Disclaimer: I do not own teenwolf or any quotes or ideas taken from any other creators. I believe most of this to be original work but in case it isn't the disclaimer is here.
Author Note:This is my little pet project at the moment, I had a thought about a creature and felt that the Teen Wolf universe would be a fantastic choice to allow it life. Read Review and Enjoy.
Chapter 1: Will Power
A true alpha. A power experienced once in a blue moon. Not seen for generations by anybody. A folk-tale parents tell their children to get them to be the best person that they could possibly be.
A werewolf. Be they bitten, born, rain-drinker, or any of the various turning methods, rises up through the hierarchy and becomes the strongest of their kind. An alpha. A leader. A warrior. Through sheer will power they rise up and their power increases tenfold.
Every well established werewolf knows about the power of a true alpha. About how they could become stronger than every other one of their kind.
But maybe, will power has nothing to do with it. One can not simply want the power so badly they ascend. Only when somebody truly needs that power will it rise within them. After all, power comes in response to a need, not a desire.
Stiles could do nothing as Brunski played the cassette tape. His small frame was trapped by the rope constraints. His wrists were being rubbed raw as he struggled against the ropes binding him.
His brown eyes an emotional mix of rage, sadness, as he watches the love of his life listen to her grandmother die. "Lydia, look at me. Don't listen to it okay? Don't listen to it."
Pleading with his voice trying to stop her from listening to the tape.
"Just focus on my voice okay. Block it out okay?"
He struggles harder with his hands. Trying to wrestle free, his body twisting and turning anyway he can in the hopes to get free.
The sadness flowing through the room coming from Lydia became too much. His anger rises at Brunski who is forcing them to hear the death of Lorraine Martin.
Turning to see the vile man he yells at him in a feeble attempt to make him stop the recording.
"HEY TURN IT OFF!"
His world spins seconds after raising his voice as Brunski punches him square in the nose. As he attempts to sit up he very faintly hears Brunski speaking through his clenched teeth.
"...Because I need your help with something."
Stiles feels his breathing rate pick up. The sheer terror emanating from Lydia, almost like a battering ram, pounds into his chest. Every muscle in his body tightens up.
"Please don't hurt her." the tape echoing every emotion raging through Stiles' being he fights deeply against the restraints holding him.
Stiles can't take it anymore. He barely watches as Brunski slinks back away from Lydia.
Feeling the need to protect her from the danger he once more feels every muscle tighten. His chest squeezes like a vice around his heart.
In his peripheral vision he watches as Brunski picks up the needle filled with God knows what. Then Slowly creep towards them.
"I'll admit Stiles. I don't have any unusual talents like Lydia. But I just knew we were gonna get the chance to do this again."
The smug smirk lines Brunski's face as he creeps towards the pair. Deciding that Lydia would be the first to die he attempts to drive the needle into her neck.
Time freezes. Stiles watches this exact moment.
Frozen in a forever moment.
His mind races through every single possibility. With every single thought they always end the same. With Lydia dead.
If he somehow slips a hand out of his bindings and slaps the needle away Brunski would quickly overpower him and kill Lydia.
If he fails to break free, Brunski kills Lydia.
If by some miracle the needle doesn't work and Stiles gets a few more moments to think Brunski would simply grab another Needle and kill Lydia.
Kill Lydia.
Kill Lydia.
Kill Lydia.
Every single thought races through Stiles' head in this one moment. And he realizes he can do nothing to prevent this. As he is right now he can't save her. The love of his life. From 3rd grade til the end of time. And he can't save her…
No. He wouldn't let it end like this.
He couldn't. He could feel his chest tighten a third time. Every muscle compressing around his heart. So tight it felt like it couldn't beat.
He felt a cold spread throughout his body. A numbing sensation, like the blood was being drained from every one of his limbs. All tightening around his heart. A tightness unlike any other compressed in his chest.
Then, like leaping off a cliff, finally, Stiles felt weightless.
"NO!" Stiles snapped free from his bindings.
In one motion he seized Brunskis wrist and bent it with vigor.
