Chapter 12: A Novel Approach
Stiles' scream rang out through the empty parking lot as he felt the teeth from Donovan's jawed palm digging into the back of his shoulder. His eyes shifted and let off their blue glow as he tried to pull himself away but Donovan pushed him against the hood of the jeep, pinning him down. Blood and bits of Stiles' flesh begin to get sucked into his palm and it felt just as sweet and quenching as the werewolf security guard he feasted on before.
Donovan leaned in close to him. "Your flesh tastes even sweeter than the last werewolf I ate," he grunted.
Donovan would prove to Theo that all his worry and doubt was garbage. It didn't matter that Stilinski's kid was a werewolf. He might've needed help with than one werewolf from before, but he was now strong enough to pin Stiles all by himself. He didn't need any more help, especially from Theo. And after he ate this spastic runt, he would become even stronger. Strong enough to get rid of that rip off and eat Theo's smug face and tear those three masked men that tortured him and kept him locked up apart. No one would get in his way ever again.
Stiles tried to throw him off, but Donovan's tempered strength was successfully keeping Stiles pinned and his other arm flailed around helplessly, failing to reach for Donovan to make him let go. Through the pain, Stiles detected the smell of blood and dead flesh when Donovan breathed on him. Flesh and blood of a wolf. Stiles' eyes flashed blue again, but even brighter than before, spreading a bit out from his irises. His claws broke free and he went drove his hand back and struck at Donovan's thigh. The shock of the claws digging into his own flesh made Donovan hiss in pain and loosen his grip on Stiles, and Stiles quickly noticed the wrench he had used just a moment ago. He moved to grab it with his other hand and quickly swung it around and struck Donovan in the face, sending him down to the ground.
"Ahh," Stiles hissed after he hit him.
The strike sent a tremor up his arm, right to where his shoulder was wounded, and the shock of pain nearly made him drop the wrench. He quickly moved his opposite hand to it and quickly felt the stickiness of his blood and a small chunk of flesh missing through his torn shirt. The brightened glow from Stiles' eyes dimmed back to normal as he hissed where his fingers touched the cartilage in the center of the wound. At the edges, he felt the marks from…teeth. Stiles removed his hand and watched as his own blood dripped down from his fingers, to the pavement. But his eyes quickly went back on Donovan who was standing back up and turned to face him.
There was a grunt as Donovan stirred as he moved to get back to his feet. Donovan moved his other hand to his head where he was bleeding from a cut that he had gotten from getting hit with the wrench. "Bitch," he hissed. "Guess it must run in the family."
Stiles' blue eyes widened as he saw the rows of fangs peeking out from his mouth. Fangs that he recognized belonging to a Wendigo, with his lips and the corners of his mouth stained with blood. But that wasn't what was widened his eyes, it was the bloodied palm with the fanged jaws in the center of it. Donovan's hand was covered with his own blood and he was sure that he was seeing the teeth in his palm moving. Stiles had never seen or heard of anything like this. It sure hadn't been seen on any of the Walcotts.
'Chimera,' he thought to himself, realizing what was happening.
Donovan ran for him, but Stiles moved to meet his incoming punch with a block. When Stiles blocked him, Donovan went and threw himself at him, forcing Stiles to fall back flat to the pavement with a pained shout. The wound on his back burning and bleeding more intensely.
"I don't usually like to play with my food." Donovan smirked down at Stiles' pained face, his sharp teeth making him look extra monstrous. "But I have to say, I'm really enjoying it."
Stiles looked up and saw that Donovan was lowering his jaws to bite into him. He then quickly jammed the wrench, that he was still holding, right into Donovan's leg, slightly stabbing into his upper left thigh. Donovan screamed as he rolled off him.
"How about now?" Stiles hissed as he threw himself to his feet.
Donovan moved to yank the wrench out of his leg and threw it off to the side before looking over to see that Stiles was running for the school. He let out a frustrated growl and started to quickly limp on after him.
As they disappeared into the building, Theo moved out from his hiding space and went over to where they had just been. He spotted the discarded wrench on the pavement, slightly smeared with some of Donovan's blood. He smiled as he thought that could prove handy later on and grabbed it. He then quickly moved to follow and keep his eye on them.
