Chapter Twenty-four: The Spider's Strength
Here the clairvoyant sat in her fortress of shadows basking in the results of her intervention with Stiles Stilinski only a few days ago, and now she had no doubt in her mind the future was set in stone.
She frowned lightly as a startling thought came across her mind, and she realized it wasn't even her own, but rather that of the teenage Cross Species she had been in contact with for the past few days. It wasn't directed at her, but of course she caught it because she was cursed with knowledge now. The teenager was afraid, and Madame Web raised her eyebrow lightly.
Was there a reason for his fear? His trepidation was from the multiple forces working against him, but was it really working against him, or was this just a way to turn him into the man the people he cared about needed him to be?
Yes, I know what I told Mieczyslaw Stilinski when we met, and I still stand by what I said. However, as many do not know death is only the beginning. When I told him he would die, it was because of a promise I had made to someone that cared very deeply for him and someone I knew once. She asked me to put him on the path that would be best for him, and I have completed that promise, all that remains is that Mieczyslaw will do the rest of the work.
Time is running out for Stiles Stilinski, and within a week, he will die.
Later that night
Where do I begin to explain what is going on in my mind currently... well it's honestly a mixture between horror and anger over the Identity Thief's actions, having killed Tracy just because she knew me, and that he threatened Lydia just for knowing me as well. I don't know if he knew I had a crush on her at one point or even at this point in time, I don't know, but that doesn't change the fact he threatened her life. I'm also feeling fear, debilitating fear at the thought that I will die at the hands of Norman Osborn and there is not a thing I can do to change it, and I don't even know when I'm going to die. All I know is my time is running out. What else, oh yeah... I'm also feeling depressed because I know that one of these times, that it's going to be the last time I see Lydia and all of my other friends. Sixteen years old and I'm almost out of time. That would be terrifying for anyone, but I'm just a kid, a kid with superhuman abilities. I mean, with all of my powers I can't do anything to save myself, and that's probably the most terrifying part.
It's hard to even think that I have to act like I'm not going to die soon, especially in front of my Dad, who I know when it happens will be in a worse spot than anybody else would be. Who would be there for Dad after I... after I'm gone?
So, what's the game plan then, what can I do that would make it to where dying is a little less painful, to know that I didn't die without leaving a legacy, of sorts?
Well on the less important things to deal with that aren't life threatening at the moment, I still have to get the money I need to pay off my jeep bill so Dad doesn't have to deal with that, especially if I'm gone when the time comes. There's something I've been thinking about that might help, but I'll have to see which comes first right now that I can go after.
As for the most important, life threatening situations I have to deal with (something I never thought I would ever have the life for this kind of thing...)
1. Laura Hale is currently trapped in Oscorp Tower being used as a guinea pig for the Lycan Project, just as Derek was back in 1995. With Lydia's help I just created the adhesive formula that I'm referring to as my web fluid, and with it I can help Derek rescue her. All I need to do now is develop some gadgets that'll disperse the fluid, like a web shooter I suppose you would call it. Once that happens Derek and I will infiltrate Oscorp Tower and rescue Laura. It'll have to be at night so there is less witnesses and resistance. At the same time I'm going to have to either have Derek or myself find and dispose of the camera footage showing me in the Spider Rotunda that held the X-95 in the Hempstead facility. Which means a level of extra stealth that only a spider could do. Yeah, why I figured Derek might be the one for this little objective I don't know, sometimes I like not having to do things, you know. Make the web shooters, make sure they work and figure out a plan to get inside Oscorp Tower and rescue Laura, easy-peasy lemon-squeezy.
2. The Identity Thief case, this is the one that has given me chills and nightmares the past couple nights. That's something I won't talk about is the fact I developed nightmares at the thought of what might happen if he isn't stopped. I think my nightmares are only going to get worse now that Tracy's dead. I have to talk to Carter, that's all there is to it, maybe there's something he can tell me that might tell me more about who the Identity Thief is, or at least something that might help me catch him. Now, the only thing that makes things twenty times worse for the situation is the fact that Derek's other sister, Cora Hale, is being held captive by the Identity Thief right now, and the fact is we don't even know if she's alive. Derek will swear she's alive, but I'm not too sure. She's been missing for months and the Identity Thief usually kills his victims within a month or two of captivity. Cora was taken because Derek got in the way of the Identity Thief without even knowing. He got in the way of the Identity Thief taking Erica, my ex-girlfriend. That added on with Cora being held hostage and Tracy being killed makes it the top of my list. If he goes after Lydia, Scott, Harry, or my Dad, I don't know what I might do to that freak... I'll make sure he suffers more than his victims did, I'll just say that.
3. Norman Osborn's sent somebody after me by the name of Shaw, something tells me he's not coming to have a friendly chat. I'll have to be careful.
What's a spider to do, huh?
Stiles said goodbye to Lydia after they were finished up, having had some time to chat about things, among them being how excited she was to be interning at Oscorp, and Stiles was surprised to hear that Jackson was the one who got her the internship. Stiles may have not liked Jackson for a long time, but the guy was actually turning his act around and becoming a good guy. Maybe it was just a phase that he was going through, who knows, but Stiles was actually starting to enjoy Jackson Whittemore's existence, and that alone was the scariest thing on the entire planet.
They were sitting there talking just about anything, and for the first time in a long time it felt like they were kids again, and their friendship had never stopped. It was just like old times, except for the fact Stiles wasn't as weird around Lydia, as his crush on her wasn't as difficult to deal with.
