Chapter 11: Nightmare on Beacon Street Part 1
Night fell before Melanie was finally clued in on what happened the two hours she was banished by Derek to her truck. As if she was really going to be stupid enough to go charging in on an Alpha! …Okay, sometimes her body worked before her brain, but she wouldn't be that crazy. Derek had left before Scott came out, his tires squealing as he raced out of the parking lot. Smoking tire tracks were left in his wake as well as the acrid scent of burnt rubber. She'd only caught him driving away, having laid down on the bench seat of her truck to stare at the ceiling, still thinking of ways to get Erica to talk to her.
Scott exited the building sometime later, rapping on her window, nearly scaring the piss out of her. When she rolled down her windows he told her to meet him and Stiles at the school; he had a plan and she needed to look after Derek. She left without needing to be told twice. Scott had a serious look on his face that she had only seen twice in her life; it shook her to her core every time. When the jovial puppy dog look was gone, things weren't good.
The parking lot of Beacon Hills High was scarcely lit up by street lamps. The shadows it created stretched and reached out across the asphalt. Sitting in the parking lot where a mountain lion was just shot and killed felt odd. Like she was calling out to all the spirits that would listen to wreak some sort of havoc on them. To finish the job. It sure felt like it, with the weight that pressed down on her shoulders. But she didn't have much time to think about it for Stiles' jeep pulled into the parking lot. She exited her car and approached Scott and Stiles as they climbed out.
"So…you want to try and face the Alpha with just a pair of bolt cutters?" Melanie asked, lifting her head to motion towards the tool in Stiles's hands. "What are you going to do, pierce his nose?"
"You have a better weapon of choice?" Stiles asked.
"This is all I have." She held up her handy dandy lacrosse stick. "It's better than yours! I at least get use out of it!" she protested towards the look of contempt that Stiles gave her. The sound of tires crushing asphalt broke through the still air. Derek's black Camaro swung into a parking spot. The trio walked over to the sleek black car as Derek got out.
"Where's my boss?" Scott demanded.
"He's in the back," Derek said, brushing off Scott's concern. They all looked through the windows to see that Dr. Deaton, indeed, was in the back of the car. Bound and gagged but he was back there. Melanie frowned at the sight of him. What the heck had gone on in the clinic? She mentally punched herself for staying put like she was told, for not going into at least see what Derek wanted with him. He was just the vet, the nice town vet that everyone liked! He didn't deserve to get beaten up like that, Alpha or no Alpha. Guilt soured her stomach and, now, she wished she'd listened to her mother and kept that first aid kit of herbal creams and solvents in her glove box. That cut looked bad.
"He looks comfortable," Stiles muttered.
"Will he be okay?" Melanie asked. Her soft voice was swallowed in the large parking lot.
Derek cut a glance at her. She swallowed beneath his stern gaze. "He'll be fine," he grunted. Scott nudged Stiles and the two walked towards the school. "Hey! What are you doing?" Derek demanded.
Scott looked over his shoulder. "You said I was linked with the alpha. I'm gonna see if you're right."
Derek didn't move to stop him. His jaw clenched, making it much more sharp and angular than before. One could sharped a knife over such a chiseled jawline. Rubbing a hand against her mouth, Melanie checked to be sure she wasn't drooling. That'd be embarrassing.
Melanie shoved her hands into her pockets and pulled her jean jacket tighter around her. Despite wearing it over another hooded jacket it didn't keep the cold out. She bent her knees and bounced on her toes as she waited. The gentle tip-taps of the rubber of her soles punctuated the dark air. Derek stood still, staring at the building. He could've blended into the darkness. She licked her lower lip. "How are you not cold?" she asked Derek.
His lips parted; a blast of his exhaled breath curled in the cool night air. "Higher core temperature."
"Ah, right," Melanie replied. As if that made all the difference in the world. Must be some werewolf thing. Melanie started pacing around, anything to keep her body temperature up. She was used to the cold, having moved from Canada years ago, but still, something about the cold in Beacon Hills had a lingering, bone-seeping, unsettling cling. She waited by Stiles's jeep, feeling safer standing in the light of the street lamp than she did in the shadows; after all, monsters lurked in the dark.
