Chapter 5

"You're leaving?" Stiles said incredulously, seeing her worn duffle bag on the couch. Clothes were shoved in messily

"Yeah," she said point blank as she came from the kitchen. Her green bookbag hung on her shoulder unzipped. The sun had gone down a few hours ago and he'd shown up after she'd ignored all of his and Allison's calls.

Stiles heard Finstock mumbling about what a stupid girl she was as he walked down the hallway before seventh period. His head had been hanging off his shoulders, confused and heavy like there was only a thread keeping it attached. Of all the students, he cared for the ignorant one. Maybe it was her sass. Not a lot of people sassed the coach and succeeded. She sassed and didn't care.

Danny had come up to Stiles and Scott after the last class of the day, worried that something was wrong. It was unlike her to leave. Stiles was sure that she was just ditching, but Danny wasn't so sure. Nobody had seen or heard from her. And, that's when Stiles volunteered to make sure she was okay.

"Are you kidding me!?" Stiles screamed, his eyes angrily fixated on her.

Melanie stopped in the midst of putting textbooks in the bookbag, listing items off that she had to pack as well. She still had her other textbooks from private school, and if she couldn't be in school she had to learn the basics of life in inventive ways. Ways that meant stealing Beacon Hills High School property. Plus, a little memento never hurt.

"Why?" he yelled, making her flinch. "Why are you leaving huh? What has gotten you so scared? Don't tell me you're not either. Danny and Isaac know otherwise. Even I've noticed it; how stand-offish you are, and how you start to let us in a little then you suddenly block us out."

Melanie glanced at the blossomed rose on the coffee table and gulped. Tightening her jaw, she continued packing. Her hair fell from behind her ear in the haste followed by her glasses sliding down her nose some. Even though she pushed herself to move as fast as she could, making her tremble, she still didn't like she was going fast enough.

Grabbing her by the arm firmly, Stiles turned her to face him.

"We can help you," he said, softly.

She shook her head and shrugged from his grip. No he couldn't. Telling them anything would reveal that she knew about them. Stiles would get suspicious all over again. He'd think she was the bad guy for sure. Seth wouldn't hesitate to kill them if they tried going up against him.

Seth lacked everything that made a person care. Obsession was all that he knew. No matter what, this was a lose-lose battle.

"Nobody can help me," she blurted harshly. Rolling her eyes, she cursed herself inwardly for speaking. The one person that could help her wasn't here.

"We can. Just tell me what's going on. Why are you so scared?"

"God! You don't understand."

"Then tell me."

"I can't. I shouldn't have let any of you get as close as you did. It's dangerous," she exasperated, her voice shaking. Stay cold, he'll go away, she thought. She clenched her fist tightly, digging her nails into her palm. This pain made the indescribable horror inside subside, but only for a second. The pinching that bit into her soft skin because of the pressure made her picture Seth digging his unruly, sharp claws into her throat, so she released her fist.

She zipped her bookbag aggressively. She'd never been in one place for so long anyway. With luck, she'd get out unscathed, but she wasn't feeling lucky. This place actually made her feel cursed. She was in Los Angeles for a week; the night life was fun. San Diego for three days. It was all just a matter of time, and time was up.

It was time cut everyone off which shouldn't be as difficult as it was right now. Especially after everything that has gone on since her arrival. That was the point of being defensive and bitchy. It was supposed to make it easier for them to not care about her. That way, she'd be able to go and they wouldn't think twice about it, but it was backfiring. And, of all people it was backfiring with Stiles. He should've given up first because of all his drama, but here he was, yapping in her ear.

"Understand? How can I understand if you don't tell me!" he exclaimed, his hands flying up angrily.

His voice started climbing again. Melanie wondered if he was always this passionate about everything or if he was just a drama queen. It was hard to tell.

"Seriously Melanie!" he continued. "I can't think of one single thing I know about you except for what I see in front of me-"

Hearing a creak near the back of the house, Melanie froze. Everything inside her froze, her gut, her heart, her panicked thoughts, everything. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. A cold chill ran down along the bumps of her spine.

