Nothing eventful happened as they set up the stereo system and carefully hung the decorations (an assortment of ghouls, zombies, vampires and witches) and the dry ice machine. Before too long they were getting into the holiday spirit with a CD of twisted Halloween "carols" like 'Deck the Halls with Parts of Charlie', and 'We Wish You'd Bury the Missus'. Derek rolled his eyes at the graphic lyrics as Stiles bounced around the grand ballroom making sure everything was perfect.

"Derek, how come we don't have a grand ballroom?" Stiles asked.

"Because the Pack doesn't care about that stuff, and I hate everyone else." answered Derek as he mixed an enormous amount of blood-red punch in a huge bowl.

"Oh." Stiles finished up checking the decorations and party 'surprises' (a bunch of supposedly scary tricks, gags and special effects for the Pack to experience as they wandered through the house). Everyone would be given a list of scavenger hunt items to locate, searching one pair at a time until everyone had gone. He could listen in to what was going on elsewhere in the house through a bunch of baby monitors tied into the main console by the stereo. With the push of a button, he could switch from music to a specific room when someone tripped one of the gags and hopefully hear them scream in fright while everyone else laughed. Stiles really wanted people to go by themselves, but Derek would have none of it. Everyone was to be accompanied at all times, or the Alpha would chase them out of the house himself.

"I'm going to look for a bathroom." Stiles announced, yawning.

"You want me to come with?" Derek asked.

"Ewwww, gross. Let's leave some mystery in our relationship. I don't want you to find out I can pee champagne and poop emeralds."

He walked through the double doors, the wooden floor creaking under his feet. As soon as he was out of view, the creaking stopped. Derek listened, his ears developing points as he strained his hearing for the sound of his mate. Nothing. No footsteps, no heartbeat, no breathing.

Derek's own heart began to race faster. He seemed to hear the house speaking to him on some deep level; not with his ears, the words appeared directly in his mind like a memory.

'See how easily I could take him away from you? There is nothing you could do about it. They could tear this place apart brick by brick to no avail. In fact, none of them will leave here alive, not even the ones whose bodies I leave behind. I could claim him…he would be trapped here, for ages and ages to come, screaming where no ears could hear him, wondering why you abandoned him-'

"STILES!" roared Derek. His shirt split along the back as he tore through the house. The moment he left the ballroom, he began to hear the sounds of running water, and Stiles' tunelessly whistling as he washed his hands down the hall. Stiles opened the bathroom door.

"Yeah, Der?" he asked. Suddenly noticing that Derek was more than half shifted into his Alpha form, Stiles stepped back with his hands in the air. "Whoa! What gives? Save the scary stuff for tomorrow night!"

Derek was so relieved to see his mate unharmed that he shifted back immediately and grabbed Stiles in his arms squeezing him tightly enough to crack the ribs in a human.

"ACK! DEREK, WHAT IS GOING-"

Derek released him, cold chills running down his back and sweat pouring from his face.

"When you left, I didn't hear you. Sty, it was like you vanished off the face of the earth. And then I heard this voice…"

"You heard VOICES?" Stiles' eyebrows climbed into his hair.

"No, not a real voice, just something in my head. Look, I'm sorry. I must have been imagining things."

"Well, was I right? This is one creepy old place." Stiles walked back to the ballroom, leaving Derek standing there, feeling something he felt very rarely…helplessness.

If what just happened were real and not the first signs of madness…then this house already had him figured out pretty good. Derek would rip the throat out of the Boogeyman himself if he had to, and not blink. But Stiles…not being able to protect him, or having to see him hurt and unable to do anything about it…that was his Achilles heel. It could end him. He vowed never to let Stiles out of his sight again, no matter how many emeralds he could poop.

A huge crashing noise came from the kitchen, and Derek and Stiles quickly raced through the house to see what new horror the haunted mansion had in store for them.