Once Stiles said goodbye to Lydia he went back upstairs to the lab where he wrote down the formula for the web fluid and already his mind was going to work to alter it for certain purposes. He would have to test it in the next couple days but he was busy for the mean time. All he needed was its base purpose of being able to act as a web to hold someone in place.
Stiles went to go shut the lab lights off when there was a knock on the wall, making him turn around to show that Derek was standing there in the doorway.
"Hey, I heard there was another murder, was it..." Derek's voice was filled with worry that it might have been Cora, and Stiles knew that feeling of fear, it was one he had every day his father went to work.
"No, it wasn't her... it was one of my classmates, Tracy Stewart. She's dead because of me." Stiles informed him coldly as he sat down in the chair looking at the wall, trying to avoid Derek's gaze.
"What do you mean she's dead because of you?" Derek asked as he stepped into the room, and Stiles took in a deep breath.
"The Identity Thief killed her because she knew me, and the reason he did it was to send a message to stay out of his way."
"So, he knows you're trying to find him, or because you were in his way over Erica."
"Who knows, but either way this just means I have to speed things up with the search. I know you're here about the evidence we got back at Cora's. The blood sample was a bust, we can't do anything about that... it was too contaminated to get anything out of it. The metal though I was able to get an address off of it. Turns out, the Identity Thief apparently used an old Oscorp Warehouse for a location... Warehouse 5-3B. It's over on Staten Island, so if you want to run over there we can take a look at it. If you can wait until in the morning we can go check it out with a little extra firepower." Stiles motioned to the web fluid he had created with Lydia's help. "I gotta make the devices as I said, but I can have it ready by morning. Maybe a little earlier than that if I stay up late."
"Do what you need to do, but it'd be better if we go now because if he's there, this might be our best chance at getting him now, or at least catching a trail."
"Speaking of trail, where did that scent lead?"
"Somewhere down in Hell's Kitchen, an old abandoned house. There was nothing there, I already looked." Derek replied, and Stiles nodded understanding. "He might have used that as a lookout building for some of the crime scenes considering how close they were."
"That's possible. Alright, I guess it can't wait, so we better get going." Stiles went out of the room and went for his room where he grabbed a red hoodie that he slipped on, and a dark leather jacket over it.
As he pulled his hood up, Stiles let all of his emotions fade away until he had a perfectly clear mind and then he went for the jeep.
Thunder rolled through the skies above Queens as Stiles got into the jeep and Derek stepped alongside of the driver's door.
"You go ahead, I'll catch up with you. I need to go do something first." Derek called out through the rain, to which Stiles nodded.
"I'll see you there. Just don't wait too long to get there, I don't want him to get away if he's there."
"Hey, you're a Cross Species... I'm sure you can stop him on your own," Derek smiled as Stiles raised an eyebrow.
"I feel like you're being sarcastic right now!"
"I am, you don't stand a chance without me, kid. Wait for me to arrive and follow my lead..."
"Alright."
Stiles rolled his window up and drove off, as Derek himself ran out of sight into the night.
"Look, I told you that I need this done, discreetly and quickly." Norman's voice echoed through the hallway as Harry stepped out of the bathroom. Harry raised his eyebrow as he had never heard his father use the word discreetly in the past seventeen years of his life. "Yes, I understand these things take time, especially given the danger that Subject Zero possesses. However, must I remind you the danger that Subject One will pose if he is not dealt with before his expiration date is met, and then we have to deal with the repercussions?! There's a lot more at stake than just having to deal with the subject's death."
Harry slowly stepped forward towards the study as Norman's voice became louder with every word. "Death?" he muttered to himself, confused as to what his father was speaking of.
"We can't have that happen, so you need to pick up the pace and fix this problem, tonight. We can't have another one of those situations. Do what you have to do, just get the job done... yes, green light Mr. Shaw."
Shaw? Isn't that the real shady dude that hangs around Oscorp Tower on the days I visit? Why would he be talking to Dad about some subject's death? Scratch that, who or what's the subject? It has to be a what, right? Dad wouldn't resort to murder, he's not a bad guy. Isn't he?
Harry stood in front of the doorway now as Norman turned to look at him, and the businessman with a sly smile shut the door on him. The teen stood there for a moment and then turned away heading to his room.
Norman stood in the study, silent as he possibly could while watching to see if Harry was gone before he spoke once more. "Stiles Stilinski must not live to see another day. He cannot become anymore of a problem than he is now. Subject One needs to be terminated."
"And Subject Zero?"
"Deal with him accordingly."
"It will be done, sir. Stilinski's headed onto Staten Island right now. It'll be done shortly."
"Good."
So, here I am, driving to some abandoned warehouse that Oscorp Industries hasn't used in literally two decades, in the middle of a thunderstorm, with so much going on in my mind it's almost impossible to think of all of them. I don't like to think that the world revolves around me, because in truth it doesn't. It doesn't revolve just around one person. Unless that person happens to be the sun, then that would actually be true, but since that is not a thing, that's off the table.
The drive is lonely, lonelier than I could have imagined. I don't know why, but the closer I get to where the Identity Thief might be, I feel this strange weight fall upon my chest and it's honestly confusing because I'm not afraid, I'm the opposite really. I don't know why, but I'm actually not afraid. I would be afraid normally, I mean, I've been afraid in all of my fights, or when I've encountered someone dangerous, I've been afraid, but now, I'm not. It might just be that I now have super powers to help me through them, who knows, but I'm not afraid. For the first time in my life, I'm not afraid... but I'm feeling something, and whatever it is, it's not like me. I'm almost afraid to find out what this is.
