir," Frank admitted pulling out the keys and removing one of them before slipping on the key to Mayhem's lab. He handed the Dean the key to Aliem's old lab. "Thank you, Sir," he said. "We will keep in touch and let you know if we find him."
The two boys left the administration building and headed to the science building. "Hold up," ordered Joe as his stomach began rumbling. "Can we get something to eat first?"
Frank grinned. Joe may be going through a difficult time but he knew as long as Joe's appetite was working, and as of late it was working overtime, then Joe would be fine.
The two made a detour to the cafeteria where Frank picked up a ham and Swiss sub. Joe got two double burgers with fries and they took a seat at a table near the exit. "If you keep eating like that you're going to have a heart attack before you're twenty," Frank warned him with a frown.
Joe shrugged. "Doc gave me a complete bill of health," he reminded Frank. "Including my cholesterol level," he added before sinking his teeth into the first burger.
The two finished at the same time and emptied their trays before leaving. "Hey, check it out," Frank said, pausing in front of the bulletin board in front of the library. "Dr. Alfred Corbin is going to be on campus in a couple of weeks to talk about his book."
"What book?" asked Joe.
"Footprints," Frank answered. "He's a specialist in self-defense," he continued. "I've got to bring Callie. She's the one who gave me his book to read."
"Sounds dull," Joe replied, turning away as Frank checked the date and time.
"Wait up!" Frank called out, turning around and seeing Joe had gone on without him. Joe stopped and looked back. He hadn't realized Frank hadn't accompanied him from across the street. He waited a bit impatiently as Frank stopped and looked both ways before starting across the street. Joe heard a motor start up and looked up the road. A fiery red Dodge truck had just pulled onto the highway. Joe recognized the vehicle and knew he should relax but the truck increased speed and Joe knew it would reach the middle of the road just as Frank did. Without batting an eye, Joe began running across the six-lane street in a desperate attempt to reach Frank before the truck did.
Frank heard the truck approaching and looked up to see it barreling straight for him. His eyes widened as he felt a heavy impact and crashed to the pavement. The truck continued down the street while Frank lay on the hard pavement, unmoving.
"Oh man!" Frank declared when he could talk again. "You really had me going." He wiped his eyes and looked into Joe's stony face. "Come on, you can't be serious!" he exclaimed.
"I'm not laughing," replied Joe, hurt.
"Joe, there is no such thing as a werewolf," Frank told him. "It's a myth made up because of a fear people had of individuals who suffer from a disease that caused them to grow excessive hair on their face and body."
"That's what I used to think," Joe said. "But not any more. I am a werewolf."
Frank could tell Joe really believed what he was saying. He thought back to the stack of books he had found in Craig's apartment. Had Craig believed he was a werewolf too? Had Mayhem somehow brainwashed Joe and Craig into believing they were werewolves? He had to convince Joe he wasn't a werewolf, but how?
"Wait a minute," Frank said finally. "To be a werewolf wouldn't you have to be attacked by one?"
"I was scratched by one," answered Joe. "That first night in Mayhem's lab."
"I saw your hand," Frank said, shaking his head. "There wasn't a mark on you."
"It healed," Joe insisted. "Almost as soon as it happened."
"So, if you were to get cut you would heal fast?" queried Frank.
Joe nodded. "Definitely," he said. "I did at the university."
Frank reached over and clawed Joe's arm. "OW!" Joe yelped, pulling his arm back. "What did you do that for?" he demanded, turning to glare at his older brother.
"Has it healed?" Frank asked, ignoring Joe's outrage.
Joe looked at his arm. "No," he replied, perplexed. He kept looking at his arm as if his gaze would make the marks vanish.
"See, you have been worried about nothing," insisted Frank in a gentle tone. "That wound would have been long gone by now if you were a werewolf."
"But in the cellar..." Joe started to argue but bit his tongue and silenced himself.
"You do remember what happened?" Frank demanded sharply.
"A bit," Joe answered hesitantly. "I...I remember being in a lot of pain but that's pretty much it."
"Anderson hurt you," Frank said, his voice revealing his anger. "But he can't hurt you again."