Without a word, Derek moved to her side, leaning against the jeep as well. Melanie lifted her eyebrows, silently inviting some sort of comment. Derek didn't take the bait and she got nothing in return. Figures.
Silence stretched on between them, the only other sound being the rustling of leaves of the nearby trees. The light breeze caressed her skin and left a slight sting in its wake. Every now and then she shifted her stance, from back pressed against the jeep with her legs stretched out so far in front of her she almost slouched horizontally to standing up stick straight, waiting. Her eyes roamed over the school, concentrating on the still academics on the other side. She closed her eyes, mentally mapping out the hallways of the school. It swung in front of her, from left to right in a head-whipping, color smearing rush: up the stairs, woosh, English to the right, woosh, math and science to the left, woosh, straight down the hall to the main office.
A lump rose in her throat as a sense of urgency and dread settled down on her chest, pressing, squeezing, crushing. Her breaths came out quicker, more ragged, as if she were the one running through the halls. The thump-thump-thump of rapid footsteps careened off the floors and lockers, colliding in mid-air. Her heart raced, her legs trembled, and a sheen of sweat broke out onto her cold skin.
Violet seeped into the edge of her vision and a rush of adrenaline coursed through her. Her breaths grew heavy and guttural, almost like a growl, her heart thrummed in her ears, and the scene around her—once the school hallways and now...a parking lot?—surged past her in a blur. The violet shifted over to red and the red completely took over her vision, swooping from side to side, pausing at a glass reflection of a large, hulking beast—
"Melanie!" Her eyes flew open as her body shuddered in a loud gasp, drawing in as much air as he lungs could take. She swallowed thickly, still gasping for air. Derek loomed over her, his eyes searching her face. Behind him the cloud-dotted inky black sky stared back at her, as wide and dark as her fear-blown pupils. The sleeve of her jacket scraped against the ground as she moved to sit up. Her eyebrows furrowed as her racing mind managed to pin down a thought; when did she hit the ground?
"Derek," she rasped, scrambling to get to her feet. Her shaky legs didn't cooperate; she leaned against the jeep in an effort to stay up, regretting all those times she laughed at Bambi when he tried to stand on ice. The gritty asphalt beneath her feet may as well be her own personal ice patch. Derek could at least help her up, Melanie briefly thought, but pushed it away a second later. Help didn't seem to be his forte. She grasped her fallen lacrosse stick, using it to bear her shaky weight until she fully stood. "What happened?"
"You seized," he said.
She blinked, shook her head, as if trying to get the two words to settle into place. Her brain moved too fast, riding on adrenaline still coursing through her. "What?" Whatever, didn't matter. All the questions she'd wanted to ask Derek swam in her head and danced on her tongue, vying to be the first asked. "Listen, Derek...i just...i need to know...about werewolves. You're one. Right?" Derek pushed a breath out of her nose, reminding her of a dragon. She would've laughed if confusion didn't have a stronghold on her. "So you can help. I...what happens when—?"
Derek moved to speak again, his mouth opened, and—the worst sound she had ever heard in her entire life reached her ears. It bounced off the brick of the school and punctuated the ink black sky. Derek's mouth snapped shut and he squeezed his eyes tight, a painful expression settling on his face.
"He's gotta be kidding me," Derek muttered. Melanie pressed her cheek to the cool glass of the back window. Her legs stopped shaking. Was...was that Scott or a dying animal?
The next howl, however, was much more powerful, much more guttural. Familiar. She stepped away from the jeep as the last strains of the howl faded in the distance. A heavy, unshakeable dread crawled slowly down her spine.
"I'm gonna kill both of you. What the hell was that?" he demanded once Scott and Stiles came back out of the school. It was almost as if she blinked and here they were. Their pride deflated before Melanie's eyes at Derek's harsh tone. "What are you trying to do? Attract the entire state to this school?"
"Sorry, I didn't know it would be that loud," Scott replied, awe still attached to his words.
"Yeah, it was loud. And it was awesome," Stiles sang.
"Shut up," Derek snapped.
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a sour wolf."