The loneliness is probably just causing me to have nerves about this, the what-if's circling around my head, and I block them out the best I can, but I'm drawn back to a single fact that was more surprising than anything... Jackson Whittemore had done a complete 180 on me, having gone from a jerk to nice out of nowhere. I know there's a reason for this, but it's not my place to ask, I guess I should just take this blessing while it lasts.
To think, Stiles Stilinski and Jackson Whittemore might actually become friends, there's something that could only happen in a comic book! I mean, that's as unrealistic as I could imagine, and that's coming from the guy who was bitten by a genetically altered spider and gained super powers straight out of a comic book.
Speaking of which, it was kind of strange that Jackson had taken a complete U-turn in his personality. I don't know what was going on with him, but maybe he was finally over that "frat boy" phase of his. Who knows, but I'm going to take it as a gift for what it's worth.
Maybe Jackson will reveal one day what made him suddenly start acting like a human being finally, but I'll be fine if he never says why. It's just a mystery I'll have to leave unanswered.
The way the city felt that night, it almost felt like the heavens themselves were crying that night as Lydia drove through the pouring rain towards her house following the rekindling of her friendship with Stiles, if whatever they had could be called that at this point. As much as Lydia hated to admit it, she wasn't sure if what she and Stiles had as kids could be called a friendship. She had hurt him, more than she would probably ever know at this point seeing as time and time again she showed him that their friendship meant nothing to her. He had pain in his voice when they spoke often enough during class, and while recently it might have had to do with Erica breaking up with him, originally it had been because she had been ignoring him far more than what she should have. Did she regret it, yes... could she take it back, no...
Lydia would try to do whatever she could to make their interactions a little less awkward, especially considering how she suddenly became all flabbergasted at the sight of him being shirtless. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen him shirtless, but then again back then they were kids... and now, to see him that way, so vastly different than he was as a kid, it was surreal. She didn't think it was real, because the last time she checked, Stiles Stilinski was not the person to have a six pack, at least not the way he had one. He must have used a magic lamp to get a genie to change his appearance that drastically, or maybe it was just the clothes that he wore that made him appear to be that skinny, not muscular in the way of a A-list movie star, but more so like he just had a runner's build, which for Stiles that made a lot more sense than anything because he just was that person to run. Stiles didn't fight, as Lydia recalled he was "147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone." and that sarcasm was his only defense. So, what was the cause of the sudden difference that was going on with Stiles? Lydia had no idea what was up with him, and she wasn't sure if she was just that ignorant, or if it really had come out of the blue.
She had been a bad friend to Stiles, and she wanted to change that. Today was a good step, but Lydia couldn't help but feel there was something else dwelling on Stiles' mind as he was working on that adhesive formula with her. He seemed distant, yet he was still so focused on the task at hand. What was going on with him?
She wouldn't press any further on anything because she didn't want to jeopardize the small strand of what could one day form a real friendship.
The thing was that Lydia knew that she had become a complete douchebag in between the years between when she left during the sixth grade and then came back at the beginning of last year. For her the transformation had been so natural she hadn't really noticed it all too much until Scott of all people pointed it out during Sarah Lincoln's party a few weeks ago. He had made it quite apparent as to how much she had changed, and had been rude to Stiles, who had considered her to be one of his best friends before she moved. Lydia didn't know what to say, and in all honesty she kept the facade going after that, but that's what it was. A facade... for the longest time it had been who she was, but that party was a reality check, one that she wasn't going to ever forget about.
See, when she had moved into the city and transferred to that all girls school, it had been a rather abrupt adjustment that she couldn't just ease into. Lydia was in a new place, and she knew nobody there, and while she was considered to be within the general area of unpopular, the most popular girl at school, Katelyn Mathers had seen something in her that Lydia herself couldn't. She took Lydia under her wing, teaching her literally everything there was to be the Lydia that she became in High School. Before she knew it, Lydia Martin was the most popular girl in all of Midtown High, and the one person she should have held onto throughout that little trip, she left him behind.
That wasn't going to be the case anymore, she hoped at least. Today was a good start, but it was just that, a start. A couple hours working on an adhesive formula and just talking didn't really qualify their status to be bumped up to friends already.
Arriving home, Lydia had a lot of things on her mind when she walked through the door, such as getting dry seeing as her clothes and hair were just completely soaked and of the all things she might have expected she most certainly did not expect to smell food. She thought it must have been her mother cooking dinner since she was in town currently, but when she looked up she found Jackson standing in the kitchen, cooking.
Um, what kind of dimension did I just travel to? Jackson Whittemore is cooking food... here at my place? I must be in an alternate dimension or something.
"Hey, you're home." Jackson smiled as he stirred the pot of what looked to be some sort of pasta dish of some kind. "I was wondering when you were going to get home. I'm just about done."
"Okay-" she said with that distinct tone of confusion that made Jackson smile a little bit. "I gotta say, you look so out of place in the kitchen, actually cooking."
"Well, I wanted to do something special, I'm not sure if it's good, because I've never cooked, and your mom helped me the best she could. I just hope I didn't ruin all this food for nothing."
"It smells great, Jackson." she tried to reassure him. "I'll be back out in a minute, I need to get changed into something dry."
"Alright, I'll have the food ready when you get back." he grinned brightly at her before she took off for the bedroom.