"AHH!" The crack of Brunskis wrist echoed around the room like a gunshot. The radius bone was protruding from his forearm in a way nothing ever should.
Brunski stares back at Stiles. "You…. What are you…. Please, don't hurt me, it wasn't my fault. S-S-She made me."
Tightening his grip Stiles forces Brunski down to his knees. "You'll not harm a single hair on her head. Nor anybody else's."
Before Brunski can blink, Stiles' hand is around his throat.
Lydia watched on in shock. Like watching a car crash she was stunned into silence. Watching what was apparently Stiles; standing ominously over Brunksi's damaged form. She could see his hand wrapped around the throat of the orderly.
"Stiles! No!"
The rage coursing through Stiles deafened him to the pleas of Lydia. He felt the tender throat of Brunski being slowly crushed between his fingers. The eyes of terror staring deep into his own, only he found himself having no sympathy for the man.
He had tried to kill his friend. His love. His Banshee
. The only thing he felt for the pitiful man whose life he held was indifference. But he could feel her. The fear coming from the girl behind him made Stiles hesitate.
It wasn't the same fear as before, this was directed at him. He turns his head sharply to look at her.
A small gasp escapes her, her eyes widen, her breath hitches. "Stiles?"
A soft growl escapes him, almost resenting the name she had used.
"Stiles, please let him go." The tears spilling over her eyes has stiles cocking his head questioningly.
Why should he let him go? Why shouldn't he destroy the prey in his hands? After all, this being was a simple bug born for him to squash.
It wouldn't take any effort at all, a twist and pull. Like opening a glass bottle.
Just as the final decision to tear Brunski's head off was clear in his mind, Stiles hears a deafening roar behind him.
The Fiery eyes of a hellhound staring dangerously into his own. Parish, ignites his body in searing flames as his own creature reacts violently to the one standing before him.
In a final roar and the flick of his claws Parrish lunges into battle.
Stiles, completely taken over by instinct, snarls then collides with the lunging creature. Being overwhelmed by the momentum Stiles gets pinned.
His body is searing from the scorching heat that's pressing into him. Unable to recover from the pinned position, his hands completely tied down and the flaming claws from the hell beast on top of him tearing into his flesh.
He does the only instinctual move left. With a snarl of pain and desperation he lunges forward with all his might and plunges his fangs deep into the throat of Parrish.
The rich, hot blood feels like somebody managed to liquify hell-fire itself.
*Lydia Perspective*
Still tied to the column Lydia can do nothing but watch as Stiles holds the man who so easily conquered them both, by the throat.
At least, she thinks it is still Stiles. His hair is now the palest white. His body was thinner than it had ever been.
Sharp claws and fangs protruded, unable to be contained in any way that could be comfortable later. But most of all it was the eyes.
An unforgettable and violent blue. Shining so cold and bright it was like an icy wind had frozen the ocean in its entirety.
She could do nothing, his presence had frozen her too. Then Parrish stormed in.
She felt a connection to both of these creatures. Unsure why and too scared to call out in fear of how her presence would affect them she sat there.
Helpless. Yet again. She hadn't even noticed the tears pouring from her eyes until she felt them dripping from her chin, not that she cared about them.
She was watching as Parrish was mauling Stiles, his blood flying around the room and his open wounds seeming to affect him very little in his struggles.
After what felt like an eternity she saw the desperation kick in for Stiles, his struggles becoming a lot more frantic. Finally she saw the bite.
The sharp fangs tense with every muscle in his body as Stiles bit deep into Parrish's neck. She could barely hear the roar that came out from Parrish over the pit feeling in her stomach.
The one accompanying her when she finds a dead body. A deep sleep threatening to take her over. She fought with every ounce to stay upright and alive.
Just as the darkness was creeping into her eyesight.
She screamed.
The only noise she could even attempt to make. A cruel, hollow scream from a tired, broken girl.
Then just before she faded into slumber, she heard a victorious roar, Or maybe it was a snarl, she couldn't tell.
Her last sight was the changing of one of those cruel icy blue eyes as it faded into a deep, blood red, with what looked like blue flames licking its central pitch black.
Then, unconsciousness took her over.