Scott's attention strayed from the conversation to the car behind him and Derek. "What'd you do with him?" he asked, taking a step forward. Melanie's eyebrows crinkled together. She whirled around and saw…nothing. The backseat was empty. Her heart dropped. Dr. Deaton was gone. How was that possible? They were standing right there! Not the whole time. She sucked in a breath at her intruding thought. She did wake up on the ground, after that scary...vision or whatever it was that she saw. And if Derek was distracted by her, that meant Deaton could escape. Or...something could have grabbed Deaton.
"What?" Derek murmured and then turned around himself. "I didn't do anything," he insisted after seeing the back door ajar.
"And what's wrong with you?" Stiles asked, turning to Melanie. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Melanie's breath trembled. "Guys—" Her word was cut off and replaced with a scream as Derek staggered forward, uttering a groan of pain. Something warm and stick splattered against Melanie's face and landed on her tongue. The urge to wipe her face was overruled by her stiffening muscles and her eyes widening at the sight of Derek; blood dripped out of his mouth while he was lifted up into the air. Stiles lurched forward, grabbed Melanie's arm and yanked her to his side.
It was then that she saw it. Saw the Alpha, standing in his grotesque glory, his claw sunk into Derek's back. Screaming again she, Stiles, and Scott took off up the front lawn and towards the school doors. Melanie skidded to a stop when she heard the crunching thud of a body hitting the brick wall and turned in time to see Derek's lifeless body on the ground. "Derek!" she yelled, starting for him.
"Melanie, no!" Scott grabbed onto the hood of her shirt and pulled her into the school. He and Stiles scrambled to hold the door shut as she fell backwards onto her ass. All three ducking down beneath the windows.
"We have to get him!" Melanie insisted, trying to get back to her feet. She pushed her way between the two boys. "He's hurt!"
"So will we if we go out there!" Stiles hissed amidst Scott yelling at him to lock the doors. Shifting the object of his attention he demanded to know, "Do I look like I have a key?"
"Well find something!" Scott replied.
"What?"
"Anything!"
Stiles stopped moving for a second and then he stood up straight to look out the window. Melanie crouched between the two of them, trembling as she held onto her lacrosse stick. This couldn't actually be happening, could it? She vaguely sensed Scott standing near her. Images flashed through her mind: the parking lot, the school hallway, their cars, Deaton in the backseat, the Alpha in fast succession, like a movie reel, faster and faster. Those eyes were red, so red, like she'd seen in her dreams. And he stood tall, scraping the night sky, it's growl drowning out her wildly thumping heart. Her shoulders lowered from her ears and the trembling hold on her body eased. A tiny smile, so minuscule, cracked at the corner of her mouth hidden beneath the shadows dotting her face.
Sound crashed around her, the door flinging open, Scott banging on the door, the grunts and growls of the Alpha, and the door swinging shut. Melanie rolled out of the way, pressing her back against a bank of lockers, eyes sweeping Stiles's panting form for an injury.
"I'm no genius," Melanie said, "but I don't think that'll hold him." She jerked her chin towards the bolt cutters shoved between the two push handles. No, nothing flimsy would hold something like the Alpha back. Something so strong. So powerful...
"Probably not," Stiles agreed. He held out his hands and pulled Melanie to her feet. The three huddled together as they backed away from the door. The beam to Stiles's flashlight bounced erratically around the hall as it wobbled in his hand. She winced at the harsh glare. Was it always that bright? She didn't remember her eyes becoming so sensitive.
Then came the howl. Melanie wasn't sure how she heard it past the thumping of her heart in her ears but she did. She felt it all the way down to her bones. It shook her like going down a fast drop on a roller-coaster. They didn't wait long to see where it came from, running through the dark halls. What made school what it was in the daylight turned it into a nightmare now. The clock faces become demons from hell, taunting them as they sprinted by. Shadows of materials used in classrooms reached out and clawed at their heels, stretching to take them down. Light bounced off of locker handles, shining likes eyes, spying on them, an audience for their horror show.
The burst into the first classroom they found with an open door. Melanie backed up towards the windows as Stiles and Scott pushed a desk over to block the door. That is until Stiles stopped them, reminding them that it wouldn't keep the alpha out and then jumped onto the theory that the alpha was Dr. Deaton. Scott still denied the fact and Melanie jumped to his side. It couldn't be Dr. Deaton. Not that sweet man. He could never hurt an injured animal, why would he hurt one of them? Innocent people?