"So, how's Stilinski?" Jackson asked as they ate dinner, which was actually a lot better than what either of them expected. Lydia looked up at him with curiosity as to how he might have known that, but Jackson beat her to the question. "Your mom told me you went to go help Stiles out with something."
"Oh, uh... he's good, I guess. I don't really know if he's okay or anything anymore. We haven't been all that close in years... he wanted help with something his mom was working on before she passed away, an adhesive formula."
"Did you get it figured out?"
"Yeah, Stiles was overlooking a simple component of the formula. It was an easy fix but it took a lot of time to find it because we had to comb through the entire mixture all the way up to that point. But, um... speaking of Stiles, there's something I wanted to ask you. What's with this sudden change in you?"
Jackson looked up at her curiously, unsure of what she was talking about. "Hmm?"
"I'm not trying to say it's a bad thing, it's just... you were a lot different about a week ago, and suddenly you're a lot nicer than you normally are, like helping Stiles out with Flash the other day."
It was only then that he realized what she was referring to and he let out a long deep sigh, his eyes facing the plate in front of him. He laughed for a moment, and while Lydia might not have noticed it all too much, it was more of a depressed laugh if anything.
"Lyd, you know... my mom, Margaret, she's not my real mom. She's just my adopted mother. My-my real parents died before I was born. From what I've been told my mother was kept on life support long enough for him to be born. I spent so long thinking that Margaret, and her husband were my real parents, and when I found out the truth, I was just so angry. I rejected my father, and he died thinking I hated him. It's been eating at me for a long time, and I don't know, I guess I pushed that guilt away behind the fancy cars and the pompous jackass attitude I'm known for. When Margaret married Norman, I guess I was just used to the lifestyle and I became obsessed with becoming the heir to the Oscorp name." He put his fork down and held his forehead as if he had a headache coming on. "Harry and I, we were friends, good friends back then... I became so obsessed with the goal of being the heir of Oscorp that I didn't realize I irreversibly destroyed our friendship."
"Jackson," Lydia whispered, feeling sorry for what he must be feeling at that moment as he looked at her once more.
He had tears in his eyes now, as he cleared his throat. "I never had the chance to meet my real dad... I pushed away the only father I ever had... and Norman, he's the chance I have to finally fix things. I know there's something wrong with Norman, I can just see it in his face at night when he's in his study. He hides it behind a brick wall, but I can see it. He's sick, very sick... I don't want my step-dad to die thinking that I'm a... thinking that I'm a bad guy Lydia. I don't want him thinking I'm a spoiled, entitled brat who only cares about his good looks and his expensive cars... I don't want to be seen like that anymore. I, I've spent so long being Jackass Whittemore that I don't know how to be the guy I was when I was younger. I'm trying to make my way back there. When Flash was being a jerk the other day, I just kind of realized that this was the kind of crowd I was hanging out with... bullies, jerks, people who probably wouldn't make anything of themselves before it was too late. Danny's the only exception to the group, but I'm just tired of being seen as the bad guy. So, I stepped in. I figured, start with the guy I've given the most hell over the years and try to make amends. That's all I can really do, you know?"
Lydia reached across the table, grabbing Jackson's hand tenderly. "I'm sorry... and I'm glad you're working to be better. Who knows, maybe you and Harry can actually rebuild some sort of friendship again."
"Maybe," Jackson muttered lightly, smiling at her lightly. "I'm really lucky to have you in my life Lydia."
Lydia just smiled as both of their phones rang. As they pulled the devices out, the news that came with it shocked both of them. News about Tracy's death had just gotten out...
But yeah, it was a lonely drive and definitely gave me time to think. By the time I even reached the address for the Oscorp warehouse, I wasn't even in the right mindset to deal with a serial killer. I was too worried about everything that was going on in my life right at the moment and all I could do was just run my hands through my soaked hair, droplets of water hitting my face as I took in a deep breath. My heart was racing and it felt like I was going to get sick. Honestly, I didn't know if it was nerves or what, but as soon as I got out of the jeep upon arriving to the warehouse, I collapsed. I must have been having another seizure...
It's happening more frequently now, and I'm starting to wonder what the reason behind it is. It took a few minutes to come out of it, but once I did I was suddenly back on track, finally focusing on the Identity Thief, and what he had done to Tracy... and just like that, I could feel myself being taken over by my anger, and I wasn't going to let him get away if I laid eyes on him, with or without a web to catch him.
The only noise that could be heard in the street as Stiles stumbled to his feet was the rain hitting the ground, the windshield of the jeep... and he was almost scared by the fact that was the only noise he could hear. There were no cars driving, no music... no talking... just the sound of rain. Stiles stared at the warehouse and couldn't help but think of it as anything but abandoned. From the outside it just looked exactly that, abandoned, yet something in Stiles' gut told him the inside was anything but.
What could possibly go wrong? Stiles thought to himself as his body shook more uncontrollably, most likely the aftermath of his convulsions. He was not getting used to them, all he was doing was trying to not focus on them as much as he might have otherwise if he didn't have to worry about the Identity Thief and every other thing that he had on his plate right now. Stiles rubbed the back of his head, smoothing out his hood the best he could, his hair feeling awfully taut against the wet fabric.
He groaned internally as the sound of footsteps hitting the wet pavement behind him grew close, causing him to turn and found the Derek standing there with his eyes glowing icy blue, shining through the rain ominously.