{}{}{}{}

Danny walked with Ted through the enormous grounds surrounding the mansion. Though the driveway was a wreck, the rest of the property was overgrown but intact. They found greenhouses gone wild, orchards of exotic trees that still held their leaves even at this time of the year, even topiaries and hedge mazes and what looked like the grandmother of all gazebos. They decided to avoid the hedge maze given their familiarity with certain of Jack Nicholson's early movies and merely walked the various path ways and exclaiming over the various finds they discovered. It began to get dark before they thought of heading back to the house, which was now a small point in the distance behind them. Their final destination was a small waterfall that took the colors of the setting sun and transformed them into a dazzling array of rainbows. The place was breathtaking, and although they knew they should get back, they decided to take a few moments and enjoy the scenery while they could…or at least enjoy each other in the scenery. They stripped and dived into the small pool under the heavy cascade, and after they adjusted to the temperature, they splashed and frolicked until they began to get tired. Danny flopped down on the grass while Ted fell down next to him and they examined the stars in the bruise colored sky.

Ted wrinkled his forehead in puzzlement. "That's funny."

"What's funny?" asked Danny.

"The stars. They're…wrong."

"How are stars 'wrong'?"

"The constellations are different. I've been an astronomy geek for years, and what we are seeing now is impossible." Ted tried to sit up, but Danny pulled him roughly back down.

"Screw the stars. Or screw me instead."

"You are insatiable, you know that?"

"Who even uses that word, 'insatiable'? You sound like a college professor."

"That's because mine said the same thing to me." Ted said with a smile.

"You had sex with your college professor? Slut."

"He was hot, and I was a freshman. He still gave me a B- in his class, but an A+ in the sack."

Danny made ralphing sounds, though he knew that it was all bullshit from Ted's heartbeat. Ted wasn't that kind of guy, though Danny wouldn't judge him if he were.

Still…"Well, if you're trying to make me jealous, it's working." Danny let a soft growl come into his voice.

"Imagine, someone jealous over me. I never thought I'd see the day."

Danny growled for real at Ted's words. "Ted, you're freaking hot, I don't know how you can't see it."

"Dan, we've had this conversation before. I know you think so, and I'm grateful you do and hope you never get that dirt out of your eyes that makes you see me that way, but I just don't share that opinion. I don't care anyway though, cause I'm not in love with me, I'm in love with you."

Danny rolled his eyes, choosing not to pursue the matter. Ted's low self-esteem (completely unwarranted) was a result of his family's rejection and criticism of him his whole life. He came out of his shell a little bit when he started dating Danny, but the way he walked on eggshells around the other Pack members and even cleaned up after Derek and Stiles all the time made him the unofficial Omega of the group. No one took advantage of that, thank God, and Derek floored Danny by showing his appreciation for Ted's help in so many ways…but it bothered Danny that Ted felt he would be abandoned the moment he stopped being useful.

Danny opened his mouth to respond when the two boys heard a deep rumbling growl coming from the trees. They both jumped to their feet and quickly pulled their clothes back on. They started backing away from whatever enormous creature was lurking in the trees; the rotting meat smell was the only scent they could pick up from it. An identical growl came from behind them, in the direction of the house. This creature was visible to them with their enhanced vision; an enormous rotting dog that could probably make the Hound of the Baskervilles its bitch was lumbering slowly towards them. Its twin came from the woods, and Danny and Ted took off running as fast as they could. They poured on the speed, shifting into the Beta form without thought. The hounds chased them, capable of speed their previous lumbering gait a ruse to fool the unwary. The two Betas raced neck-in-neck, unaware they were being herded towards a particular spot in the woods where the solid ground gave way to a pool of quicksand that already had enough bodies in it to qualify as a mass grave.

A high cold laugh echoed in their minds. "Soon I will have two new hounds!"

They were twenty feet away from the quicksand, the zombie hounds in close pursuit when Ted suddenly stopped and turned, whirling to face the pursuers with a deep rumbling growl, fangs bared and claws out. Danny continued on another ten feet before he could stop himself and return to his mate's side.

