CHAPTER 8
Scott had withdrawn his claws. He looked down into the face of the man who was his mentor...the man he called friend. Awake and aware, Deaton looked back.
"It was for the greater good."
Covered in sweat, Scott collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor, directly opposite the vet.
"You needed a true alpha to activate the Nemeton...you wanted it restored from the beginning."
Deaton nodded.
"When the tree was cut years ago a ritual was performed to ensure that it couldn't easily be restored. The true alpha was chosen as the key to restoration. Those who performed the ritual believed that because true alphas were so rare that the opportunity to restore the Nemeton would never present itself."
"There wasn't a way to just make sure it couldn't be reactivated at all?" Scott asked.
Deaton shook his head.
"They chose the best option available for what they were aiming for."
"Who were they?" asked Scott.
Deaton hesitated.
"You said earlier you'd explain...I'm giving you a chance...who were they?"
Deaton actually looked wounded at Scott's tone, but the true alpha couldn't allow himself to give in...he had lost too much...he needed answers.
"They were druids...like me...but a different faction of druids. They believed...differently. They're the ones who cut down the tree and in doing so allowed the world to spiral out of balance."
Scott looked puzzled. He looked around the clinic which mirrored much of the buildings in Beacon Hills. Giant vines broke through the foundation and ran up the walls. Tree branches pushed through the ceiling. If Deaton was insinuating that the Nemeton was the key to restoring the balance, Scott didn't see it. Everything was a mess.
"I don't understand," Scott said, shaking his head.
"Take it all in, Scott...Beacon Hills has returned to nature...to it's roots...man's technology is being swallowed up in the way the world is supposed to be," Deaton said enthusiastically.
"You did all this to get rid of technology?" Scott asked, incredulously.
"I did all this to restore the balance, Scott...this is the way the world is supposed to be...and as a werewolf...you're a part of that world...the natural and the supernatural meshed into one. What has begun here will spread into the surrounding counties and eventually around the world. This is the way it's supposed to be...it's fate, Scott."
Scott couldn't hide his shock.
"You're mad..." the accusation flowed out of his mouth in the form of a whisper.
Even Stiles had voiced his distrust of Deaton, but Scott had dismissed him. How could he have been so blind?
"You let all those people die so the earth could go back to nature?" Scott asked, accusingly.
"Collateral damage, Scott...it was for the greater good."
"The greater good!? Stiles and Allison are dead! Derek and Lydia...dead!...you call the death of my friends the greater good?"
"Their sacrifice was for a good cause," Deaton replied, pleading with his eyes.
Scott shook his head. How far would Deaton go to ensure that his plan succeeded? A deadness came into Scott's heart.
"The kanima at the Nemeton...you were it's master weren't you?" Scott asked,accusingly.
Deaton didn't reply, but Scott recognized it in his eyes. He had indeed been the kanima's master.
Scott rose from the floor and backed out of the clinic leaving his boss tied up.
"Scott!...if you'll just listen to me..."
But Scott didn't listen...he was gone.
The hysteria rose in his throat. Swallowing hard, he pushed it down.
He glanced briefly at the place Peter's body had lain not more than 12 hours ago. The responsibility of burying him fell to Scott since there was no one left in town to do the job.
Scott didn't say anything when he laid him to rest...his emotions were conflicted. He had never trusted him, but like with Lydia, he felt the two of them had a connection...not that it mattered now.
Scott's gaze moved to the tree that towered over him...in two short years it had become the biggest tree in the perserve.
Scott gunned the engine on the bulldozer. Peter said the roots had been weakened. Scott hoped he was right.
"Nature meet modern day technology!"
Scott drove the dulldozer down on the tree.
Scott stumbled back towards the clinic. How long had it been? He couldn't remember, but he did know one thing...the tree was destoyed.
He laughed wildly at the thought of it. His voice sounded strange in his own ears.
When it crashed to the ground, He had soaked it in gasoline and set it on fire. Even now he could see the flames in the distance.
"Just a tree...a stupid tree!" he yelled into the wind.
He could also hear the fire engines. Despite the vacancy in Beacon Hills, the perserve was owned by the state. Their fire department would be on hand to put out the flames.
"They may save the forest but the Nemeton is toast," Scott muttered.
Scott almost fell through the clinic door. His clothes were torn and his hair singed. Dirt and ash covered his face and body.
"What have you done, Scott?" asked Deaton.
The vet had been working on the ropes but had been unsuccessful at loosing his bonds.
"Killed your damn tree...that's what I've done," Scott purred.