Melanie made a beeline for the window, squinting at her reflection. Her blood-splattered reflection. Letting out a low moan of disgust, she hastily wiped at her face, smearing the blood and sweat clinging to her skin. Friction burned beneath the sleeve to her jacket and she stilled as her eyes swept the parking lot. The empty parking lot. Her jaw stiffened. Maybe that was their chance. Get to their cars and get away and hope that, if by some miracle Derek was still alive, he could get away too. And they'd have a story to tell. But wait… Melanie rubbed her arm over the glass, wiping away the condensation that she had just breathed onto it.
"Uhh…Stiles," she called out, her eyes trained on the mangled and ripped hood of his jeep. "You're going to want to see this!" Stiles and Scott ran over to the window and she pointed.
"Stiles, what the hell happened to your jeep?" Scott asked.
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong," he said, his voice hitching with worry.
"It's bent!"
"Like dented!?" Stiles inquired, shoving his way between him and Melanie.
"No, I-I mean bent!" Scott stated. Melanie pressed her nose against the glass. There it was, plain as day. She couldn't tell what was actually wrong with it but she knew enough about cars to know that it wasn't supposed to bend that way.
"What the hell—?"
Stiles unfinished question was cut off by a resounding crash. Something flew past her face, scratching her skin. Melanie screamed and lifted her arms over her head, ducking. The weight of Scott and Stiles atop of her protected her body from projectile glass shards. As soon as the noise started it stopped, even the tinkling of the glass on the floor. Melanie's chest heaved and her lungs burned in an effort to pull air in around Stiles' and Scott's thick jacket sleeves covered her face. Lowering her arms she pushed them away and peered across the dark room at the object lying across from them on the floor, illuminated underneath the beam of Stiles' flashlight.
"That's my battery!" Stiles groaned, almost as if he took the damage to his car personally. Not that Melanie blamed him, if anything touched her car she'd be pissed too. Stiles moved against her side and she grabbed his arm. "We have to move!" he hissed.
"He could be right outside!" Scott pointed out.
"He is right outside!" Stiles shot back. Melanie did her best to get her breathing back to normal, wondering why they were so hell-bent on giving away their position by popping up like teenage whack-a-moles.
"Just let me take a look," Scott pleaded. Melanie felt Scott inch up towards the window.
"Anything?" she asked. She gently touched her face, hissing at the sting of her finger touching a cut.
"No."
"Move now?" Stiles suggested.
"Move now," Scott replied.
Their hands gripped her elbows and guided her to her feet. Their shoes crunched against the glass shards as they scurried to the door and slipped out into the hall. Stiles held his flashlight out in front of them, directing the beam this way and that. But Melanie didn't need the extra light. She could see everything plainly, as if it someone had turned up a dimmer switch a few notches. If anything the extra light hurt her eyes, throwing a strange glare in her face. She held a hand up, shielding her eyes, allowing herself to concentrate enough to hear Stiles mention they needed to find a place with less windows.
Melanie's brain rocketed to find an answer. Bathrooms? There wasn't many places they could hide there and there were windows. Stairwell? No, there was a wall of windows there too. What place would logically not have windows? Her fingers drummed on the shaft of her lacrosse stick. There was the boiler room; not many students new how to get there but she'd always had a map of the school in her head since she caught a peek of it to know what doors to lock for school sanctioned events. Her shoulders sagged when it hit her that, even if they could get down there without being seen, they'd still need a key. Which was locked in the principal's office.
"Locker rooms," Scott suggested.
They ran down the halls, taking the familiar path to the locker rooms and burst into the boys' section. Melanie would have preferred the girls to the boys, it didn't smell like death, but with two boys for companions it was only natural that they would head there first. Besides, despite what Fred and the Scooby gang suggested, it probably wasn't best to split up and search for clues. She switched her breathing from her nose to her mouth to try and filter out the male stench. It was potent during the day and it was worse at night long after practice was over. A strange concoction of stale sweat and sweet shampoo. She tensed her stomach to keep from dry heaving.
"Call your dad," Melanie urged once they were inside. She brought her free arm up to her nose to inhale the scent of her fabric softener. Oh how she loved the scent of Snuggle. She made a mental note to write them a very pleased letter.
