A/N: This story begins in the first episode of Season 4 of Teen Wolf.
There will be some Spanish in the story; I will translate most of it. If there is no translation then it probably isn't relevant. Also, "mi hija" will come up often so I'll just say here that it translates literally to "my daughter". It is also used as
a term of 'endearment' though not for just biological daughters. Think of it kinda like "sweetheart." Kinda. Someone would only use it to refer to women younger than them.
Also, imagine the main character/OC as Alessia Cara.
Monday, March 19th, 2006 [Age 10]
"Repeat after me: Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent."
"Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent," replied a young girl as she fiddled around in her seat. Her small hands were folded on her lap tightly. She tried her best to sit still even though it was difficult for the little bundle of energy.
"And what does that mean?" asked the older woman.
"We hunt those who hunt us."
"Good. I want you to engrave that phrase into your memory. It is the most important thing that you will learn as a hunter." The girl nodded in response and hesitated to speak.
"I have a question, Araya," she said after having an internal battle with herself.
"And what is that?" questioned the older woman.
"Does that mean that we can hunt humans too if they hunt us? Or does the code only apply to werewolves and other creatures like them?"
"The code is meant to be for the beasts that we are trained to kill; but know that if a human were to ever become a threat to our own life or that of one of our fellow hunters, we would kill them without hesitation as well."
"So it's a survival of the fittest?"
"In the simplest terms, yes."
"Just like out in the streets," said the girl as she looked out the window with melancholy gripping her heart.
Friday, December 28, 2011
"Severo hates this music. Me? I've always loved the music of youth; this kind especially. It has a savage energy." Araya Calavera, the leader of the Calaveras, sat as she sewed a piece of cloth. Sewing had always been a therapeutic hobby for her; a way
of keeping her aggression in check. Across from her sat Lydia Martin and Stiles Stilinski.
"We're here for Derek Hale," stated Lydia.
"Is that so?" was Araya's response. To her right stood Severo; he was Araya's most trusted follower and her second in command. Everyone in the Calaveras knew that he would follow Araya to hell and back and most of them respected him for it. On her left,
stood a young woman. She appeared to be no older than Lydia and Stiles. Her hands were folded behind her back as she stared intently at the two guests ready to attack if needed. Araya trusted this girl as much as she trusted Severo, if not more, but
it was a different kind of trust. She was not just a simple follower, though she was also a Calavera; she was more of a daughter to Araya since she had raised her since she was ten.
"We know you have him," said Lydia. "We've heard you can be bought."
The girl whose name was Gabriella could easily see the anxiety that Lydia and Stiles felt. She didn't need any supernatural sense of smell to notice that. Though, she didn't blame them. Araya was an intimidating woman. Her stare could make you quake in
your boots. Even Gabriella, having seen her more caring side, knew that Araya was a woman to be feared, even if she appeared to be a frail, old woman.
Stiles pulled out stacks of American dollars, placing them on the table.
"It's 50,000 for Derek," said Stiles. Stiles looked at the girl to Araya's left, wondering why such a young person would be there—not just with the Calaveras but also in the room with them. Her eyes had been locked on him when he turned his head to look
at her so the eye contact that came was inevitable. Stiles' breath caught in his throat when their eyes met; they weren't a striking color, being hazel, but they held a fire in them that struck fear in his heart. She seemed fierce and dangerous; she
had the eyes of a hunter watching its prey. Stiles felt compelled to immediately look away and brought his line of vision back to Araya.
"Where does a teenage boy get money like this? Japanese Mafia?" asked Araya with a smile. The two guests looked to their right as they heard the cocking of a gun. They saw a woman who looked ready to shoot them on command. Gabriella held back the desire
to roll her eyes at this. She never liked that woman; she was much too trigger happy for Gabriella's own taste.
They looked to their right as they heard the cocking of another gun. Gabriella grew ready to reach for her own gun if she needed too; she knew that there was no need for her to pull it out yet since she preferred not to use any firearms.
"Not smart to come alone," said Araya.
"What makes you think we came alone?" asked Stiles with a sudden burst of confidence that Gabriella was not expecting. She wanted to smile at this. She liked this sudden shift in the jittery boy; she thought that the look of confidence he now wore looked
attractive on him.
Gabriella readied herself to fight as she felt the sudden shift in Araya's demeanor from relaxed to tense. Araya quickly stood up from her seat.
"You brought a wolf into my home?" questioned Araya.
"We brought an Alpha," responded Stiles.
Araya turned her back on the two guests, walking slowly toward the mirrors. Gabriella glanced over briefly, but immediately brought her vision back to the two teenagers. She knew that she needed to keep watching them so that she could pounce when she
needed to.
"My friends," said Araya sighing, "I don't think you're aware of your poor timing. Do you know what the dark moon is?"
"The part of the lunar phase when the moon is least visible in the sky," replied Lydia.