"I don't remember him being there," Joe said thoughtfully. "And my clothes. They were in shreds."
"Joe, I don't know what happened in the cellar but I do know one thing with absolute certainty: You are not a werewolf," Frank told him a clear, precise tone.
Joe still didn't look convinced although his gaze did return to the scratch Frank had made on his arm. "But I do think you're right about one thing," Frank continued. "Mayhem is involved in Craig's disappearance."
"So what do you want to do?" asked Joe, his attention once again on his brother.
"Go see Ravelson," suggested Frank. "Get him to let us check Mayhem's lab."
"Okay," agreed Joe. "Maybe if we can find Mayhem we can find out why he had files on Jonathan, Craig and me."
Frank started the van and the two were on their way. As Joe watched the scenery trying unobtrusively to look at his scratch every few seconds Frank wondered what Mayhem had done to Joe's mind and more importantly, why. Was he conducting some unethical experiment to see if a human would take on the characteristics of a werewolf? After all, the man did study wolves. YES! He must have hypnotized or brainwashed Joe into believing he was a werewolf! Frank gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned a ghastly shade of white. He would find Mayhem and force him to undo the damage he had done to his brother if it was the last thing he ever did!
Frank found a visitor's parking space and came to a stop . Exiting the van, the two made their way to the Dean's Office. "Hello," Dean Ravelson greeted the two youths as they were granted permission into the Dean's inner sanctum. "Joe, I am so glad to see you are all right. I am sorry your investigation proved so traumatic."
"Not your fault," Joe returned, giving the dean a reassuring smile. "Actually, we are here to ask you for a favor."
"Of course," the Dean agreed at once then waited expectantly for him to put in his request.
"We want to see Mayhem's lab," Frank said.
"Not a problem," Ravelson stated with a smile. He retrieved a key from his desk and handed it to Frank. "Of course, one of the keys you already possess will let you in the building after hours. I am assuming you intend to keep looking for Dr. Mayhem until you have found him?" he added with the quirk of an eyebrow.
"Yes, Sir," Frank admitted pulling out the keys and removing one of them before slipping on the key to Mayhem's lab. He handed the Dean the key to Aliem's old lab. "Thank you, Sir," he said. "We will keep in touch and let you know if we find him."
The two boys left the administration building and headed to the science building. "Hold up," ordered Joe as his stomach began rumbling. "Can we get something to eat first?"
Frank grinned. Joe may be going through a difficult time but he knew as long as Joe's appetite was working, and as of late it was working overtime, then Joe would be fine.
The two made a detour to the cafeteria where Frank picked up a ham and Swiss sub. Joe got two double burgers with fries and they took a seat at a table near the exit. "If you keep eating like that you're going to have a heart attack before you're twenty," Frank warned him with a frown.
Joe shrugged. "Doc gave me a complete bill of health," he reminded Frank. "Including my cholesterol level," he added before sinking his teeth into the first burger.
The two finished at the same time and emptied their trays before leaving. "Hey, check it out," Frank said, pausing in front of the bulletin board in front of the library. "Dr. Alfred Corbin is going to be on campus in a couple of weeks to talk about his book."
"What book?" asked Joe.
"Footprints," Frank answered. "He's a specialist in self-defense," he continued. "I've got to bring Callie. She's the one who gave me his book to read."
"Sounds dull," Joe replied, turning away as Frank checked the date and time.
"Wait up!" Frank called out, turning around and seeing Joe had gone on without him. Joe stopped and looked back. He hadn't realized Frank hadn't accompanied him from across the street. He waited a bit impatiently as Frank stopped and looked both ways before starting across the street. Joe heard a motor start up and looked up the road. A fiery red Dodge truck had just pulled onto the highway. Joe recognized the vehicle and knew he should relax but the truck increased speed and Joe knew it would reach the middle of the road just as Frank did. Without batting an eye, Joe began running across the six-lane street in a desperate attempt to reach Frank before the truck did.
Frank heard the truck approaching and looked up to see it barreling straight for him. His eyes widened as he felt a heavy impact and crashed to the pavement. The truck continued down the street while Frank lay on the hard pavement, unmoving.