"That's creepy as hell!" Stiles exclaimed, as Derek stepped up to him, in his usual creepy fashion that looked cool on footage, but in reality was intimidating.
"Well, I figured you might have sensed me if I tried to attack you like I planned." he joked, (at least Stiles hoped anyway) as his eyes went back to normal. The silence that fell upon them was awkward enough, but neither of them really paid much attention to it as they turned towards the warehouse, and Stiles felt that all too familiar buzzing in the back of his head.
The area around him turned dark blue, and the warehouse was shining bright red. "Yeah, something tells me he's in there."
"What makes you say that?" Derek asked curiously as Stiles's eyes turned pitch black just as it had when he left the crime scene where Tracy had been found.
"My spider sense has the place lit up like a Christmas tree in my vision. You might want to get your claws ready." he advised, heading towards the front door, but stopped just as he reached the handle. "You take the front, I'll use a less noticeable route."
"So, what am I? The tank?"
"Yeah, pretty much... you heal a lot faster than I do."
Derek growled lightly, as Stiles just smiled. "Don't worry, it's one guy we gotta worry about. Just don't get distracted."
"That's my line bug-boy."
"If anything I'm an arachnid, not a bug... now, just be ready." Stiles shook his head, before looking up at a window where he could enter through without drawing attention. He backed up against the jeep on the other side of the street, and took off running towards the warehouse. With one push, he went flying upwards, jumping straight to the window he was hoping to reach, and clung to the surface easily. The rain had no effect on his ability to wall crawl at least. Although, something told him if he tried to cling to a car, that might be a different story.
Stiles looked into the window, seeing the dark storage room inside, and without even thinking about the consequences of what his decision might be, he opened the window and crawled into the warehouse.
It was darker than he expected, he couldn't hardly see his own hand, let alone anything else. Stiles slowly slid down the wall using only his feet and one hand, letting his grip lessen. He landed silently on the floor, as Derek stepped into the warehouse beside him, nearly making the teenager jump out of fear.
"I can't hardly see anything in here."
"Stiles, do me a favor... and focus. Werewolves can see as a wolf... seeing through the dark a lot easier than humans can. Try to see if your sight can change to be that of a wolf, or werespider." Derek informed him, his voice filled with discomfort, obviously confused over how this Cross Species thing really worked, with all the Supernatural business mixed in with it. To be honest, Stiles had about as much of a problem understanding it as him, so he wasn't alone on the problem.
The teen nodded, focusing as hard as he could, waiting a few moments. He imagined switching his sight over to that of his other side... the animal side, but nothing happened. Stiles kept focusing for a few minutes, which probably from an outside view made him look rather constipated, as Derek tapped him on the arm.
"What are you doing?"
Stiles looked over at him with confusion, before saying with a shrug: "trying to change my sight like you said."
"I think you're doing it wrong, because you look like you're trying to go to the bathroom." Derek pointed out coldly, shaking his head as emphasis.
"Fine, I get the point. It's not going to work. Guess I'll have to figure something out to see in environments like this."
Derek looked at him for a moment before he remembered how Stiles had the same intellect that his mother had, so inventing something was right up his alley. The smell in the air caught his attention, and his stomach nearly lurched as he realized what that repugnant smell was. It was blood.
He grabbed Stiles, motioning him towards the source of the smell and eventually they reached a small room that was looked to be the area where C.I.A. operatives would torture people to get the information they need, but a lot bloodier.
On a table most likely used in surgeries, was layers of dried blood. Layers upon layers, upon layers. Derek's nose was burning at the scents as Stiles looked around. It was like they had stepped into the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or something a lot darker.
There were televisions with camera footage aiming at the table and countless other places in the warehouse. Stiles noticed that the camera's memory cards were full as he looked at each one and he found one next to a tv that was listed a long time ago... 2006. It was the same year that Camden Lahey was murdered.
Without even thinking about it he pressed play, and the tv started playing footage of a parking lot, one Stiles recognized almost immediately.
"That's Midtown High." he revealed, as Derek walked over and took a look at the tv. It showed Camden walking towards his car, and someone wearing a hood following him from behind. He had a crowbar in his hand, and when Camden heard him, the crowbar hit the back of the teenager's head, knocking him unconscious. The footage then zoomed in, as the hooded man beat Camden to a bloody pulp. Stiles felt his heart sink into the very pit of his stomach, knowing Camden died without being able to fight back.
The footage ended, and without warning every single television started playing footage of various people tied up, begging for help.
It was dozens of people...
Stiles felt his blood run cold as he saw the footage of all the females that had been taken captive and tortured... they had been here for weeks, months... crying out for help, and none came. He had killed more than just six people...
Derek was busy reading a notebook laying in a box beneath the televisions when he grabbed Stiles bringing him back to reality.
"Stiles, you might want to read this..." Derek whispered, shocked by what he had just read as he handed Stiles the notebook.
"What is this?"
"Just read it..."
There's a beauty in death you cannot possibly understand... if you find this, you will be the first to know that I am the one who killed Camden Lahey, and he won't be the last. You see, doctors have told me that due to a deep traumatic event in my past I could become unstable if I am, oh what's the word, triggered... Triggered means so many things, it's quite easy to misinterpret what the meaning of one particular event is.