"Go on Dan, back to the house! Find Derek and the others and get the hell out of here!"

"No way, Teddy. You make a stand here, I'm with you!" Danny braced himself for the attack.

"Like Derek taught us, that maneuver for rogue Alphas! These are slower than Derek would be, so it should be way easier! We take one each!"

Danny nodded. "Ted…no matter what happens…"

"I know. Me too."

The zombie hounds charged, and Ted and Danny raced towards them as well. The hounds tried to slow down, seemingly surprised that their prey was running towards them. At the same instant, the two Betas slid as if they were heading for home plate, passing between the front paws of the dogs and sliding quickly under their stomachs. Both boys raised one clawed hand and raked open the soft almost liquidy flesh to be rewarded with a shower of foul semi-solid innards. As soon as they were through to the other side, they came smoothly to their feet and leapt so that they landed square on the backs of the rotting canines. They grabbed the massive heads in their clawed hands and savagely twisted them around, the surprised yelps from the hounds sounding almost puppy-like. The bodies quickly devolved into mud that smelled of putrefaction, and the Betas gained their feet and looked at each other, too pumped on adrenalin to speak.

Then, a short distance into the woods, the ground seemed to bubble like soup in a cauldron. The shell-shocked werewolves saw a human form beginning to rise out of the ground, the mud falling away to reveal the grinning face of a skull. A few strands of what was once long hair clung to the scalp, and the thing seemed to be wearing the remains of some kind of dress.

'My hounds…claim my hounds!' The voice spoke in their minds, all the more horrible because there was no escaping it. Rotting innards poured out of the skeleton after the mud had sloughed away, and the smell was unbearable. It reached its bony arms towards them and struggled to pull its legs from the foul pool.

Ted said simply: "Um, okay, I'm done. Dan? Let's go please!" Dan needed no further encouragement. They raced back to the house not looking back and were just running past a large window when a huge door-less refrigerator came crashing through it.

{}{}{}{}

Scott and Allison explored the second floor, following a hallway long enough to qualify as a highway. Here, it was the sameness that was disturbing. As they passed door after door, light fixture after light fixture, they had the sense that they were passing through the same small section in an endless loop. They laughed about it at first until they turned around and saw no end to the hallway in the direction they had come. They began to wonder if they would be able to find the stairway down to the first floor again…if they needed to get there in a hurry that is, because something was chasing them…

They both decided it would be better to stop thinking things like that.

"So, shall we check out some of these rooms?" She tried a door and opened it, gesturing Scott to try the one on his side. His opened as well. They separated, leaving the doors to their rooms wide open.

Scott's room was some kind of art studio. A few dozen paintings on easels were covered with sheets, and there were a few old palettes and broken brushes on the floor. Scott lifted the sheet on the first painting. It was excellent work, and seemed to be a picture of the hallway outside the room. The perspective was forced, making it look like an infinite tunnel. In the center, or what was supposed to be at the far end of the hallway was a dark figure. It was hard to make out details, but there was something wrong with the head of the figure. It looked odd. Scott went to the other end of the room and pulled the sheet off another piece. Same picture, apparently the next in a sequence though it was nowhere near the first. The figure in this picture was larger, and more detail could be seen. It had red dots for eyes, and horns on its head. Like a goat. Scott shivered, then revealed a third painting near the far window. Same picture, the figure even closer. The goat-thing seemed to be grinning, it's mouth filled with several rows of sharp teeth, like a shark. There was no doubt that it was wholly evil, and Scott was really creeped out by the effect. He walked back towards the door, listening for Allison. He heard her tinkling laugh, and a man's voice speaking to her, probably Derek or Stiles. It was hard to tell. He walked a bit closer to the room's center, wondering if he should look at more paintings, or just go find Allison and rejoin the pack. He scowled, not liking to admit even to himself that he was spooked. Cursing, he pulled off a fourth sheet. The room began to get colder as if he uncovered an air conditioner instead of a painting. The figure was now fully realized, and Scott noticed that the extreme left and right edges of the painting showed open doors…as if the thing were outside right now and approaching the section of the hall they were in. It's grin was wider, and its long alien fingers sported hooked claws. The scariest thing about it was the fact that it was wearing human clothes, a kind of Sunday suit that looked rotted and decayed. It's legs ended in cloven hooves. Scott went to leave the room, but was stopped by an even colder draft from the hall. He had the surest sense the thing was out there. Scott flicked on the light switch, causing a bulb to glow weakly. Scott uncovered the next painting and was horrified to see that in this one, light was painted pouring out of his room, while Allison's remained dark. The figure was now six doors away from their section. Another painting. Five doors, and now the figure was shown to be tall, its horns nearly brushing the ceiling. Allison laughed again, and another low murmur from whichever Pack member was with her. Now he thought it might have been Ted or Danny.