Barely a minute after he took off, three figures slowly stomped over and stopped in front of the spot of blood left from Stiles' wound. The Surgeon went and pulled out a small syringe pump and moved it over to the spot of blood. He pulled on the plunger and began to collect as much of the blood that he could.
Donovan threw the school doors open and gazed down the dark halls but seeing and hearing no sign of Stiles anywhere. As he turned his head to the side, a jaw appeared at the side of his throat and it seemed to give him a better taste of the air. Stiles' blood hit him and the mouth soon disappeared. After it did, Donovan turned to look down a hall and started to limp down it.
As Stiles ran down the halls, he could feel the pain in his shoulder intensifying. He needed to find a place to hold up and heal. He found himself heading for the library. It was close by and he knew that its automatic doors would only open for someone with a school card. Plenty of places to hide and hold out too. It was perfect. He made it there and yanked out his card to swipe and then he quickly threw himself in. He went to lean against the librarian's desk and went to reach at his back. He found his shirt and had been torn through and pulled his hand back to see it wet with blood. Stiles ears perked up when he heard Donovan's stomps heading his way. He heard the guy stop in front of the library's doors and a moment later a beep from the card reader followed by the doors unlocking. Stiles ducked into a dark corner as Donovan opened the door and strolled on inside.
As Donovan moved to pocket the card, he decided that he wouldn't dwell on the small degree of help that Theo had given him but he would never tell him that. Not when he was going to go and finish Stiles off. The library was quiet and there was no sign of him anywhere, but Donovan knew he was here. It was so quiet that when a call came from Stiles' phone, the buzzing echoed slightly through the room.
"You dropped your phone," Donovan called out as he went to take a look at who was trying to reach Stiles. "It's Malia. Should I text her back?" he sarcastically asked out before he pocketed it. "You don't really know who I am, do you Stiles? Maybe you heard about my father. Did your dad tell you about him?" His tone started to get louder and angrier as he spoke. "Did Sheriff Stilinski ever tell you about the time he was still deputy and how his partner got caught in a shoot-out?! Did he tell you a bullet shattered my dad's T-9 vertebra?! Went right through his spinal cord? Know what that means? It means that everything below his waist is useless. And not just his legs. I bet he told you some of it."
From his hiding spot, Stiles grit his teeth as he began to smell the growing scents of resentment and bitterness leaking out of Donovan. The guy was right about one thing, his dad had told him some of what had happened. It was back when Donovan had failed his psych evaluation for the academy, and he had raised his first fuss about it. Stiles' dad and his old partner were on the trail of a handful of suspects in a small drug ring and chased them to a building in the warehouse district. His dad called for backup and suggested they wait but Donovan's father was too eager and went in without wanting to wait. That ended up with him getting shot.
But as Donovan kept going, it was clear to Stiles that he had his own version. His own twisted, hateful version.
"But I bet he probably left out the part where he was sitting in a car, calling for backup, while my dad went in alone. Did he tell you he was too scared?! Too much of a frightened little bitch to go in after him?! Or do scared little bitches not tell their little bitch sons about their failures?! About how they put their partner in a wheelchair for the rest of his LIFE?!"
Stiles felt his anger bubbling over him as he gripped his hands into tight fists. It was so tight that he claws dug into his palms and caused him to cut himself and blood started to flow. He looked down and saw the red drop on the ground and he took a deep breath and smelled the fresh scent of blood. His eyes softened as an idea came to him.
Donovan felt good, unloading everything that Stilinski had done to his family against his son and he was waiting for a response. But there was no reaction from any of it. Stiles was staying in hiding. He moved up the stairs to see if he was hiding upstairs. As he stepped through the top floor, he extended his hands out and both his palms sprouted fanged jaws to taste the air. He could taste the lupine blood in the air, but it wasn't coming from up here. It was coming from below. He quietly moved down the nearby banister and climbed down, moving through the shelves towards the smell. He smirked hungrily as he went and thrust his hands through the books to grab Stiles on the other side and grabbed nothing but air. He stuck his head through the shelf and saw Stiles wasn't there. His nose twitched and he looked over to the side to see some heavy bits of blood smeared on the bottom of the shelf. His eyes widened as he realized he had been tricked. He pulled his head out just in time to be see a shifted Stiles roaring and charging for him.