You see, when I was triggered, I was not psychotic, as many might say I am for what I did to another human being. No, for once in my life I was set free and I could see the world as it was. In a way, I found my purpose. I was to cleanse this planet of people who didn't deserve to walk on it. Camden was the first... and while my next victims were not like Camden, they were still unfit to live. They weren't strong... they were afraid, scared little pests that needed to be dealt with accordingly. I thought that, at least... until I met her. I thought her to be weak... so insignificant that nobody would miss the girl who had seizures to the point where she would be out of school for days recovering. How she couldn't do the simplest things in physical education. I took her, and the one that supposedly loved her, her boyfriend, didn't know that something was wrong. If everything had gone the way it was supposed to, she would have just been considered an unfortunate loss and nobody would know the name... The Identity Thief. I had planned to kill her... but I wanted to make it very clear to her that she was going to die a slow, painful death just as she deserved. Publicly, to one person that has been investigating me, they believe that I am responsible for six deaths. He is wrong about that. I have killed dozens, bordering on triple digits. Nobody knew that I was killing these people because it was just ordinary stabbings. But, 56... she changed me. I thought I had broken her, and I turned my back for one moment, and she managed to escape. She was the one that got away... Erica Reyes got away.
And so, I looked for her. It took a long time, but I eventually found her, but Derek Hale, he got in the way... and so I found out who his precious sister was, dear old Cora. She was a tough one, but I got her subdued. She's alive, in case this is Derek reading this right now. Your precious sister is alive, for now. Remember your place and she lives.
But, if this is Stiles Stilinski reading this... I have one thing to tell you... you can't stop what I have planned with Erica. You wouldn't understand the half of it...
"Stiles, if this is right, he's more of a monster than either of us thought." Derek's voice shook as his eyes turned icy blue, not out of anger, but out of fear for his sister.
The back of Stiles' head buzzed rapidly like a machine gun, and he turned just in time to watch in slow motion as a bullet flew in front of his face, piercing the brick wall on the other side of the room.
"Well... well... well... look what the dog dragged in..." a menacing voice echoed throughout the room as Stiles looked at the source, and out of the shadows came a hooded man, covering his face just enough to show a wicked smile. "Stilinski... did you get my message?"
Stiles's eyes turned pitch black as it became clear to him that this man in front of him, was the Identity Thief.
Erica opened her eyes awaking from a nightmare, as she held the scar on her left arm. It was the same nightmare she had been having for the past month now, and all she could do was focus on her breathing so she didn't go into a seizure. As she recovered, Erica rose to her feet and noticed something in her window. Quickly moving over to her nightstand, she turned the light on so she could see what was in her window. Taped to the glass was a note, that read "I'll see you soon..."
Her chest tightened up in horror. It had to be him... it had to be him, The Identity Thief. He was coming for her, and she knew there was nothing she could do to escape him. If she told anybody...
She moved to her desk where she pulled out a few pieces of papers, addressing each paper to a different person, one of which was Stiles Stilinski.
Stiles wanted to do so many things to the Identity Thief right now, and the fact was he didn't know why he didn't just go at him right now. Maybe it was because he knew if he went after the Identity Thief right now, they most likely would never find Cora. That might have been it, or maybe it was because he was afraid of what he might do.
"So, you're him?" Stiles asked, coldly as the man just smiled beneath his hood.
"Depends on which him you're referring to... if it's The Identity Thief, then yes... I am him." he sneered at the teenager, not unlike someone Stiles knew, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
"Why did you kill Tracy?"
"Did you not even read the letter, kid? You got in my way... started investigating me. You figured out a lot more than anyone else has..."
"So, you're worried I'm close to finding out who you are, is that it?" Stiles asked, anger filling up inside him.
"If I was worried, you'd be dead right about now... you're too stupid to figure out who I am. You just don't realize it." The Identity Thief laughed lowly as Derek stepped forward. "Heel, wolfy. Don't forget, I'm the only person who knows where your little sister is. You do anything to me, you won't be able to see her alive ever again, and from what I understand, your family is running kind of low right now isn't it?"
Derek growled loudly as his eyes shined through the room. "I'm going to kill you."
"No, you're not..." the man remarked. "Now, kid... just listen to what I'm saying... I don't know how you figured out I used this for my work, but this is where it needs to end. I meant what I said... you come after me, and Lydia Martin will be the next to die. I know how you feel about her, so I suggest you do yourself and her a favor. Back off, before you end up mourning her."
Stiles couldn't handle having Lydia's name be mentioned as he launched forward, disappearing into the shadows, unable to be seen by the Identity Thief. Before the killer could react Stiles was upon him, grabbing him around the throat with his arm, putting him into a headlock.
"Don't you ever bring her into this! YOU HEAR ME?!" he roared, his voice full of murderous intent.
"Oh, trust me... I hear you."
Stiles' spider sense went off as the Identity Thief pulled a knife out, stabbing Stiles right in his leg, causing him to loosen his grip. The Identity Thief broke free, and grabbed Stiles by the hood, pulling him down. Stiles watched as the Identity Thief brought his knee up, smashing into his nose, breaking it. The teenager fell backwards onto the ground with blood seeping out of his nose as the Identity Thief pointed at Derek.
"You know, I learned a lot about your kind, Mr. Hale... and one of the things I learned is that you can track my scent. That's why I've figured out a way to block that. You are going to wait here with poor little Stiles until I leave, and until you know I am long gone, you are not going to step out of this building. I will know if you do, and if you do not listen to me, I will kill Cora. That is not a threat, it is a damn promise. So, you better follow that order like the obedient little dog you are."
The Identity Thief pulled the knife out of Stiles' leg and began walking away, only stopping for a moment to look at the teenager.
