So, I re-watched Venomous and realized that the kanima from the garage and the pool is different from Jackson kanima. The gp kanima is kinda green and j kanima is kinda blue. But that might be because of the light.
And I know I promised there would be a fight in this... But I have to get this out of the way first. Think of this chapter like... the door to the room.
I just wanted to get Chris in a pickle to make him irrational and desperate. Because irrational and desperate people make scary decisions. ):
Anyways... Please leave a message, review, alert, favorite! (:
"Dude, it's 3 pm. We've been waiting for 5 hours," Stiles grumbled. "My legs are numb from crouching, I'm about to fall asleep, and some bug – " he slapped the back of his neck " – keeps biting me."
Derek held his breath, trying to calm himself. Stiles had been constantly complaining and making so much noise. He wondered if it was Stiles's fault that nothing was happening. "Keep annoying me, I dare you. And it won't be the bug bites you'll be worried about. It'll be mine."
Stiles looked at Derek and shuffled backwards, away from him. "Sorry. Sorry. My lips are sealed."
"Don't say that."
"Why not?"
"Because it gives me false hope every time I hear it," Derek said with a serious tone. "And we both know your lips will not be sealed."
Stiles smiled nervously.
"Unless I knock you out with my fists."
Derek's phone vibrated. "Yeah," he answered.
"Think we should call it off?" Scott asked. "Go home and come back again tomorrow?"
Derek quickly skimmed the surroundings. Nothing. Nothing except Chris pacing on the high school field, slightly agitated. "Alright. Let's call it off. Go back, relook everything. Maybe we missed something."
He shut his phone and got up.
"Ah, finally!" Stiles shouted, stretching, and moaning in pain. "Ugh… I'm gonna be so sore when I wake up in the morning." He yawned obnoxiously. "I'm heading home. See you later."
"No. No, you're not." Derek gave him a pointed look. "We have to review all the files again. And again. And again. Until we find something that we didn't notice before."
"Whaaa?"
"This should've worked, but it didn't," Derek said, walking towards his car. "Obviously, we missed something. So get in your car, pop some caffeine pills, and meet us at the Argents."
"I don't get it," Jackson said. "Why do I have to be here, helping you guys?"
"Because, Lizard weirdo, the Wisps concern you, too," Stiles said.
"Stop calling me that."
"Yeah, sure... Lizard weirdo."
"Okay, dropping the lizard topic. Why am I here? Why can't you guys deal with this?"
"You're a Supernatural. We need all the help we can get," Chris said, studying the reports. He was beyond frustrated. Month after month after month. People were dying and they still didn't have anything. He poured himself a glass of scotch. He didn't care that his vision was getting blurred, that he was dizzy, that he felt like dropping to the ground, wasted.
"Wait, guys," Scott said. "I think I got something."
Everyone looked at him, attentive and waiting.
"It's in the witnesses' reports." Scott pulled them out of the files and passed them around. "In each of them, a few witnesses claimed they saw the victims slip up at least a week before their deaths."
"They're humans," Allison said. "Not all of us are strong enough to –"
"And maybe that's it. Someone's been giving the coins to Anonymous members who have slipped. To punish them."
Silence. Everyone read the papers, realizing that Scott was right.
"So, any of us used to be a druggie or an alcoholic?" Stiles asked.
"Yeah, I'm looking right at one," Derek joked, with a serious look.
"Wait, what?"
"Don't lie to me. I see you popping those Adderalls like it's nobody's business."
"That's because it is nobody's business. And I'm not addicted to them."
"You know what they say."
"What?"
"About denial."
"Okay. Well, now we're in deep shit. We don't know anyone in Beacon Hills who is aware of the Supernaturals and has had an addiction," Jackson complained. He leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes that were aching from all the reading.
"He's right," Allison said. "And we don't have enough time to call for outside help. And we don't know any cured Supernaturals. And we don't know how to cure them."
Chris slammed his hands against the wall he was leaning on. Time was ticking. More people were dying – both humans and non. He finished another glass and poured another glass. He was losing hope. They all were. Finding a hunter with skeletons in the closet would take too much time. The only option left was to find a cured. Or a cure. He had to. Failure is not an option.
"Are you ready?"
Anna closed her eyes. The past years she felt so strong, so… free. And, to be honest, she loved it. She loved the fear on people's faces when she fought back, when she hurt them more than they hurt her. She loved the rush of wind as she sprinted through the forest, scenery blurring together.
But she was a monster.
She opened her eyes, determined.
"Yes," she told the warlock.
She watched him pull out a cellphone from his pocket and dial a number. "Hey, are you here yet?"
Anna smiled. A man of ancient magic using a cellphone was amusing.
Another man walked into the room. An old priest. "I'm right here."
