One Week Later…

The Dalmation puppy cowered in the corner of the abandoned building. From the looks of it, it had been through some severe trauma from its matted fur, damage to its left eye, and dried blood on its fractured, front right leg. It saw the tall stranger approaching him and growled.

"It's okay," Eli said slowly. "I'm not gonna hurt you." Kneeling between the scattered junk of trash, metal beams, broken plaster, and cardboard boxes, the teen reached out its arms to the puppy.

The Dalmation angrily snapped back, forcing Eli to pull away.

"Whoa cowboy!" Allison placed a comforting hand to the teen's shoulder. "The puppy's just scared. The poor thing looks like it's been through a lot. Give him a minute to warm up so we can build trust."

"Allison's right," Scott McCall stepped in. "The little guy won't come if we just grab him." He pulled out a leash. "Let me see if I can settle him down before we head in there."

The hurt Dalmation growed again, limping on its damaged leg as Scott maneuvered his way through the series of junk blocking his way and toward the puppy. Kneeling down on the dirty concrete, the Alpha smiled and allowed his lycanthrope eyes to glow red as if the puppy understood every command.

"It's all right, little guy," Scott said softly. "We just want to help."

Comprehending each command from the Alpha, the puppy managed to limp and crawl toward Scott until finally reaching the werewolf and allowing him to place the leash around the Dalmation's neck. Once secured and safe, Scott scooped the puppy in his arms and made his way back to his colleagues.

"Open your hand and get the food ready," Allison instructed Eli. She grabbed a small packet of treats and dumped a pile into his awaiting palms. Once down, Scott placed the hurt Dalmation into Eli's arm to which the puppy ravenously gobbled up every bit of food morsel in the teenager's hands.

"Damn, he was hungry," Eli remarked. As the puppy shivered and comfortably settled into his arms, the teen turned to Scott. "How did you get him to calm down?"

"It's an Alpha thing," Allison interrupted with a smile. "You wouldn't understand."

Eli frowned. "You gotta show me that trick one day." He sighed and caressed the hurt pooch in his arms.

"We'll start with the basics first," Scott shrugged. "Right now, there's a water bowl in the van and we need to get him to Deaton to get treated."

The left the abandoned building located in the rough area of Los Angeles, got inside the van parked outside, and drove to the animal shelter owned and operated by Dr. Alan Deaton.

Placing the hurt pooch on the medical counter, Deaton began to examine the puppy.

"Trauma to the leg," he noted. "Fracture, possibly from being hit by car and the damage to the eye looks like another wild dog attacked him. Sadly, he is permanently blind in one eye."

"But he's going to be okay?" Eli asked in concern.

"Certainly," Dr. Deaton replied. "Scott and Allison always bring in rescues and with a little TLC, they always seem to recover. Now the true test is getting them adopted."

Allison pressed her face to the nervous Dalmation. "Who wouldn't want to adopt this little cutey?"

"Someone with no heart," Eli scowled. "We still have dogs that have been here for over a year that have yet to find a home."

Scott shrugged. "Have a little faith, Eli. They'll all get adopted. Somebody's gonna want to bring them home."

A serious Dr. Deaton turned to Scott. "I appreciate your optimism, Scott, but let's discuss something the elephant in the room." He shifted his gaze to Eli. "When is he going back to school? He's already missed a semester, even though it was due to a family emergency, but he's still a minor and needs to get his education."

"I'm going back!" Eli protested. "I'm in the process of starting classes when school starts again!"

Allison nodded. "Eli's right. We filed the paperwork last week. He'll have to repeat a grade but now that Scott and I have taken over the role as his legal guardians, we're getting him back on track."

"Then there's always a GED program," Eli added. "I mean it worked for some elected officials."

Scott scowled. "No! You're getting your high school diploma! Your dad would've wanted it that way!"

Eli put up his hands. "Okay! I won't be a dropout but if an international record company wants me to join their boyband in Korea, I'm hopping on the next plane out!"

Scott folded his arms and shook his head. "You know you don't speak Korean."

"Or sing," Allison giggled. "Stick to downloading music on Songify."

Eli scratched the back of his head. "Remind me never to cut you a portion of the money if I become famous." He clucked his tongue. "Now excuse me, while I go to my room." Quickly, he dashed out of the examination room.

A minute passed as Deaton's brows furled with a realization. "Did he just use an excuse to get out doing more work?"

Allison folded her arms and scowled. "Damn, he just pulled a Stiles?"

