Hey guys. I know I haven't updated in a long time. I take responsibility for that. The story is being rewritten. I didn't like how I previously started. I will also change the cover picture. and change the summary. I also waned to note the Sterek factor of this story. Depending on how things progress it might just be slight Sterek. Or it could be fully Sterek. Reason why Is because I want to stay close to the main story line, and I like the Stalia relationship. But we'll see how this goes. I might have a poll in the future.

Roy McClain had seen some crazy shit in his life. Working in forensics gives you those unwanted yet inevitable nights. Or days. Depends on when the call is received really. Ten years he's been working this stick. So yeah, he's been around the WTF block many times.

But this. . .?

" Jesus. . ."

Blood everywhere. No shitt'in. The red stuff all over the walls, the floors, and even the ceiling. At least seventy percent of it. And to think the room was once an egg shell white. Now? Something you read about in a Stephen king novel.

Roy's eyes went over the mangled bodies on the floor. The mixed Irishman flinched at the site. Forget mangled. Eviscerated was the better word. Officer Brady clapped him on the shoulder.

" I don't envy you right now," said the cop. He was looking green in the face. Hell, everyone was.

" Thanks," Roy mumbled sarcastically.

" I'm going to step out for some air, because this is too much."

Roy nodded to him and went to work. His mind burst into a series of gears spinning, his eyes went sharp, and everyone and everything lost sound to him. Color fades from everything but the blood and the bodies. Two bodies stacked sloppily over each other. One female, one male. Male and a broken leg, missing four fingers on his right hand, and had a large slit between his brows.

The woman's face was severely beaten to shit. No facial recognition of any kind. Her neck snapped viciously. She was missing an arm. Roy looked to the left and saw it at the far corner of the room.

He turned around and gazed at a fat man who was impaled on three broken table legs. A nasty slash on his throat the shape of a smile. Sick as fuck, but it wasn't Roy's job to think of the immoral brutality of crime scenes.

He went into the bathroom. Cops moved out of the way to let him work. Another woman, mid-thirties drowned in a bath tub. Water was tainted with large amounts of blood. Roy blinked as he saw the bit wound on her throat.

The hell?

Definitely not human. Too clean and precises entry marks, but not delicate. If he didn't know better, Roy would say they resembled shark bites.

Back into the living room he examined two more bodies. Both males, chopped and hacked apart. The room was silent as everyone waited for his rundown. Roy started with the fat man.

" He was impaled first. He lost a lot of blood there, and you can see the pool of it is more to his lower body were the wounds are located. His throat was then slashed latter on. Most like after an interrogation. Betty sue in the bathroom was choked first. The left side of her throat is bruised, but the right side was nearly ripped out. Orally." Many of the staff hissed and cursed at that.

" In the midst if bleeding out, she was drowned. The other woman, viciously punched in the face multiple time. Broken nose, jaw, and left cheek bone. The killer is in top physical strength. Or at least one of them is. Nearly ripped her head off when he broke her neck." He eyed the missing arm. " Judging by how clean the cut the removed her arm, I would say a large blade was used. Machete most likely." Or a fucking sword. But Roy highly doubted that. This wasn't the dark ages.

" Finally are last two boys over there. Chopped apart. Are killers also decided to do a science project and gutted them. All the internal organs are sprawled out on the floor."

Sargent Perez stepped up. " What can you assess from this McClain?"

" This was most likely a gang war. The killers are professionals. Highly trained in combat and cold blooded like snakes." Roy's hand was itching to go for a cig in his pocket. " No hand, feet, or heads are missing. So they wanted these bodies, as well as the identities found. All this-" He motioned towards the blood splattered ceiling and walls-"Is their way of sending a message."

Samples were collected. Pictures taken. Hotel staff questioned. By the next two hours Roy's job was done for the night. He said his goodbyes to his co-workers and was walking out of the hotel. The fresh air was always refreshing. The calm black sky and stars much better than the feverish red of blood.

As much as he would like a one on one with his bed, he had to go back into the station and fill out a report and catalog the samples. The drive was quick. Cutting speed limits was a norm for him. Hey, he worked for the police didn't he? So why not appoint himself a few luxuries.

" May?" Roy frowned when he saw that the officer wasn't behind the front desk. That was unusual. It was one in the morning. She was always here at this time. Roy peaked into the halls. No one.

" The hell?"

" Yo."

Roy nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden voice that came from behind. He quickly turned around to shout at the bastard. But when his eyes met with two red orbs, nothing came out. The eyes belong two a red haired guy who looked no older then twenty. He was six two, and pale as chalk. Decked out in leather, he looked like a biker.

" Shh. Easy now," Biker guy spoke. And suddenly, Roy was calm as a cucumber. Which made no sense to the forensics scientist. He should be questioning this guy.

" Who are-" Roy stopped half way into the question for some unknown reason.

" You don't want to know that," Biker guy chuckled.

Yes. Of course, Roy thought. He couldn't break eye contact. Those eyes had to be fake. Colored contacts most likely. But something scratched in his mind that was saying otherwise.

" Your going to look up a name for me."