"Shut up," she snapped, slapping her hand over his mouth. An ow was mumbled making her hand tickle.

Tucking her hair back, she tilted her head to the side only slightly. Her chest rose and fell heavily in shallow breaths. No, she thought with a whisper.

"You have to go," she told him shoving him toward the door.

"What? No. We're not finished here. You can't just shove me out when you feel like it." He tried putting all his weight into staying where he stood.

"I'm serious," she said gravely, shoving him effortlessly.

Stiles shook his head angrily. Opening the front door, she shoved him through it.

"Melanie!"

"Please! Just go!" she pleaded, her eyes watering.

Closing the door in his face, she watched him trot off across the street angrily then pulled out her cell phone. Through blurred eyes, she dialed Derek's number. She had to do it twice, her fingers were shaking so hard.

"Melanie," he said, answering on the second ring. His voice was as unsettling as she felt. He could always tell when something was wrong.

"Derek, he's here Derek," she cried, looking around the house fretfully. Goosebumps rose all over her skin as she searched, hoping not to find those dark eyes falsifying kindness.

"Get out. Get out now!" he yelled. "I just crossed into town. I'll find you-"

"Just stay on the phone," she pleaded, trembling. There was more creaking from the kitchen.

"Go Melanie!" he yelled. There was another voice that spoke, a feminine one, but Melanie didn't hear what she said. The voice was faint.

Turning, she fumbled turning the doorknob. She flung the door open and stumbled back, her face paled immediately from the sight in front of her. The door slammed against the wall. The air went still.

There he stood, in his terrifying beauty; the thing that once drew her to him. His blonde hair hung in his eyes, casting a shadow over his facial features. She could see the illumination of blue work past the brown irises. He had killed people.

He smirked. He was angry. The signs were obvious with how rigid he stood though it looked so casual. And, especially obvious because she saw his nails elongate into sharp, brownish claws.

"Seth…" she breathed.

"Run!" she heard Derek yell faintly through her phone.

"Hello beautiful," Seth purred, glancing at her cell phone then back into her eyes.

Melanie gulped and took a cautious step backward. Seth stepped over the threshold and reached out to caress her soft cheek. She trembled from the touch of his frigid fingers.

"I've missed you so much. I thought you were gone for good," he murmured.

Melanie remained quiet as Derek continued to yell through her phone. There was no escaping from Seth this time. She could feel it in her gut, the way it twisted. Her pounding heart mixed with the growling that erupted from deep inside of his chest. She backed away hastily, putting space between them. Her lips parted, quivering. Any moment he'd pounce.

"Stay away," she squeaked. She wanted to fight, but every ounce of her was frozen in fear leaving her immobile. Anybody else, she would've kicked their ass to Sunday, but him, no. He had loved her and still did which lead him here, but his love hurt. It left bruises, and she didn't know how to fight this love-turned-obsession.

At first she fought, but there was no winning. He grew stronger from her being his anchor, and she was left with no other choice but to run. And now here he was.

"You know I can't."

Turning to run, she dropped her phone. A searing pain ran through her neck and she was yanked backwards. Seth stared down at her for a moment, his face close to hers. His ragged breath was loud in her ear. His eyes were full of shame, making her feel ashamed like this was all her fault. He could always make her feel that way.

He shoved her to the floor roughly. Her body thudded painfully against the carpet. The red would blend perfectly with her blood. She got up quickly not wanting to be kicked and was knocked to the floor again with a slap to the face.

Melanie shook from the slap as it moved through every inch of her, making the whole side of her face burn. The whole room spun. Her cheek was wet. Blood. Touching it, she felt three claw marks ranged from her cheekbone to her nose and chin. The dry air stung.

"Don't do this!" she pleaded.

"You did this. This is your fault. You left me," Seth said, his eyes lit up with a blazing fury as he looked down at her.