"But do you know its meaning?"
"Some people say it's a time of reflection; or grief."
"Grief and loss, mi hija. I wonder why, when you and your friends have suffered so much loss, you would risk it again for someone like Derek Hale."
"'Cause we don't like to lose," said Stiles.
"Nadie en la piscina," spoke a voice over the radio. [No one in the pool]
"Front door clear."
"South clear."
"North?" inquired Severo. "Norte? Donde esta norte? Norte? A donde esta norte?" [North? Where is north? North? Where is north?]
"Stiles," spoke a new voice through the radio. Gabriella assumed that this must be the famed Scott McCall, the true alpha of Beacon Hills. "Take ten off the table." Stiles did as he was told.
"Maybe you should just take the deal," suggested Lydia. Araya lets out a small laugh. "While I am keen to follow the warning of a banshee, I'm going to have to decline."
"I have to admit. I don't have much experience with banshees," began Araya. Gabriella was leaning against a pillar quite a few feet away. She didn't feel the need to stay so close to her at the moment because she had three other guards protecting her
and because she could tell that Lydia was not strong enough to be a threat.
"That makes two of us since I don't have much experience being one," said Lydia.
Gabriella let her shoulders relax. She may have been on the job, but she knew that she didn't need to be so on guard at the moment. She was still on edge of course; always at the ready to attack—as she was taught.
"I have a feeling you underestimate your abilities Lydia," said Araya.
Gabriella let her eyes wander about the landscape before her. This place made her feel weary and contented; weary because her life in Tepexpan, Mexico, was not an easy one. It was a life filled with violence and a fight for survival. Regardless of all
that, however, the nostalgia she felt from watching the scenery before her filled her with nostalgia—a feeling that made her feel like her past had been much better than it actually was. And she hated that nostalgia because she knew that things were
never that good.
"Trust me; you'd have better luck with tarot cards." Lydia.
Gabriella's eyes followed a group of children as they ran and laughed. They were kicking around an old, worn out ball. She could tell that is was a soccer ball, or at least it once was; it was so worn out that it no longer appeared to be one. Pieces of
it were coming off of the sides and Gabriella felt a brief feeling of sympathy pass through her as she thought about how happy these children were to be playing with such a dilapidated toy.
"Let's find out. Tell me: which of these men is about to die?" Araya.
Gabriella thought back to her childhood and how she didn't have any toys or even any other children to play with. She was the strangest child amongst the rest and so they cast her out to survive on her own. She did not mind it much however. She realized
that she would have had no energy to spare playing regardless; the little energy that she did have, she had to conserve to survive.
"How does it work? Do you need to touch them? Maybe I give you something they own. Or is it just a feeling?" Araya.
Gabriella thought these children were lucky; and she was glad that they still retained their innocence. Although, she knew too well that that would not last much longer. In a place like the one she lived in, there was too much violence to be able to be
oblivious to it for too long.
"I told you; I don't know." Lydia.
And Gabriella knew that the reason this province was as brutal as it was, was because the Calaveras had made this their base of operations. Gabriella was grateful to the Calaveras for having taken her in. She knew that had they not, she probably would
not still be alive. However, that did not make her blind to their ways. She knew that they were greatly involved in the province's crime. She understood the power that they held.
"How close to death do they have to be?" asked Araya.
Gabriella's eyes instantly drew away from the scene before her. Her senses felt heightened; she could feel that something was about to happen. She turned her head over slightly toward Araya so that she could see the older woman with the corner of her
eye. She did not flinch when Araya sent the knife that she had been holding in her hand toward one of the male guards that had been standing to her right.
"What did you do that for?" exclaimed Lydia. Gabriella felt a longing for Lydia's innocence. She wished, for a moment, that she could have been as appalled by this death as the banshee was. She wished that she were not as desensitized to violence as she
was raised to be.
"He stole from me." Gabriella's eyes sparkled with mirth at the comment; she knew that thievery was one of the things that Araya despised the most. To this day, Gabriella was amazed that she had gotten away with attempting to steal from Araya before;
even if she was only a child at the time.
"What do you want?" pleaded Lydia with grief coating her eyes.
"Right now? I want to know about Scott McCall. I want to know what kind of alpha he really is."
"So you're just letting us go?" questioned Scott skeptically.
"I sent four men out to where Kate was rumored to have been seen; none of them came back. Let's see if you can do better," responded Araya.
"You could've just told me she was alive."
"You wouldn't have believed me. Now I know what kind of alpha you are, and where your next step lies."
"What next step?"
"When you take the bite of an innocent, when you make a wolf of your own, when you do that, then I will cross your border and come knocking at your door."
"How would you even know if I did?" inquired Scott.
"Don't worry, lobito. I will have eyes watching you when you go back to Beacon Hills; the eyes of a very special huntress." [little wolf]