Another painting. Four doors away. The compulsion was almost perverse. He didn't want to do this anymore, and yet he watched his fingers stretching to the next sheet against his will. Three doors. The power of the goat headed man was palpable, pouring from the picture in a wash of malevolence. The room grew even colder, and the lightbulb seemed to dim. The world outside the windows darkened, as if the room floated in a void somewhere outside time and space. Another painting. Two doors down, and Scott noticed the red eyes had catlike irises. The floor in the hallway outside creaked loudly. Another painting, and now the sound of harsh rasping breath began to tickle his ears. Another painting (this one located right behind the door to the room), and the thing was right outside his door. It was turning to his room, the lit one, its mouth open and a forked tongue flicking out like a snake testing the air. Scott wanted to slam the door shut and lock the thing outside, but then it might go after Allison. Whoever was with her might protect her…or it could get them both.

"He doesn't love you."

Scott clearly heard the voice speaking to Allison from across the hall. She sighed.

"Not like I do. You know I'm right. You've said the same to me…" came the male voice again. It was definitely Jackson. Allison didn't respond. Fury began to war with his fear. He always knew he wasn't good enough for Allison, always knew he would constantly have to compete with guys like Jackson. Lydia wasn't good enough for him, he had to have Scott's mate too. Hell, they'd probably have a threeway, laughing at Scott's misery the whole time. He could actually see it in his mind, the three perfect members of the group reveling in their superiority over regular schmucks like Scott. He saw himself crying to the other Pack members, and them telling him 'You didn't expect her to stay with you? We all knew it was just a short-time thing, bro…she was always telling us you didn't measure up…'

Scott slammed a fist into the wall, making a huge hole.

Now a new voice spoke. It was completely inhuman sounding, and seemed to come from the hall and in his own mind.

"You have a choice before you. Close the door, and I will claim your faithless friend and lover. Or, reveal the last painting…and I claim YOU!" The last word made Scott jump…it was impossible that Allison hadn't heard that. Or maybe she did, and was ignoring it knowing he would make the chump decision and fight the thing for her; then she would be free to be with Jackson while Scott lay dead in a haunted freaking house, and not one of the Pack members gave a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut…

The shift came on him, and he reached out to slam the door shut…actually brushed his claws against the door and moved it…before pulling it back to his side. The harsh breathing continued to sound outside the door, and there was definitely something moving there in the shadows. If that was what made her happy, so be it. He would be better off dead. Not that he intended to roll over and die…he was a werewolf, after all.

"Come get me then. But get one thing straight you spooky fuck: You're not the only monster around here!"

Scott snatched off the last sheet and started in surprise. The last canvas was completely blank.

Allison was taken completely by surprise at the room she was in. It was fantastic! Allison loved music boxes, and this was a treasure trove of the most beautiful examples of the craft she had ever seen. She opened one shaped like an egg, and it played 'Moonlight Sonata'. She laughed and tried another. The 'Salzbach Waltz'. She would listen to one, laugh or sigh and then move on to the next. She could spend hours or days in here, and wished she had known so she could have them all removed and sent to the apartment she shared with Scott. She picked up the delicate egg again, deciding to stash it into her bag downstairs. Scott suddenly barged into the room, shifted and furious looking.