Scott snickered. "I guess he did."

Seattle, Washington

Yellow caution tape a section of the Schmitz Preserve Park of the Old Growth Forest. For 250 years, the multi-layered trees, plants, and canopies have nourished the landscape of the Pacific Northwest and Washington State. Now, it housed a homicide as police and F.B.I. agents surrounded the area with vehicles, tools, and equipment.

Agent Stiles Stillinski and his rookie partner of two years, Mason Hewitt, crossed the barrier to speak to their boss and leader, Senior Special Agent Rafael McCall. He looked at the body bag being carried away as forensics and other operatives began to comb the area.

"Mr. Stillinski and Mr. Hewitt!" Senior Special Agent McCall formally addressed his fellow operatives. "Looks like our serial killer struck again."

"Same M. O.?" Mason asked his superior.

Agent McCall handed Stiles the file as he quickly flipped through it.

"Victim was ripped apart like a wild animal attacking his prey," Stiles noted. "Could've ordered takeout instead. Would've been cheaper and less messy."

Agent McCall managed to smile at the comment before returning to his professional demeanor. "In all seriousness, we managed to find this on the victim." He reached in his pocket to show the pair a photo of a triskelion symbol on the skin. "Know what this means?"

Stiles stared at the photo intently and knew exactly what it meant. Sensing his partner's energy, Mason easily pick up on it.

"What is it?" He asked his partner

Agent McCall scowled. "You know something don't you?" He quickly pulled Stiles by the arm to the other side of the woods, followed by Mason in tow, to a secluded spot by the trees and began to whisper. "It's something supernatural, isn't it?"

Stiles exhaled and nodded without saying a word.

"I knew it!" Their boss said in a whisper. "The other victims sported these tattoos and we thought it was part of a cult ritual but this runs much deeper." He checked to see if any of the other agents and officers were nearby before addressing the topic. "Ever since I found out that werewolves, cryptids, and other supernatural entities were real, I made sure this stayed out of the government's radar. I'm protecting my son, even though Scott and I don't have the best relationship, my job as his father is to make sure he's safe. Tell me what you know."

"There's Bigfoot," Stiles remarked, changing the subject. "We don't know if Sasquatch exists…"

"Stiles!" Agent McCall yelled.

"Okay, okay," said Stiles with a shrug. "The triskele or triskelion is a Celtic symbol most associated with the Hale family and members of their pack. Since the family's death, the pack has scattered and, with the exception, a few surviving family members, no one knows where any of them are."

Mason immediately jumped in. "And currently, the only surviving members of the Hales are Peter, Cora, and Derek's son, Eli,"

"Yeah," agreed Stiles. "Last I heard Cora and Peter and his daughter, Malia, went to Europe, and kept a low profile. Eli is in Los Angeles with Scott and Allison."

"Any of them are connected to these murders?" Mason suggested this particular case.

Agent McCall shrugged. "We can't rule them out. We would need a motive though. Why would they murder their own?"

"Alpha territory," Stiles guessed. "However, Peter and Cora are too weak and proved they couldn't handle leading a pack. And Eli is too young and inexperienced in his power. I would rule them out."

"And Malia?" asked Agent McCall. "What about her?"

Stiles shook his head. "Still too weak. She's a were-coyote. She's not as strong as her father, Peter. This killer is targeting specifically members that are or were once part of the Hale Pack." He went down the list. "Two victims in Montana. Three in Idaho. Two, including this third victim in Washington." He paused. "The killer is going down the list and I think he or she is targeting Eli next which means…"

The realization hit Agent McCall. "Scott is in trouble!" He quickly addressed Stiles and Mason. "Head down to L. A. and call for backup if needed. If this killer is indeed targeting Eli, then we need to be prepared since we don't know what thing we're up against. Tell no one." He stopped. "I'll make up something with the department but, for now, keep this quiet between us three. Agreed?"

Stiles and Mason nodded in unison. "Agreed."

"Good," said their superior firmly. "Book your flights and accommodations and keep me posted." The duo began to walk away. "One more thing." They pause mid-walk. "Stay safe."

I am Kuzunoha. Some say I am a goddess. Others say a demon but I simply exist to tell a story. And this tale is not yet completed.

For you see, I said this was a story of trials, tribulation, pain, and love.

We are simply scratching the surface, for there is more.

Mieczylaw "Stiles" Stillinski has yet to meet his destiny.

A path readied for him for an adventure.

A journey into another world.

Another life.

Another love.