"Why don't you call your dad?"
"My phone's outside! And my dad's not the Sheriff! Call him!"
"And tell him what?" Stiles demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.
"Anything!" Scott said "Gas leak, a fire, whatever. If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it'll take off."
"What if it doesn't? What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight? Including my dad?" Stiles demanded.
"They have guns."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane-laced bullet to even slow him down, you remember that?"
"Well, well, can't we just run?" Melanie asked. "I mean, that's what they always told us, right? About the lockdown drills? Our options. First is hide. Then it's run. Then it's fight. I don't think any of us can stand up next to The Hulk but hiding doesn't seem to be working either. Fight or flight. In this case, I say fight." Snorting, she added, "My name kind of makes that easy."
"There's nothing near the school for at least a mile," Stiles pointed out. "And that's for an active shooter."
"An active werewolf doesn't measure up to you?"
"I'm just saying—"
"Guys, focus!" Scott hissed, stopping them mid-argument. "Let's just...get to the cars. We can take Derek's car. It's still outside. Or your truck." He turned to Melanie. "There's more space in your truck."
"Uhh..." she blanched as she patted her pockets. "That would be a good idea...if my keys weren't...in my truck." Stiles huffed and threw his arms into the air. She shot him a look. "Hey, at least mine still works!"
"At fat load of good that does us," he muttered. "Okay, Derek's car it is. We go outside, we get the keys off his body, and then we take his car," Stiles plotted.
"And him," Scott said firmly.
Stiles shot him an exasperated look. "Fine," he agreed curtly. "Whatever." Excited that they finally had a plan, Stiles turned to leave. His hand had just grazed the door handle when Scott stopped him by grabbing onto his arm. "What?" Stiles whispered.
Scott swallowed. "I think I heard something," he whispered back.
"Like what?" Stiles hissed.
"Ssh, quiet!" Scott shushed him. Melanie held her breath as she listened. She swallowed, briefly stopping her heavy breathing and strained to hear again. Then she heard it. Something scraping against the floor. She reached out and pinched the backs of Stiles and Scott's jackets as best as she could with her stick in the way and pulled them away from the door. Scott reached over and pushed down Stiles's hand, blocking the beam of light so whatever that was on the other side of the door wouldn't see it. "Hide!" Scott's whispered order shot out of his mouth like a bullet.
Stiles then frantically scrambled with the locker door nearest him and jumped inside. Scott and Melanie found their own lockers and stuffed themselves in. It was the one time in Melanie's life she was glad that she was small enough to fit in a tight space comfortably. But then she cursed it in the next breath when she came face to face with a forgotten jock strap.
"Sick!" she gasped. Her tongue dropped out of her mouth to mirror her disgust and she quickly pulled it back in to keep herself from licking the disgusting piece of fabric. She was too short to peer out of the slits in the metal properly so she kept a hand over her mouth and nose to try and muffle her breathing. Time slowed. The door handle creaked. The lock snapped as the sound of a swinging door filled the locker room. The door closed. Steady footsteps slowly came up the aisle. Step. Step. Step. Step. Melanie could count the beats. They fell into a perfect rhythm. Then they stopped.
A door flung open. A cocophany of screams and hissing shushes made Melanie roll her eyes in her locker. Boys! Never let them do a woman's job! With a resigned sigh, she slipped out of her locker, flinching at the beam of light Stiles shot back in her face. She braced her palm against the cool metal and blinked, a flash of the swift moving hallway passed through her vision, soaked in red, before disappearing. She sucked in a breath.
"Quiet my ass!" The janitor barked, grabbing his bearings. "The hell are you trying to do, kill me?" His rhetorical question was left unanswered as his eyes bounced between the three of them. "What are you even doing here this late? All of you get out."
"Will you just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles tried but his pleas fell on deaf ears as the janitor grabbed Melanie's shoulder and pushed her towards the door.
"Not okay. Get the hell out of here right now," the janitor ordered. "Especially you," he added to Melanie, "girls aren't allowed in here." He grabbed Scott and Stiles and pushed all three of them outside of the locker room door and back into the school's hallway.