" Sure. Okay," Roy agreed without question. He took the red haired male to his lab. He logged on to his computer and was ready to search for whoever this stranger wanted of him.

" Name?"

" Claudia Peltier."

Roy did the search. A picture of a very beautiful raven haired woman appeared. Biker guy took a sharp intake of breath. He said something in a low hush, in a language Roy never heard before. It sounded like a mix of Italian, Arabic, and an Asian language.

" Where is she?"

Biker guy looked like he was bursting with anticipation. Roy looked back at the screen and ran over the file. He cleared his throat when he was done. The way he always did when delivering bad news.

" It says that she died. Six years ago. January 1st. She died of Frontotemporal dementia."

" Jesus Christ. . ." The red eyed stranger rubbed his face hard. He was trying to keep his shit together. Roy knew that look.

" It also say's her next of kin is her son."

Roy had never seen someone pause so abruptly and become statue- like, like the red haired male in front of him. His eyes were wide as saucers. No movement for a few minutes before he responded.

" What did you just say?" Roy rubbed his head as he wondered why exactly he was doing all this. Biker guy- with a speed that should be classified as unnatural- was in his face, looking him dead in the eyes.

" What did you say?" He asked again.

" She has a son. It also says she was married to one Eric Stilinski before she passed. He is the sheriff of Beacon hills-"

Roy blinked. He got up from his desk chair and looked around in confusion. He was in his lab, alone. When had he gotten down here? He was just at the front desk. Turning back to his computer screen he frowned at a file of a teenage boy. The boy himself looked no older than sixteen or seventeen.

" Stilinski . . .? Just who are you?"

" Stiles, what are you doing?" The sheriff asked his beloved son.

" Sniffing my hand dad, whats it look like?" Replied Stiles, taking another whiff. It wasn't every day you touch some paralytic goo left on a door handle by some reptile creature with a tail. For all he knew it could be the things sperm.

I really hope it's not sperm.

" You don't want to go to sleep?"

" I'm young dad I can do that when I'm old and decrepit."

" Hey! One day I will be old and probably decrepit."

" You mean your not now?"

Stiles laughed when his dad slapped him behind the head. The sheriff chuckled at his sons antics. He always had a retort just like his mother.

" Your doing it again," Stiles said with a sad smile. " Your thinking of mom."

" I can't remember a time I don't think about her." And Eric spoke truthfully. " But now that we're speaking about her, come on. I want to show you something.

The two went up into the attic, which both hadn't been in a long while. So it was to be expected that they saw that dark space was dusty.

Stiles eyes scanned over the old furniture and boxes left in there to age. Some of the stuff belong to him in his earlier years. The others belonged to his parents.

" Got it." His dad pulled out a medium sized rusty, old fashion tool box from underneath their old couch. It was black, and banged up. Like it was scavenged from a war torn country or something.

" What is this?"

" This is something your mother always kept since the day I met her." The box was opened to reveal a stack of envelopes. They were browned and slightly stained with age. Made Stiles wonder how old they were exactly.

" These belonged to mom?" His dad nodded.

" Everyone. I never read a letter. Not when we were together. Epically not after she passed."

" And you want me to?" Eric sat down on the old couch. Stiles followed suit. His dad looked to be deciding his words carefully. Stiles took the time to look at the envelops closely. There were about forty three. Each one old looking, with black wax sealed stamps that had a picture of skull with a sword through it.

" I told you before that your mother never liked to speak of her side of the family." Stiles looked at his dad. " Not once have I ever heard a story about them, seen a picture. . .Hell I don't even know is they are alive or not. And I respected that your mother didn't want to go into that part of her life."

" After she passed, I felt like you should no about the other half of your family. At least know a few names."

That's when Stiles understood. " You think these letters might tell me something."

"It's worth a shot at least." Eric got up from his seat, patting his son on the knee. " But you can do this tomorrow. You had a hard night, and should rest. Night son."

" Night dad," Stiles replied.

Only he didn't go to sleep. As soon as he was in his room he changed out of his clothes into his pajamas. He raided the kitchen for some snacks and drinks, locked his room door and placed everything on his desk. After slowly removing the rubber band that held the envelopes together, he popped open a bag of Doritos, and took out the first letter.

Stiles smiled at how neatly folded the paper was. His mom was always a neat freak. Handling the paper like a precious gem, he slowly unfolded it. The letter was long and written in a very fancy script. It was almost kind of like the way noble's wrote back in the 1800's. Thankfully Stiles thought himself how to read it.

Claudia,

I'm sorry I have not responded to you in quiet some time. Thing's back home are tense. I am still getting use to all of this. Learning the laws. Guiding the others. You always said I was too antisocial for my own good. And you right. But I'm here, and I am trying. Our father was much better at this. He had a face people loved.

Cael says hello. He misses you. I miss you.

Love, Your brother Rezar.

Stiles eyes widened in read the letter again just to be sure. If he wasn't misreading things, then that meant he had more family. His dad was right.

" I have an uncle."

" You have an uncle? On your mom's side?"

Stiles nodded tiredly at Scott. While the teen didn't like coffee, he could use one. The boring classes weren't helping his mission to stay awake.