Kneeling down, he tilted her head up, a tender look replacing the crazed one. It was worse than the crazy look. She could see the crazy right behind this fake veil. Her chin was pressed firmly between his index finger and thumb, his claws pressing unpleasantly into her skin. Bits of hair stuck to the gashes.

"When I'm done with you, I'm going to kill that kid who just left. What's his name?"

Melanie whimpered, trying to pull out of his firm grasp, but his fingers only tightened their grip on her. Any harder and she would have a new piercing.

"We can fix this. I'll get rid of him and pretend you didn't try to leave me," he continued.

He let go of her chin and stood, towering over her. Crawling backwards a little, Melanie made it to the doorway. Her fingertips were over the threshold. She could see the street. It glistened from the storm earlier. Without a chance of getting through it, Seth grabbed her firmly by the ankle. She screamed as she was dragged backwards. Derek still yelled through her phone—"Melanie!"

"Why did you turn around? Oh right, you're stupid," Stiles mumbled to himself as he parked in the spot he'd been in not more than five minutes before. He cut the engine.

Scott's voice kept nagging at him. He had to get a new voice of conscience because Scott was too nice, and Melanie wasn't nice which made this seem like a really bad idea. She was kind of like Derek. She was just as sarcastic, mean and had good style. She was the female Derek.

Getting out of the jeep, he walked across the street, slinging his car keys around his finger. Nearly dropping them, he shoved clumsily into his pocket then ran he fingers through his messy hair. He decided to let it grow out.

Getting to the walkway, he looked up from his shoes and saw the front door hanging open. A nauseous feeling ran through his cheeks, the kind that warned a person they were going to vomit. He bolted the rest of the way up to the house, stopping in the doorway, his breathing hitched. Scratches raked across the floor. There was resistance.

A few feet away, a black iPhone sat face up, cracked. A picture of her and Derek flickered on the lock screen. She was pulling his ear while he stared at her annoyed. It was the look he gave Stiles all the time. The coffee table was flipped over, showing distress.

Stiles crouched a little and tip toed further into the house. Looking around cautiously, one step at a time, he walked into the dining room. Both chairs were flipped, the legs on one completely broken off and lying under the table. Something dark was smeared on the floor, reddish…blood.

"Melanie!" Stiles whispered, looking around.

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing painfully. Don't be dead, he thought, clenching his fists.

"Stiles…"

The voice was raspy. Stiles peered into the kitchen. On the floor, Melanie laid on her side, but he couldn't recognize her. The linoleum was spattered red like an abstract painting. Melanie's face was swollen. Her back faced the island counter though she nearly laid on her stomach.

"Stiles…" she repeated. "R-run."

.He slid to her side, the knees of his jeans soaking up the bits of blood like a mop.

"Good idea." His voice shook.

Attempting to grab her he paused, moving his hands over her without touching her. Any way he thought of helping her get up looked painful. There was no right to pick her up without her crying.

"Run…" she grumbled a little louder causing her words to gurgle.

Stiles shook his head once, the way he normally did when he was about to do something that was going to suck and grabbed her firmly by the arm. His intention to get her out was thwarted. He was grabbed by the back of his shirt and yanked upward. The teenage boy met the cold, illuminated blue eyes of a large werewolf.

Seth bared his teeth at Stiles.

"You should've listened when she said run," he growled. Drool pooled at the corner of his mouth.

Melanie sobbed, watching, immobilized as Seth threw him to the other side of the room. The guttural sounds he made as Seth beat him sent tremors through her, making the agonizing hell she felt worse. He was going to kill him.

"Let him go," she pleaded. "Seth! Let him go or I'm never forgiving you!"

Seth paused and turned his head a little. His fist was pulled back, blood smothered over his knuckles. There was a hunger in him. One that was satiated by death. He swung and a loud thwack echoed through the kitchen from the collision of his fist with Stile's already messed up face.

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