"I get it, Mr. Stilinski... I really do. I know you care deeply about Ms. Martin, and if you do as I ask, I won't lay a finger on her, however if you get in my way any further, I won't think twice to harm her."
"I'm going to find you, and when I do, you're going to pay for everything..." Stiles growled, as he set his nose back into place.
The Identity Thief nodded, understanding the teenager's threat, before pulling him up to his knees. "I doubt we'll see each other again..."
He punched Stiles in the mouth, splitting his lip open and knocked him to the floor before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Moments later the smell of bleach seeped into Derek's nose, telling him he had just covered his scent. Even then, that scent was faint when the Identity Thief was in the room with them. He just couldn't get a hold on it. Derek sighed as he rushed to Stiles' side...
"You alright?" Derek asked as he watched Stiles roll his eyes.
"Oh go chase a car..."
"Yup, you're alright."
Stiles had Derek help him to his feet as he wrapped his leg with bandages the werewolf had found in one of the shelves near the Identity Thief's torture room. The wound from the knife was stinging as he moved but he found it to be nowhere near as bad as what the wounds Derek had inflicted on him the other night had been.
"Derek, we need to get to Queens... he's going to be going after Erica."
"I know, I figured that one out on my own genius." the werewolf retorted as Stiles limped towards the doorway following him. "I can get there a lot faster than you can. He'd have to take a vehicle to get her, and while I hate to say it... you won't be able to keep up right now."
"I can keep up, I don't have to run... I can use other ways to get around." Stiles pointed out remarking to his wall crawling abilities but found Derek wasn't paying that much attention to him at the moment as he burst through that door, right as Stiles's spider sense went off again. "DEREK LOOK OUT!"
Without any time to react, Derek was thrown across the road upon being hit by a car. The car skidded to a halt, as Shaw stepped out of it, pointing a gun right at Stiles.
"Son of a..."
"Your time's up kid..." Shaw hissed as Stiles looked over at the unconscious werewolf laying against the sidewalk a good hundred feet away.
CAN I PLEASE GET ONE BREAK... PLEASE?!
Gunshots rang throughout the streets...
Lydia finished eating, unconsciously fiddling with her necklace as Jackson took her plate and took it to the sink. "You really like that necklace, don't you?" he asked her, giving a half-cough half-laugh along with the question.
"Yeah... I do." she responded with a minuscule smile, feeling its warmth in her hands. "I've had it since I was nine."
"Really? Why don't you ever wear a different one? I've bought you a couple and you never wear them."
She sighed for a moment, knowing he was going to ask that one way or another. "It, it's kind of silly really."
"How so?"
"It makes me feel safe... the person that made it for me, he made it for my ninth birthday. It was the first thing I ever received that wasn't expensive or cheap. He made it himself... and I felt it was a way to say that if I was ever alone, and scared... to remind myself that I wasn't alone, no matter what. Silly, I know."
"I don't think so, I think it's a nice sentiment to have." Jackson smirked at her, causing her to raise her eyebrows in surprise.
"Are you trying to use bigger words?"
"Well, I got a family that runs a big company, and my girlfriend is interning there. Bigger words would kind of help me feel like I'm not a complete idiot." he laughed before taking a look at the spider symbol that hung on her chain. "Who made it for you?"
"It, it was made by Stiles. It was back when he had that huge crush on me. I might not have felt the same way about him, I loved the gift anyway. We were actually pretty close back then, and..."
"Stiles made you feel safe."
"Yeah... I know it sounds weird considering how Stiles and I are now, but back then Stiles could make me feel safe, like there was no reason to worry about anything. If I was in pain he would always make me laugh, whether it was unintentional or not. He just, he just made it feel like the world wasn't a bad place."
"So, I get why you wore it back then, but why now?"
"It reminds me of what I messed up back when I moved... and when High School started. I didn't want to forget what I had back then."
Jackson eyed her suspiciously for a moment as he cleaned the table up, and lowered his head as a thought came across his mind.
"Lydia, could there be another reason as to why you wear it still?"
She was stunned by the question, unsure of what Jackson was trying to refer to there, as she adamantly shook her head. "No, there's not."
"Okay."
The strawberry blonde held the spider necklace in her hand as she felt this sudden rush of fear overwhelm her senses and for whatever reason she felt Stiles was in trouble.
Why would I think he's in trouble? she wondered, having forgotten what Stiles had said to her just a few hours ago.
"Well, I believed that you always knew when something was wrong with me when nobody else did, and I knew when something was wrong with you... how you always knew where to find me when you needed me."
Stiles held his arm as he hid behind a tall shelf in the warehouse looking at the bullet stuck in his bicep.
"Come on, kid... it's nothing personal! I was ordered to kill you. You're going to die anyway, let's just make it happen faster and less painful. It'll be one bullet to the brain. You won't feel a thing!" Shaw called out from the darkness as Stiles growled. He needed to find something to help him see Shaw, that way he could even the score. Superhuman abilities or not, Stiles was still at a disadvantage and he needed to change it, quickly.
"I'm sorry! I can't do that, I'm allergic to bullets, they ruin my complexion!" he hollered back at Shaw before running like the wind out of there, launching into the air for an aerial view, hoping that Shaw was unaware of his abilities.
"So, you're one of those kids with a sense of humor, huh? We'll see if you have one when I'm done with you."