"Where is he?" he roared.

"Who?" she asked. She hadn't seen anyone but Scott up here.

"Jackson! I COULD SMELL HIM ALL OVER YOU!" he shouted. He smacked the egg out of her hands. It flew into a wall and smashed to smithereens.

"Scott! I can smell as good as you, and his scent is nowhere up here! He was never up here! Tell me, am I lying?"

Scott was already listening, and looked confused when he realized she was telling the truth. He shifted back.

"Oh my God, Allison I am so sorry! You have no idea what just happened to me! In the other room – nevermind, I really did hear him and I still smell him!"

Allison knew he was telling the truth also, and began to get scared…but she was furious too.

"Next time you go around accusing me of anything, you better make damn sure I'm guilty first! And don't you ever hit me again or I will claw your face off!" Allison knew she was overreacting, but the tune from the music box was still running through her mind, setting her teeth on edge. She was quite unable to calm herself down. She stormed out of the room and Scott followed her, feeling more miserable by the second. After a 45 second walk, they found the stairway and went back downstairs, neither one speaking to the other or even acknowledging each other's existence until they both heard Lydia scream.

{}{}{}{}

Jackson and Lydia gazed around in awe at the colossal kitchen. Jackson's new steakhouse that he'd bought for the Pack to dine at whenever they felt like it served about 700 customers per day, but the kitchen here was bigger. Even more surprising was the fact that all the pots, pans and utensils were still hanging from the racks. Many were filthy or rusty, but some looked serviceable. The pantry held dozens of mason jars so covered in spider webs that their contents were unidentifiable. Rusty cans and tins with labels too faded to read sat on other shelves, as well as a few moldering sacks of what might have been vegetables. An enormous 1950's style refrigerator sat in a niche in the wall. Jackson opened it and stared into it with fascination. The shelves had been removed, giving the appliance the look of a large metal coffin.

Lydia came over and touched his shoulder, causing Jackson to lurch backwards.

"What is up with you? It's empty and old, so why do you keep staring in there?" she asked as she unpacked their food supplies. She was delighted to find that the stoves worked, since no one had thought to bring a microwave.

"I never told anyone in the Pack this…but I'm claustrophobic. My mother told me once that a kid got trapped in one of these suckers and suffocated when the door locked him in. I was terrified that it would happen to me if I weren't careful…I hate closed in spaces. You know, I've been tempted so many times to trade in the damned cramped Porsche for an SUV, but my parents would have a heart attack. Plus, Scott would laugh his ass off."

"Well the sooner you marry me and knock me up, the sooner you can buy one and drive the kids around with it while I spend the Whittemore millions on every pair of Jimmy Choo shoes in the world."

Jackson stared at her, wondering if she were kidding. She had just bumped closed in spaces down to second place on his list of worst fears. Lydia walked to the other side of the kitchen while Jackson turned back to the fridge. He had the distinct sense that cold air were pouring out of it, as if it were working. Plus, that rotting meat smell was back. Cautiously, he stuck his hand into the dark interior to see if it was colder inside. He took a step forward, almost touching the back wall of the appliance. Suddenly the heavy metal door swung shut, knocking him forward on his hands and knees inside the smelly, freezing belly of the metal beast. The door snicked as the latch caught.

He shouted in surprise and fear, getting to his feet only to smack his head into the top. The fridge looked easily able to accommodate him standing to his full height from the outside, but now he was standing hunched over, the sides pressing against his arms. He tried to push the door with his hands, but it wouldn't budge. In the darkness, he wasn't even sure he was facing the front; for all he knew he could be pushing against the side. He began to panic as the air quickly turned stale and close, the box continuing to shrink so that he could not even turn around anymore. Real panic set in, and he began to shake the box, but it barely moved, secured into its niche in the kitchen wall. This wasn't supposed to happen to him, he had always been so careful his whole life to avoid exactly this type of situation. He wouldn't be here if it weren't for goddamn Stiles and his stupid idea to have a party here.