Deaton shook his head.
"Scott you don't know what you've done. Nature must be balanced...that tree needed to survive."
Scott gave Deaton a look of pity.
To Deaton it didn't look very sincere.
Scott noted the dying vines as he pushed his way into Deaton's office.
"Proof that your tree is gone for good," he said as he went.
"Scott! What are you doing? Let me go!"
Scott turned to face Deaton.
The wild look in the young werewolf's eyes brought a brief look of fear from the vet and then, just as suddenly, he relaxed.
"You're not a killer Scott...I know you," he said calmly.
Scott smiled strangly and raised his hand. In it he was holding a sharpie.
Deaton gazed from the sharpie to Scott's face, looking puzzled.
'A sharpie?...Scott, what do you intend to do with a sharpie?"
"You'll see..." Scott's voice went several octives higher.
Deaton became annoyed.
"Stop this nonsense, Scott...it may not be too late to undo the damage you've done...the Nemeton may yet be saved."
Scott tilted his head and looked at Deaton quizically.
"Oh I'd say it's more than damaged...I'd say it's dead."
"If you'd just let me go...let me check on it..." Deaton continued
"Let you go?!"
Scott smiled madly and shook his head.
"After I left here I needed to think...to try and understand why you did this...why it was so damn important to you. Despite, how I felt about it, I wanted to give you the benifit of the doubt...even after everything I saw in your memories."
Deaton nodded.
"That's good, Scott...better to think it out than to be led by your emotions...you need to do the same thing now...let me go...let me check on the Nemeton."
Scott ignored his interuption and continued.
"I went back to town...to my house...thought I could think better there than anywhere else. Do you know what I found?
"Scott if you would just untie..."
"Do you?!"
Deaton silenced his pleas as he saw Scott's distress. He simply shook his head in response.
Scott stuffed down his hysteria once again as he choked out the words.
"My mom was supposed to leave yesterday morning...I guess she decided to stay. My dad was there. He wasn't even supposed to be in town. I don't know...maybe she called him...thought if they presented a united front they could get me to leave."
Scott paused and looked away sqeezing his eyes tightly to hold back the tears.
"Guess it doesn't matter why they were there but they were...lifeless...bloody...ripped to shreds...I don't even know what kind of creature killed them."
"Scott...I am sorry...you have to believe that," Deaton responded.
Scott was silent.
He held up the sharpie and slammed the point into the wall facing Deaton. Slowly he traced the spiral on the wall.
Looking back at Deaton he asked, "Do you know what this means?"
"It's the werewolf symbol for vendetta," Deaton stated quitely.
Scott towered above his former mentor.
"Scott, I know you...this isn't you," Deaton stated in a final attempt to dissuade his former protegee.
Scott bore down on the man, "You're wrong...this IS me."
Deaton slumped to ground as Scott ripped out his throat.
EPILOGUE
The boy rarely crossed into the preserve, especially at night, but he had no choice...his car was out of gas. It would be a long walk back to his house, but he didn't care. He had just come from dropping Chelsea Mathis at her house. After six months of trying, she had finally decided to go out with him and the date had been a success. He smiled at the thought of the kiss she had given him before he drove off.
That kiss had put his mind in the clouds...so much so that he hadn't noticed the gas hand.
"Totally worth it," he said out loud.
The darkness seemed oppressive but at least it wasn't like he had heard about in Beacon Hills. People had said things were going horribly wrong there...people either left or they died. Thankfully, that was over 30 miles away.
A chill ran down his spine. He wondered just how big the preserve was.
"At least nothing weird is going on here in Whispering Pines," he mumbled to himself.
The eerie quiet felt oppressive and even Chelsea's kiss faded from his mind. He began to whistle to lift his spirits.
Suddenly, he stopped. "Why is it so quiet?" he wondered.
No birds were chirping...no small animals scurrying...not even an owl hooting in the distance. There was nothing but utter silence.
The boy froze. Through the brush not more than 8 feet away, two red eyes were staring at him.
His palms went sweaty and he felt his heartbeat begin to race.
The creature pounced and the boy felt a tear rip into his leg as he lunged away.
Stumbling forward the boy ignored the pain and pressed forward as fast as he could running towards the path he knew lay ahead. He did not stop to look behind him until he found the light from the nearby ranger station shining down around him.
He turned to look but nothing was there. Slowly, he backed down the path to the ranger station, eventually dissappearing from sight.
Scott watched as the boy retreated from the preserve. Now he would wait. Soon he would have his beta. Soon he would build his pack.