"God, just one second to explain!" Stiles pleaded.
"Just shut up and go," the janitor snapped, jabbing his finger down the hall to direct them.
Melanie felt more than saw the janitor being yanked off his feet behind her. Wind brushed past her cheek right as the locker room door slammed shut. His screams shot down the hall and in the next second the silhouette of his body appeared on the other side of the smoky glass before he crashed into the door. Blood smeared on the glass where his fingers dragged against the smooth surface, trying to get a grip on something in his desperate bid to escape. He slid out of sight and bashed against the glass again. The sounds made Melanie back up and bump into Stiles who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. She buried her face into the side of his chest and tried to block out the sound of his screams but it was already rattling around in her skull.
Dropping his arm, Stiles grabbed onto Melanie's hand and then lunged towards the door for Scott. She spied more blood smeared against the glass. There was no way the janitor could have survived that attack. The realization hit her like a brick, made her stomach turn and she had to swallow hard to keep the puke from bursting out of her mouth. Stiles managed to pry Scott off the door and they all ran down the hall, Stiles keeping a tight hold on Melanie's hand the entire way.
They didn't stop running until they reached a set of double doors…and promptly crashed into them. Stiles and Scott tried in vain to push past it but they held fast. "What the hell?" Stiles gasped. Scott pushed his door open enough to make room to stick his head through and see what it was.
"It's a dumpster," Scott reported.
"He pushed it in front of the door to block us in," Stiles realized. He tucked his shoulder and tried to shove the door open once, twice, three times. Nothing happened. "Come on, help me," he urged.
"Hello! We have a werewolf with us!" Melanie cried out, slapping Scott on the arm. "C'mon, Scott, go wolf on us and use your strength to open the door!"
"Stop, that won't work!" Scott replied, grabbing Stiles and pulled him away from the door. The only place the group could go now was back the way they came.
"I'm not dying here," Stiles said firmly as they marched down the hall, "I'm not dying at school."
"We're not going to die," Melanie told him, wringing her hands along the shaft of her stick. They couldn't die. Not like this. Not when she couldn't tell Erica she was sorry. Not wihtout talking to Erica one more time. "What the fuck does this thing want?" she demanded to know, throwing her arms in the air. She quickly apologized when she noticed that she had almost whacked Stiles across the head with it.
"Me!" Scott cried out. "Derek says it's stronger with a pack."
"So why isn't it chasing after Derek? He could be a part of its pack," Melanie pointed out.
"Y'know, besides the fact that he's dead," Stiles jumped in.
"May be dead."
"The Alpha didn't bite him, he bit me," Scott replied. "It only wants who he bit."
"Oh, great. A psychotic werewolf who's into teen work. That's - that's beautiful," Stiles said sarcastically.
"So…what, it wants to bite Stiles and me too?" Melanie asked. "Take us all in one fell swoop?" Her question didn't get a response. She then noticed the cold on either side of her. That Scott and Stiles weren't flanking her anymore. She walked back over to them to see them standing stock still and looking out the widow. "What is it?" she asked quietly. Her gaze followed theirs out the window and her eyes locked with the glowing red ones of The Alpha, perched upon the rooftop. "Oh come on!" she cried out. In the exact same moment The Alpha started running across the rooftop, towards them. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she chanted as they took off again.
The window smashed behind them and she felt the ground tremble beneath her feet as The Alpha got inside. He growled and gnashed his jaws before taking off after them. Melanie felt like she was flying as she ran with the boys. She pumped her arms and legs and ran faster, faster, faster than she'd ever run before. She barely broke a sweat and she wondered just how exactly it was possible she was running so fast. But then, at one point she swore she felt The Alpha's hot breath on the back of her neck, and the inquiry dissipated faster than it came. Her feet barely touched the floor as she sprinted behind the two boys, flying across the linoleum. She yelped when she almost missed the door that Scott burst through but Stiles reached back and grabbed her to yank her through.
They practically jumped down the flight of stairs they came across, moving further down into the heart of the school to get away from the monster. Melanie's skin was covered in a light layer of sweat and heat radiated from beneath her two jackets but despite the discomfort she didn't stop running. It was either be uncomfortable for a few minutes for however longer or be dead. She'd rather be uncomfortable.