Stiles rolled his eyes, crawling around on the walls trying to figure out what to do. Using his spider sense, he found where Shaw was moving around at, but he couldn't see the environment, only Shaw's silhouette. He needed to find a light switch, or something. Standing up (on the wall) Stiles was shocked that he was able to do so, and prompted to run as quickly as he could around the room, using his spider sense to hopefully find one.
Ring around the rosie... he thought to himself as he saw a glimpse of something golden in his sight on the very edge of the warehouse floor.
"Where the hell are you?!" Shaw growled as Stiles just smiled, launching off of the wall and rolled to his feet rushing through the rows of shelves towards what he hoped was a light switch. Upon reaching it, Stiles punched the switch to the point it broke. Lights turned on throughout the entire warehouse, and he happened to see Shaw step out from around a corner just as the lights came on.
"Right here..." Stiles growled, feeling his natural instincts kick in as he ran forward towards Shaw.
"So, you're suicidal?! Make up your mind!"
Shaw shot towards Stiles, the teenager using his Web Rush ability to dodge the bullets, rolling out of the way and such. His body was moving as quickly as it could, closing the distance between them.
Stiles slammed into Shaw, tackling him against one of the shelves, making the assassin drop his weapon. Shaw punched Stiles in the gut three times in a row in an effort to get him off, but Stiles was not moving.
The Cross Species was taking those punches without any thought to the pain he was experiencing as he brought his fist back and began pummeling him. Shaw reached for his pocket as Stiles' Spider Sense went off, making his eyes grow wide, launching onto the top of the shelf as Shaw brought out another gun.
"Two guns! Really?!" Stiles asked with that annoyed tone that Derek would normally use with him.
Shaw fired, as Stiles jumped down, racing towards the stairs with the assassin still firing towards him.
I hope that cliche about the dozens of bullets being fired and the hero never getting hit is real, because I NEED IT RIGHT ABOUT NOW!
He heard no more shots from the gun as Stiles climbed to the second floor, noticing metal chains hanging in front of him. Something told him to grab the chains as his Spider Sense went off again as he saw Shaw enter the warehouse again, with... it couldn't be.
"WHAT THE HELL?! WHERE DID YOU GET A ROCKET LAUNCHER?!" Stiles asked in horror as Shaw just smiled evilly towards him.
I need to finish this, now!
Shaw shot the rocket at Stiles as the teenager launched into the air, reaching out and grabbing a metal chain hanging above the warehouse floor. The rocket impacted with the ceiling as Stiles neared it, and the explosion engulfed him.
Shaw threw the rocket launcher to the ground as he watched in horror and disbelief as the teenager flew through the flames swinging straight towards him...
Down Stiles came, swinging from the chain, feet extended to kick him during his swing. Shaw couldn't move fast enough as Stiles connected his kick, pulling the chain off of the hoist as his kick sent Shaw flying through the warehouse, and through a wall right onto the hood of the assassin's car. Stiles landed with an emotionless face exiting the warehouse with the chain in hand as Shaw looked at him in fear.
"What... are... you..." he asked through pained breaths.
"I'm the teenager you couldn't beat." Stiles jerked his arm down, sending the chain flying into Shaw's neck, wrapping around it, pulling him to Stiles. Letting go of the chain Stiles grabbed Shaw and lifted him into the air.
"You realize that because you fought back, I'll be back, but instead of what you might expect, I'll bring your family, the ones you love into this. If I don't, Osborn will."
"Then send a message to Osborn for me. Tell him that I'm not going to die so easily. I don't know what he wants from me, but he's not going to get it. If he brings my friends and family into this, then I will make sure everyone knows the truth about him... and by the way, just in case you want to think about not telling him that..." Stiles held up his hand and pressed his palm against Shaw's face. "I imagine that because of my adhesive abilities, I can use it to burn your face. Do you want me to do that?"
"No, please god no..."
"So, are you going to tell him what I said?!" Stiles growled at him menacingly, as Shaw nodded with fear, before the teen smiled. "Thank you. Now, take a nap, sap." Stiles headbutted him, knocking him out as he heard a grunt behind him, seeing Derek coming to.
"St-Stiles!" Derek called realizing who must have hit him, and he looked fearful as he got to his feet, only to find Stiles holding the unconscious assassin with one hand. "What? You beat him?"
"Well, yeah... what else did you expect?" Stiles asked with a smile, in which the cuts on his face and his burned clothes showed the danger of the fight. "So, I'll see you later. Get to Erica's, make sure she's okay. Let me know if she's not."
"Will do. What are you going to do with him?" Derek asked motioning towards Shaw as the teen dropped him.
"Nothing. He's going to send a message to Norman Osborn for me. If he wants me, he can come and get me himself."
Stiles arrived at home just before three in the morning, drained from his fight with Shaw, and needing to deal with his wounds he snuck his way up to his lab where he peeled his bloodied shirt off, pulling his first aid kit out of the drawer and some tweezers to pull the bullets out of his body. He had never stitched himself up before, and something told him he was going to be in a world of hurt.
He leaned back in his chair as he grabbed the tweezers, reaching towards the bullet lodged in his arm, and took in a deep breath. While he did so, he looked at a picture on the desk, one of him and Lydia. It was the same photo that he had in his bedroom, and he made a promise that he wouldn't let Lydia get hurt because of the Identity Thief, or Norman Osborn. He would never let them touch a single hair on her body.
As he grabbed the bullet, he heard Madame Web's disembodied voice echo in the back of his mind...
Time is running out, Mieczyslaw.