The two of them toppled out of the bookshelves and began rolling around until they pulled away from each other when they got to the center of the room. Stiles glared down at Donovan and let a small threatening growl loose from his throat. Donovan took a moment to stare properly at the teenage werewolf before he bared his own teeth out. His eyes went white and met Stiles' sapphire gaze. A moment later, they ran for each other.
Through the library's grand window, Theo was watching the events going on from the shadows. An amused smirk was plastered on his face as he watched Donovan throw a punch at Stiles chest, who retaliated with one to Donovan's nose. He had to admit, this was proving more entertaining than he thought it would. Things looked pretty close between them. Consuming Wilson Grant had given Donovan the boost he needed to go toe to toe with a werewolf on his own. Still, in the end it doesn't matter how this fight turns out, either outcome will help him with his plans. Still, he couldn't help but feel some part of him rooting for Stiles to emerge as the victor. He then moved to twirl the wrench he was holding a bit.
After getting a good kick at his side, Donovan stumbled back and let out a frustrated groan. He brought his hands out at his side with his palms facing out. Both of his palms then sprouted out fanged jaws and they seemed to start making chomping movement, as if hungering for fresh meat. Donovan ran for him, sticking his palms out, trying to grab at him. Stiles grabbed at Donovan's wrists, pushing on them as he struggled to keep Donovan's hands from grabbing onto his face. They started stumbling around, Donovan pushing on Stiles as he backed away, trying to keep himself getting bitten from the fangs in Donovan's mouth and palms. His back hit the scaffold, making some of the metal bars on the top jingle a bit as Stiles cried out from the impact.
Donovan smirked. "Don't worry, I won't eat all of you Stiles. I'll leave some pieces behind and I'll send them to your dad, one piece at a time. Your dad will wish he was dead, and once he does, I'll grant his wish and eat him too."
At the thought of his dad being mauled and torn apart by Donovan, Stiles let out a hard, angry growl. The claws on his hands began to grow in size and began to pierce into Donovan's wrists. Now Donovan made a pained cry of his own, and his legs buckled. Stiles then spun them around and pushed him hard into the scaffold, which made the stuff on top jingle even more, with a small metal pole begin to stick out a bit.
"You Won't Touch Him!" Stiles barked out in a deep voice that sounded almost nothing like his own.
Donovan quickly slammed his body right into Stiles, forcing him back a pace, before Donovan grabbed onto a bar from the scaffold, and used it to lift himself up and throw his two feet right into Stiles' chest. Stiles stumbled back and fell to down to his knees. Seeing his intended prey down, Donovan climbed up the scaffold a bit and then leapt off, with his jaws bared, the ones in his paws included, yelling as he flew right for him. Stiles lifted his head, showing his face had shifted into an even more bestial version, and his blue eyes shined as bright as they did before. In that moment, Donovan gasped and his form faltered. From the floor, Stiles leapt for Donovan with a hard roar and hit the chimera with a hard, fierce punch to the face. The force of it was so strong that Donovan flew off and crashed right into the scaffold. The impact made the whole structure jump and all the metal poles and equipment nestled on top began to topple and fall off.
Stiles landed on his feet and quickly rolled away to avoid getting hit by the falling debris. He covered his face as some dust started blowing his way but he could still hear the sound of the metal hitting the floor. But, he then started smelling fresh blood, and a lot of it. When the sound of falling poles ceased, he then slowly rose to his feet and turned around. He had kept his eyes closed until he finished turning around but if he had opened them earlier, Stiles would've seen the bestial wolf shadow he was casting on the floor. His face slowly shifted back to normal and his claws retracted as he saw that Donovan was suspended slightly from the floor, a metal pole piercing his chest. He could hear the sounds of his gurgling blood at his mouth and moved himself over to face him. Donovan's eyes flew down to him, glaring at him, as blood began oozing out from his mouth. Stiles just stood there, still breathing hard, watching Donovan and listening to the sound of his heart faltering. Eventually, the beating stopped. Once it did, the nerves in Donovan's body relaxed and he was no longer moving. Blood and mercury started to freely flow down the pole to the floor.
Stiles kept staring, feeling a wide and everchanging chain of emotion, and he didn't know how long it was for. Yet, when he finally managed to pry his eyes away, they went off to the side where he saw the phone at the librarian's desk and he went and ran for it.