Anna panicked. "Why's a priest here?" Were they going to kill her? She just wanted to be cured, not killed. "Are you going to kill me?"
"No," the warlock said, trying to calm her down. "He's part of the ritual."
The priest walked forward, to the basin and pulled out a small knife engraved with Romanian scriptures.
"Wha – what are you doing?" Anna shouted as she watched him aim it at himself. "Are you crazy?"
"Relax. You need the blood of a willing donor," he said, pointing to himself. "And he has to be a man of God."
He made a slit above his elbow and let the blood spill into the basin. He then pulled out a small leather bag and took four pinches of powder, sprinkling it.
"What's that?"
"Wolfsbane."
"But won't it kill me?"
"Not if it's used correctly."
She watched him, intently, as he picked up a stick that looked like would crumble with just a little pressure. He stirred the potion with it.
"And what's that?"
The priest looked at her, amused. "You have a lot of questions."
She smiled, wryly. "Can you blame me? That stuff is going to be injected in me. I like to know what I'm dealing with."
"It's from this tree that grew in a tiny island off the coast of Romania," the warlock answered for the priest who was busy conducting the ritual.
He muttered a monotonous chant in some strange language while stirring. The only word she recognized was 'vârcolac' because of the intense research she had been doing for the past years since the bite. After stirring, he tightened his hold on the stick, crushing it, letting the dust float down to the potion.
"Done," the old priest said. "Now we wait."
Anna shivered, afraid and anxious. What would happen when they shot that medicine into her veins? Would it be gentle? Or harsh? What would be the chances she would die from the process or from the pain?
"Relax," the warlock said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We know what we're doing."
She sighed. "Well, it'd be too late for me to back out anyway."
The priest laughed. "Yes, yes, it would be."
"It's time," the warlock interrupted. He hurried to all the windows and opened them, letting in the warm breeze.
Anna looked up at the black sky. No moon. New moon. The opposite of a full moon.
She looked at the priest and the warlock.
"I'm ready."
She sat on the chair and the warlock pushed the back down, reclining it. He rolled up her sleeves and said, "Just relax."
From the corner of her eyes, she saw the priest fill the syringe with the red liquid. With her werewolf vision, she could see the purple and gray dust swirling together, floating in the blood.
She bit her tongue, nervous.
She flinched as the priest stood next to her.
"Relax," the warlock repeated.
The priest gently inserted the needle into her vein. He pushed down the plunger, letting the potion rush through her bloodstreams.
Anna screamed. The pain was much more agonizing than her first change. Like tiny shards of glass were racing through her, slicing and piercing.
She tasted a something bitter and tangy. Sour. She had bit her tongue too hard, drawing blood.
The pain was excruciating. But she could hear the warlock speaking to her, trying to ease the pain. She could feel the priest's cold hands clench hers.
The first time she felt the torment, she had no one to hold her.
At least she wasn't alone this time.
Summer shuddered as she remembered that night. She gently brushed her fingers against the scar on her left arm. That night had been her happiest night since her father died.
She smiled, picking up the brush and running it through her hair.
Anna woke up, body aching. "What's going on?" she tiredly mumbled, confused. Then she remembered. She leapt off the chair, fully awake. "Did it – did it work?" she asked, crazed.
The priest burst in the room, glass of water for her in his hand. She drank it greedily.
"So? Did it work?" she asked again.
He smiled at her. "Yes."
The glass fell from her hands, shattering against the cement floor. She cried, holding onto him. "I'm cured. I'm cured. I'm cured," she whispered. Finally, she was free.
It took a week to regain her strength, to get used to being human again.
It was a month later and she was sitting by the fountain, watching the family of koi glide in the water. She heard the warlock and the priest approach her.
"What's wrong, Anna?" the warlock asked her. "You're already healed. It's been a month. And you're still here. It's not that I'm trying to kick you out – I'm not – it's just… you were so excited to be out in the world again but you're letting yourself be cooped up here in this monastery. What's wrong?"
She dipped her fingers into the water, trying to pet a fish. She looked at them. "I don't know how."
The priest knew what she was talking about. And a part of him wanted to let her stay, to let her live as long as she want in this haven. But the other part of him wanted her to go. It was time for her to live in peace with the world. She had suffered long enough. "You do."
She felt a tear trail down her face. "No. No, I don't. I don't know how to start living again."
"Yes, you do."
She heard a horn beep outside her room. She felt a nervous. It was a long time since she had been on a date. She went outside, locked the door behind her, and got into Derek's Camaro.
Coming up in the next chapter:
Derek and Summer's first "real" date.
Something wrong happens to the necklace.
And secrets will be exposed! Ahhhh!
Don't forget to M.R.A.F.!