And at the thought of Stiles and what he'd like to do to the other boy, Jackson's inner wolf roused itself. It hadn't responded to Jackson's terror, but anger was too closely aligned with its instincts to resist. Jackson was slow in transforming, the wolf finding it more difficult to emerge than usual, but emerge it did. Teeth pushed their way through his gums, flooding his mouth with the taste of his own blood which only served to draw the beast from its lair more quickly. Its rage grew to match Jackson's own, and then surpassed it. Jackson growled and slammed a clawed fist into the metal in front of him and he was pleased to feel it give. He did it again, and again, getting more room to draw his fist back each time. Then he was kicking at the damned door. The walls seemed to try to warp in closer, to embrace him and immobilize him, but the monstrous fridge was not up to the task of holding an enraged Beta werewolf. With one final slam, the door flew off its hinges and slammed into the far wall. Jackson roared and leapt out, turning and picking the fridge up and hurling it across the vast kitchen and through an enormous window. Lydia shrieked at him, and within seconds the rest of the Pack arrived. Derek's eyes widened when he saw Jackson; the boy was pushed past the usual stopping point of the Beta shift, he was halfway into the Alpha phase…something a Beta could do only in the very direst circumstances or in a transport of rage. It took a tremendous toll on the werewolf in question and never lasted more than a short time, but they could do a lot of damage in the meantime. Derek had not heard of this happening to a Beta in his or his father's or even grandfather's time. It was that rare. Jackson's teeth and claws were half again their normal size, and his eyes were flashing between gold and crimson. The rest of the Pack looked at him fearfully. Ted, Danny and Scott shifted reflexively, while Stiles stood in front of the girls in a protective stance. Despite the urgency of the situation, Derek felt a flash of pride that they instinctively could work together to face a threat.

"Jackson. It's me. You can calm down. Your Pack is here…we won't let anything happen to you. Hear my voice, and shift back." Derek put as much of the Alpha command into his voice as possible.

Jackson, or at least the wolfish part of him snarled aggressively at the Alpha. The human part of his mind was deeply submerged…or it had retreated. Looking at the ruins of the fridge

door and the boy's state of panic, it was easy to figure out what happened. The only question was whether it was an accident.

Derek stared Jackson down, letting his own eyes burn crimson while Jackson's stopped flashing and kept the gold glow steadily. He slowly shifted back, looking pale, terrified and human. Then he fainted.

{}{}{}{}

"Lydia, what the hell happened to him?" Derek snarled at the redhead. Scott and Allison carried Jackson to the ballroom and placed him on a small couch while Danny and Ted were washing up in the bathroom. Stiles was raiding the first aid kit he brought looking for smelling salts

"I have no idea! I was unpacking the food while he was just staring into that stupid fridge, and the next thing I know he's throwing it at my head! I didn't hear him get into the damn thing or try to break out of it until he actually did!"

Lydia's heartbeat, though racing, was steady throughout her story, not that Derek would have worried about a lie. Lydia was truthful almost to a fault ever since she was turned. Clearly she was worried about Jackson, despite the occasional argument the two had. She would never want anything bad to happen to him.

Derek listened to the other's stories already, and thought about telling them about the experience with Stiles, but decided against it. The Pack didn't need to know how freaked out he was lest they start to panic. From everything he read, places like this fed on the negative emotions like fear and anger. Eight panicked and enraged werewolves would be like a ten course meal at a 5 Star restaurant.

All of them looked out of their minds with fear, except for Stiles who looked guilty that his big idea led to such trouble. So far, of all of them, Stiles alone had not noticed anything out of the ordinary except for the smells, and Derek thought it might be important to find out why that was.