"9-1-1, please state your emergency," he heard in the receiver. The dispatcher repeated when there wasn't any response. Stiles only breathed, letting it be heard to show that there was indeed someone on the line. "This is 9-1-1. This line is for emergencies only. If you do not have an emergency, then please hang up." But Stiles kept silent and kept the call on.
He then heard a different voice. "You want me to send a car out? What's the address?"
"It the school. Beacon Hills High," the dispatcher said back.
After that, the call disconnected. Stiles sighed heavily as he went to hang up the phone. He turned to look back at Donovan's impaled body before he made his move to leave before the police got there. He opened the door but quickly moved to leave a book to keep it barred open as they would need a school card to open it. Stiles then remembered that Donovan still had his phone and he moved back to him, to his body. Stiles avoided looking at Donovan's face as he moved to his pants' pocket and got it back. He saw that Malia was trying to call him back but he moved to cancel her call. He had to get out of there.
But Stiles went and looked back up at Donovan's face and saw that his eyes, his lifeless eyes were staring right back at him, with the glare lingering. Blood was also starting to pool down on the floor where the pole was thrust into the floor. He grit his teeth as he felt his pulse quicken a bit and he moved to run and get out of there as fast as he could. He ran out of the main doors and got to his jeep. In the distance, he could hear the distant sounds of a police car coming. He knew that if he tried to get away from the school now then he was sure to be spotted fleeing. And he couldn't have his jeep stay in the center of the parking lot as the deputies all knew what his jeep looked like. He was so consumed with nervous thought, that he didn't realize that the wrench he dropped before, as well as the small mess of his spilled blood, had both disappeared from the pavement.
Stiles quickly fixed up the pieces that were still loose in his battery and then shut the hood down before throwing himself into the driver's seat. He managed to back up and move his jeep into a dark corner before shutting his car off, just before a squad car pulled in. He was breathing quickly, letting his head drop and rest against his steering wheel as he tried not to let himself lose it right then and there. He couldn't be seen or caught there. His hands were still stained with blood and he was still bleeding a bit from the bite wound in the back, at his shoulder blade. He carefully watched as the car parked in front of the school and the deputy headed on inside. He nervously tapped at his steering wheel, alternating between muttering to himself and looking at himself in the mirror. He then saw the deputy coming back. He let his ears focus and listen to what he was saying.
"I'm 10-97 and there's no one here. It's a 653," he told dispatch.
"Roger that. Prank call. Return to your patrol."
Stiles widened his eyes at that. How could he think it was a prank call? Did he not find the body?
As soon as the squad car pulled away, went and got out and ran back inside. He got to the library and saw that Donovan's body was gone. Not only was it gone, but the blood and fallen metal bars had all been cleaned up. It was like nothing had even happened in there. Stiles blinked before he looked over at where the bars had been stacked neatly against the scaffold. He moved to one of them and ran his hand on it. He felt something and pooled back to find a single drop of Donovan's blood, still fresh.
What was going on?
Cora was cooing at Jason as she held the babe in her arms. He had been crying hard for the last ten minutes and wasn't showing any signs of stopping.
"Jason, what's wrong?" she said when it was clear that trying to cheer him up wasn't working. "Why are you crying so much?"
Cora wished that she could detect what was wrong with her senses but babies were different from adults or even teens and children. Their chemo signatures were always all over the place. It was hard to really detect what was wrong. It seemed that being a werewolf didn't give any advantages to this part of life.
Jason kept wailing about despite his mother's attempts. But then, he suddenly stopped. Cora was thrown at how Jason seemed to be settling down on his own. It was as if whatever problem that Jason was facing or feeling seemed to have abated all on its own. He then moved to snuggle against his mother's warm hold and Cora went to rub a soothing up and down motion along his back as she held him.
"It's okay," she told him. "It's over now. You're here with mommy."
But what was over? That's what Cora wanted to know.