He had spent the whole night reading through the letters. Trying to learn more about is long lost uncle. Emphasis on try. The letters were written in vaguety, that FBI agents would have troubles placing. Some of the things that Stiles was lost on, was the brief times his uncle talked about a throne. Which didn't make a lick of sense. Unless Stiles mother came from royalty. That was a huge stretch.

" Are you going to try to find him?" Asked Scott.

" Maybe. . .I don't know. I'm imagining all the scenarios on how this goes down, and they all come out with things being awkward. I mean, lets say I find him. What do we even talk about?"

" You could say, 'hi, my name is Stiles and I'm your long lost nephew. I love chocolate, comics, and Lydia Martin.'" Stiles glared at his best friend.

" Not funny. Your not the one dealing with this."

" Heck, I would trade your problems for mine any day." Power hungry alpha, girlfriends crazy hunter family, and now a new murderous creature in town. Yeah, Scott wasn't having it easy.

" So tell me about your boss." Before all this werewolf business started, Stiles thought Dr. Deaton was a pretty cool dude. He was nice, always listening to peoples problems, and bailed him and Scott out of a lot of problems. He was just too damn mysterious for Stiles taste.

" He thinks Alison's family keeps some kind of records of all the things they've hunted. Like a book."

Stiles clapped his hands as it hit him. " He probably means a bestiary." Scott looked at him funny.

" A what?"

" A bestiary." Scott smiled in amusement.

" I think you mean bestiality," the wolf chuckled. Stiles restrained from slapping his friend upside the head.

" Nope. Pretty sure I don't. It's an encyclopedia of mythical creatures."

" How is it I'm the only one who doesn't know about this stuff?"

" Your my friend, your a creature of the night, so it's kind of a priority of mine." Scott smiled briefly at that.

" So we find it, and it tells us what this thing is. . ."

" We need that book," they both said in unison. Stiles got up from his spot on the steps. Scott stopped him before he could leave.

" Oh, and dude. I need you to do me a favor."Stiles yawned, motioning for the wolf to continue.

"So me and Allison don't get caught. We need you to deliver messages-"

" Okay, let me stop you right there." He rubbed his tired eyes. " I honestly don't have the energy right now, and I'm 'bout to skip so I can go home and sleep." He turned and headed for the parking lot.

" But Stiles! I need to find out if she's coming to the game." The wolf whined.

" Figure it out!" He shouted to the wolf. " I'll be there later!"

His bed never looked more attractive then it did when he got home and went straight to his room. He took notice of the letters he left out all over his desk. Just leaving them there felt- in a way- disrespectful to his mothers memory. Stiles made sure to fold them back the way they were, and placed them gently back into each of their respective envelopes.

Stiles frowned when he opened the tool book. At the bottom of the inside there was a small, barley noticeable slit at the corner. It didn't fit the rest of the tool boxes beaten up appearance. The slit look carefully made. The teens curiosity was now piqued.

With a thumbtack from his handy dandy desk drawer, he inserted the point and pushed upwards. The bottom actually began to lift. Hidden compartment? He wondered.

When the false bottom was removed, Stiles was left staring at a ring and another envelope. A blood red skull on a black band, with a black elaborate design decorating the right temple and back. An engraving was on the inner side of the band.

It was his name.

His real name.

The envelope was next. The teen found another letter and a strange purple colored paper, with nothing on it. At first, Stiles thought the letter was written by his uncle. The handwriting was very similar. But knew otherwise when he saw his mothers name written on the back.

My sweet perfect baby boy,

I am sorry. Deeply. Deeply. Sorry.

I don't know when you will read this, so I don't know if I will be alive or not. If I'm not, then I have what I left you to explain it all. Put on the ring you find along side this letter. Then you will learn. About me. About my side of the family. About yourself. The other paper is key to learning all this as well.

You life will change so drastically from this point on. The world is going to look different. Things you believed, thing you thought were one way, won't be. You must find your uncle. He will guild you. He will help you. You can trust him above all else.

Be strong my warrior. I love you, and your father. Always and forever.

-Your mother, Claudia, daughter of Alexion.

" Mom. . ." His final gift from his mother. Stiles couldn't stop the tears from falling. His tired mind in a frenzy of emotion. But mostly he felt so confused. What did this all mean? Was Alexion is grandfathers name? Why did he need to find his uncle? How would he even do that?

He glanced at the ring in his hand.

" Then I will learn. . ." Suddenly the ring felt like it weighed a brick. In the back of his mind, Stiles decided. Taking a blind plunge into the unknown, he slipped the ring on. The moment it was secure on his middle finger, there was a sharp sting. Stiles hissed at the suddenness.

" The hell?" He tried to pull the ring off, but it wasn't moving. Not even an inch.

His heart started to pick up. A sudden sense of dread filled him. He pulled at the ring, but it just, wouldn't, move. The skull began to glow. Stiles body began to tingle. Breathing became labored. His heartbeat could be heard in his ears.

The rhythmic beating of his heart played in his ears as he fell to his knees. . . Then on his face. . .

And then, darkness.