Life had been anything but normal. Tonight was no exception.

Ethan stumbled into Benny’s room, clutching his phone. “Sarah just texted. Something’s up at the old theater,” he panted.

Benny, lounging with a half-finished spellbook, perked up. “Something supernatural? Or are we talking ‘Sarah needs us to carry popcorn’ again?”

Ethan shook his head, his visions still flashing in his mind. “It’s bad. I saw Jesse… and some kind of ritual.”

Benny’s grin faltered. “The last time we dealt with Jesse, I almost became a vampire snack.”

“Same,” Rory chimed in, popping his head into the room. “But also, not the same, because vampires are kinda awesome?” He adjusted his glasses sheepishly as Benny rolled his eyes.

By the time the trio reached the theater, Erica was already there. She stood on the steps, arms crossed, her face alight with excitement. “Took you long enough. I’ve been dying for some real action.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Sarah said, stepping out of the shadows. Her eyes glinted faintly red, and she looked tense. “Jesse’s inside. He’s not alone.”

Ethan swallowed hard. “What does he want now?”

Sarah hesitated. “Power. Revenge. The usual. But he’s not just after me this time… He’s targeting you, Ethan.”

Before anyone could respond, a crash echoed from within the theater. Benny whispered, “Well, that’s our cue.”

As they crept inside, Jesse’s voice rang out, smooth and dangerous. “Ah, the gang’s all here. Just in time to witness history.” Flanked by Gord and Wes, Jesse turned toward them, his fangs gleaming.

Ethan clenched his fists. “We’re not letting you win, Jesse.”

Jesse smirked. “Oh, Ethan, this isn’t about winning. It’s about survival. Yours is optional.”

The group stood firm, ready to fight—half-turned vampire, psychic, spellcaster, adventurer, and curious nerd—each unsure if they’d make it out but knowing one thing for certain: Whitechapel was anything but ordinary.