She had called twice but Malia was still not getting an answer from Stiles. She had to tell him about the book she found at Tracy's. She looked down at the book in her hand, her eyes glued to the cover. The men in masks now had a name: The Dread Doctors. Stiles would want to know this as soon as possible, yet he wasn't answering her calls. He couldn't still be sleeping in the library at school, could he? Maybe his phone was off? That could be it. She wondered if she should try going to Stiles' place and check up on him. No, if Stiles was home then he was probably trying to sleep and she didn't want to disturb him. He had been pretty tired tonight and didn't want to bother him. If anything, she would catch up with him and the others tomorrow. It was best that she had back home. It looked like she had some late-night reading to do.
Scott was resting on his bed, his arms around Kira, but was having trouble getting to sleep. After leaving the hospital, he and Kira had gone back to his place to try and rest. But Scott's mind was still on what happened tonight at the club. Those three men in the masks, they had to have been who Malia had been talking about. They had shown up and killed Lucas, so quickly and casually. 'His condition was terminal'. That was what the man who killed him had said. And they called him a failure. What did that mean? Then there was what happened with Kira.
As soon as his thoughts fell on Kira, she had begun to mumble in her sleep. Scott rose his head and looked at her in worry as she was mumbling in Japanese. He was sure that Kira didn't speak Japanese. Just like he was sure that Kira would never go and try to kill somebody. If Scott hadn't stopped her, Kira would've driven her sword straight in for Lucas' heart. What was going on?
Before he could decide what to do, his phone started beeping. He reached for it, making Kira snap out of whatever dream state she was in as she turned to look at him.
"What's wrong?" she asked him.
Scott saw that there was an intruder alert sent to his phone. "It's an alarm at the animal clinic. I think it's a break-in."
Stiles made it back home and was relieved to find that his dad wasn't. The last thing he wanted to do right now was explain why there were tears in his clothes and spots of blood on them and on his hands. He quickly ran up to his room and pulled off his ruined shirt, feeling it peel off from where it had stuck to his skin. He stood in front of his mirror and turned around to look over at his back. He could see that there was still a small piece of flesh missing there from when Donovan had grabbed him. It wasn't bleeding anymore but there was dried blood over a good upper part of his back. Where he was bit looked like it might take a while for the flesh to regrow and the wound to fully heal as he could still feel some stiffness in his arm now that the adrenaline from his fight had worn off. He quickly stripped the rest of his ruined clothes off and threw himself in the shower.
For a few minutes, Stiles just let himself stand under the showerhead, letting the hot water run down and wash out the blood that clung to his body. As he looked down, he could see the traces of blood begin to move down the drain as it came off. He then started squirted every inch of his body with scented soap and body wash to try and remove any trace of the smell of blood that lingered on him. The smell was intoxicating, and he wanted it all gone. Not a trace to exist for him, or his friends to pick up.
When he was done, he moved to change his clothes and moved over for his crime board. He wrote in Donovan's name and made a note how it was possible he hadn't been dead and walked out after he had left him. As he stepped back and looked at it, he took a minute to consider it, before shaking his head. No, Donovan was dead. His heart had stopped, and Stiles hadn't seen any...light left in his eyes. He then moved to make a new note, one that said he was dead, and then that someone took his body. He took a moment to realize that if that was true, someone else had to have been there. Someone saw what had happened. He then decided that he couldn't have that note written so plainly on the board for anyone to see. He found himself quickly moving to erase it. As he did, he caught a reflection of himself on the board. He looked savage to his own eyes. And there was a dark look in his eyes. He quickly threw his eraser at his reflection, making a jolt go through his body, right to where his arm had been hurt. His breathing started to get harder and his pulse began to quicken. He began to lean on the board as it was starting to get almost too hard to breathe. Stiles began to want nothing more than to just throw his board and begin lashing out and wrecking everything around him. But he was snapped out of this train of thought when his phone began ringing again. He took a moment to regain his breath before he looked to see who it was, thinking it might be Malia again. It wasn't Malia calling though. It was Scott.
"Scott?" he coughed out.
"Stiles, someone is taking the bodies," Scott said hurriedly back to him. That made Stiles freeze up as he had just thought and written that only a minute ago. "Stiles? You there?"
Stiles shook himself out of it. "Yeah, um...what are you talking about?"
"I'm at the animal clinic with Kira. Tracy's body is gone. The lock on the door was broken from the outside. And my mom just told me that Lucas' body went missing from the morgue. They've been searching the whole hospital for it. Someone is stealing the bodies."