They burst through another door and sprinted down yet another hall and ran through another doorway until they made it to another set of lockers. These were dingy and rusty and dented. They pressed their backs against them, trying to catch their breaths as the growls of The Alpha sounded nearby. They tried running again only to find their path blocked by the quick Alpha.
"All right, we have to do something," Stiles reasoned.
"Like what?" Scott and Melanie demanded in unison.
"I don't know. Kill it, hurt it, inflict mental anguish on it. Something." He looked at Melanie. "C'mon, Miss Encyclopedia. Don't know you how to kill a werewolf?"
"Do I look like I have silver on me?" Melanie shot back. "Or wolfsbane? Or fire? I may be an expert on them but I'm not MacGyver!"
The Alpha growled again, somewhere to their right. Melanie scooted closer to Stiles, bumping into his side, feeling his keys dig into her. Stiles then reached into his pocket and pulled them out.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked.
Stiles didn't reply. Instead he curled his fingers around his keys, shushing Scott all the while, and stared off in the distance where The Alpha's shadow had appeared on the wall. Leaning forward, Stiles threw the keys and then turned, wrapping his arms around Scott's and Melanie's necks to backtrack them and pull them out of harm's way. The ground thudded with The Alpha's heavy footsteps falling in the opposite direction. Stiles, being the ever brave man he is, lunged forward and slammed the door shut of the room that the Alpha had run into.
"The desk. Come on, the desk," Stiles yelled, motioning to it as he held the door closed with his back. Melanie and Scott crouched behind the desk and pushed it until it covered the door, blocking The Alpha's escape.
Melanie covered her ears as the Alpha screamed out at them, trying to push the door open. It made her stomach drop, much like the effects of a twang of a bass line. She slowly uncovered her ears and a smile blossomed on her face. They couldn't make this shit up! She flashed a thumbs up in Stiles's direction, not trusting her vocal chords to work with her just yet.
"Come on, get across. Come on!" The urgency in Stiles's voice wasn't lost on them. Scott urged Melanie to go first as Stiles held out his hand. She accepted it and he pulled her across the top of the desk as she scrambled over. He gave her hand a squeeze, as if to reassure her that she was okay. As if her beating heart couldn't do that for her. Scott then scrambled across the top of the desk next and turned to see Stiles starting to climb on top.
Melanie grabbed onto his pants leg in a futile attempt to hold him back. "Have you completely lost your mind?" she demanded to know as he tried to swat her away.
"What are you doing?" Scott hissed.
"I just wanna get a look at it," Stiles replied.
"Are you crazy?"
"Look, it's trapped, okay? It's not gonna get out," Stiles reassured him. But Melanie wasn't so sure. He got on his knees and looked through the window using his flashlight to light up the otherwise of the darkened room. "Yeah, that's right, we got you."
"Will you shut up!"
"I'm not scared of this thing!" Stiles told Scott. He turned back to the window, licking his lips. He then fell off the table when the hand of The Alpha smashed against the glass, surprising him. This time Melanie looped her arm through his and held him back before he thought about getting back up on the desk. Though maybe half of thier troubles would be fixed if she just let Stiles stay in the hole he kept digging for them. "I'm not scared of you. Right, 'cause you're in there, and we're out here. You're not going any—"
The sound of creaking metal and falling materials cut him off and made them all freeze. Melanie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she didn't hear what she thought she heard and slowly tilted her head back. She then slowly opened her eyes, the brief blur cleared up as the ceiling tiles started to buckle in succession.
The Alpha was in the ceiling!
"Fuck, Stiles!" Melanie cried out, turning and sprinted out of the room. "You just had to go and taunt it!"
"Stop nagging and keep running!" Stiles shouted back as they ran around the bottom floor of the school. Melanie didn't dare look up at the ceiling to see if the creature was following them. She didn't want to know. She kept her legs moving.
Fight or flight. Fight or flight. They'd been doing a lot of flying. Deep inside her, she knew, at some point they'd have to fight back.
Somehow.
a/n: this chapter is more or less to set up the next one but there are some hints in here surrounding Melanie and a few not-so-normal things about her. Did you catch them? Please read and review!
**Revised 9/27/20**
