Ya hear him howlin' around your kitchen door
Ya better not let him in
Little old lady got mutilated late last night
Werewolves of London again
- Werewolves of London, Warren Zevon
Part 2 - Intrusion
Karen blinked her eyes open as she was jostled, and found herself being pulled onto a stretcher by a couple of paramedics. One noticed her awake and grabbed her hand.
"Hey, hey, you're okay, we're getting you out of here."
"Wha…What happened?" She asked, her voice dry. Pain shot down her left side as she spoke.
"Some psycho attacked the school, a few kids made it out too."
Karen frowned, but closed her eyes as they led her out of the school. When she opened her eyes again, they were walking towards the car park, now busy with the activity of police. The blue jeep still sat there, but the black Camaro was gone. As they approached the waiting ambulance, Karen noticed Alan Deaton, the local veterinarian, being tended to. He gave her a weak smile, and then turned to speak to Scott and Stiles. She felt a wave of relief as she saw the boys safe and sound, and her gaze fell on a couple more teenagers being spoken to by uniformed officers. Before she could push herself up on her elbows, a firm hand pushed her down.
"It's okay, just relax."
"But is everyone okay?" She insisted, her voice sounding panicked.
"Everyone's fine." Came another voice, and Karen turned her head, hissing in pain, to look at the Sheriff. He gave her a warm smile, eyes weary, and grabbed her hand.
He briefly glanced at the paramedics.
"5 minutes." They said, and then they climbed into the ambulance.
"How are you feeling?" Asked the sheriff.
Karen went to shrug, but felt another twinge and instead said "I don't know, shaken up."
The sheriff asked a couple basic questions, why she was at the school so late, what happened. She gave him a hazy account of what she could remember, leaving out the monster that she couldn't quite explain to herself.
The man nodded, and glanced over at somebody. "Did you see who attacked you?"
Her mind flashed to red eyes, and she gulped. "N-no, I didn't see anybody."
"Okay." He flipped his notebook closed. "If you remember anything, anything at all, you let us know. Derek Hale won't be able to run forever."
"Who?"
"Derek Hale, my boy Stiles, and Scott McCall, they've pegged him as the psycho who did this."
Karen hummed in thought. The paramedics came back and pulled her into the ambulance. Karen glanced at the vet sitting beside her as the ambulance left the school.
"Alan, what are you doing here?"
He smiled. "Derek kidnapped me. I think he would have killed me, if it hadn't been for Scott. How are you feeling?"
Karen just grimaced, and the man nodded in understanding. She felt his eyes on her neck, and then he quickly bowed his head, silent for the rest of the journey.
Scott and Stiles visited Karen during her first day in hospital. They had both come in with hesitant smiles on their faces, to which Karen gave her own.
"What are you boys doing here?" she asked, propping herself up on her pillows.
They didn't answer at first, and Scott's eyes lingered on the bandage on her neck.
"Well, I'm glad you came. After we…got separated…" Her throat tightened, " I was worried about what happened to you two."
"Aw, about little old us?" Stiles grabbed an apple, sitting on her untouched lunch tray, and threw it up in the air a couple of times.
Scott rolled his eyes at his friend, and stood to the side. "We heard you scream…We weren't sure…"
Karen forced another weak smile. "I guess this Derek guy underestimated me."
The pair exchanged a look, but said nothing.
"What happened to you guys?" she asked.
"Oh, uh…" Scott nervously ran his fingers through his hair, "We holed up in a classroom, and we got to Stiles' dad. Nothing big."
"What about the other kids? Lydia, Allison and Jackson? I saw them in the car park but I wasn't sure why…"
Stiles put the apple down, and jumped up from his position leaning on the bedside table.
"They looking for Scott and I."
Karen pursed her lips. "Right, and what were you two doing there? I heard that nonsense on the PA. Don't think you're out of detention just because some murderer decided to show up."
Stiles looked horrified. "Come on!"
"Don't take that tone with me."
A nurse knocked on the door, peering in. "Sorry to interrupt, but my shift is ending and I need to drive these two home."
Scott nodded. "Alright Mum, we're coming."
Melissa McCall smiled and rummaged through the handbag for her keys as the boys both looked at Karen one last time.
"See you at school, Miss Bellamy?"
The teacher nodded.
"Let us know if you need anything." Scott said, and before she could ask what he meant, her room was empty.
Karen was sent home two days later, more than ready to enjoy a relaxing weekend curled up in front of the TV with her stash of chocolate. Her small childhood home had been left to her by her parents, who had left Beacon Hills years ago to enjoy the beaches of Australia. The walls were covered in family pictures, Karen's favorite was of her graduation. She wasn't looking at the photographer, but she had a wide grin pointed at her mother. They shared the same auburn locks, although her mum's was starting to show silver, but Karen's chocolate brown eyes had come from her father. His arm was around her shoulder on the other side, her proud parents framing her. Karen's fingers traced over the picture frame as she stepped through the door. She dropped her keys in the little tray by the door and made her way to the bedroom, scattering clothes as she went. She quickly pulled on a pair of track pants and a loose tank top, ready for her day of leisure.
Karen awoke with a start, and looked around bleary eyed. She had fallen asleep on the couch, TV still murmuring. She brushed a couple of chocolate wrappers off of her lap, and dragged a hand through her hair in an attempt to tame the tangled auburn locks.
There was a thud, and a creak.
Karen froze and looked around the dark room in alarm, eyes focusing on the light leaking out from the kitchen. She slowly stood and groped blindly for a weapon. Her hand clasped around something hard and plastic. The floorboards creaked slightly as she walked up to the kitchen, spying a dark figure next to the window. She jumped into the room, her weapon raised and ready to strike, with what she hoped was a menacing shout.
The man stood to his full height and turned to face her. She numbly took in the muscled frame beneath the tight navy t-shirt and dark jeans. His jaw was sharp and clenched, covered in stubble, and his lips pulled up into a smirk as his eyes fell just above her head.
To the remote control gripped in her hand.
Karen flinched as he reached out and plucked the object from her hand. He flipped it over in his hands, examining the controller, and then looked back at Karen.
"Really?" he mocked.
Karen stepped to the side, putting her kitchen bench in between them, her hands trembling.
"Wh-who are you?" She whimpered.
The man stepped forward, leaning on the counter, letting the controller slide towards her. His expression was stern as he met her eyes, looking for something.
"What happened to you at the school?" he asked.
Before she realized she was doing it, her hand was at her neck, patting down the taped edges of her bandage. She quickly put her hand down, and replaced her scared and confused expression with a fierce glare.
"I asked who you were. What the fuck are you doing in my kitchen?" her voice sounded slightly hysterical as she stumbled over the curse.
She heard something splinter, and the man glanced down at her hands where they had been gripping the counter. She followed his gaze, finding her nails – claws – were digging into the hard pine.
"Wha…" She backed up, staring at her hands, flipping them over as the claws retracted. Her back hit a wall with a dull thud. The man in her kitchen said nothing, but swiftly crossed the room and pulled the bandage from her neck. Karen didn't have time to process the emotions that flitted across his face, but just as suddenly as he had approached her, he was at the window.
"Don't go anywhere." He said, glancing briefly back at her, and then he was gone, sliding out the window with practiced ease.
Karen put her hand at her neck again, carefully probing for her wound, and finding only her soft, unmarred flesh.