Stiles turned and looked at the space where Donovan's name had just been. So, he had been right. Somebody had taken Donovan's body, and seemed to be taking the other chimeras too. But who? Where? Why?
In the woods, Jordan Parrish was slowly getting out of his van and moving over to the back where he opened the door to reveal Donovan's body. It was taken out and after he had it in his grasp, he began moving off, deeper into the woods. He was looking on ahead with unblinking eyes, moving steady and mechanically as if in a trance. He wasn't stopping as he kept walking, with his eyes letting out a bright fiery orange glow, being the only light of the dark.
The following morning, Liam found he was a bit worried about Lori as she and her brother seemed to have had some trouble during the attack at Sinema and wanted to see if they were alright. Everyone else was busy trying to look for any traces of the missing bodies so he decided to head to see them alone.
He made it to Satomi's place and found that her pack was gathered around the front in a semi-circle, and every one of them had sullen looks on their faces. The Alpha was in the middle of this circle and her head was down and Liam could make out that she was speaking Japanese very softly. Her tone was soft and light, but Liam could feel the sadness and grief coming out of her. Coming out of everyone. He quickly found Brett and Lori off to the side and they looked sadder than he had ever seen them.
Liam waited until it seemed like Satomi dismissed the pack and they started to slowly disperse themselves. Some of them gave Liam a small nod as they saw or passed him as he headed over to Brett and Lori.
Brett lifted his face up to look at him as he made his way over. "Hey Liam," he said dryly. "What are you doing here?"
Liam saw that it wasn't with his usual, annoying dryness. Brett was really depressed. "I was worried about you guys. I mean, after what last night, I wanted to come and see if you two were alright."
"Far from it," Brett mumbled.
"Why? Did something happen?"
"I'm sorry." Lori let out a small sniffle as she moved to head into the house.
Her brother watched her go sadly while Liam grew more worried and concerned about what had happened. He then looked around and noticed that there was a member of the pack missing. "Where's Wilson?"
When Brett turned to catch Liam's eye, the grief that Brett was feeling increased tenfold. Liam knew what the answer was before Brett could even tell him.
A few minutes later, Liam found himself standing right outside Lori's room. The door was open and he could see that Lori was sitting at her desk, crying. Of course, she would be crying. Wilson, a man that both she and Brett saw not just as their pack's Second but as a big brother had been killed. They had all felt when he had been killed the previous night, which explained what happened with them during Lucas' attack. Liam sighed and moved to softly knock on the door. That made her look up and quickly wipe at her eyes.
"Sorry," she said in a cracked voice as she stood up.
He didn't give Lori a chance to say anything else as he moved to wrap his arms around her and pull her into a tight hug. As he held her, Lori moved to rest her head in his shoulder and resumed her crying. Liam moved his hand up and down her back, as well as tightening her hold on him while she squeezed back.
Liam looked over and saw that there was a photo on the bed where Lori had laid. He saw that it was of her and her brother, both a few years younger, with Wilson behind them. They all smiling as Wilson had his arms wrapped around them both. He would make sure that he helped them find out who did this and make them pay.
Lydia was happy to be out of the hospital and back at school that Monday. Her mother had suggested that she take a few more days to rest but she had enough of rest. She quickly met up with Malia and she showed her the book she found at Tracy's house.
"The Dread Doctors, by T.R. McCammon," she read aloud.
Lydia suddenly stopped as she tilted her head, studying the image on the cover.
"What?" Malia asked out in concern.
"I don't know. There's something about it," she said, slowly starting to walk again. "Has anyone actually read it yet?"
"Well, there's me and I showed it to my dad too. Neither of us could understand any of it."
Malia would admit that she wasn't the best reader around, but this story was hard to follow. Her father told her that it seemed hard for him to keep reading as he found his attention drifting off around a few parts.
"Well, we should probably all read it," suggested Lydia.
Malia nodded. "Kira's working on it. I showed it to Stiles the other day, but he says that he can't find anything on the author because it's a pen name."
Lydia then began to read the plot summary aloud.
"In a small New England town, teenagers are taken in the night and buried alive. Days later, they emerge transformed, wreaking havoc and spreading terror, commanded by an ancient order of parascientists known only as the Dread Doctors." She took a moment to swallow nervously. "Sounds vaguely familiar. How does it end?"
"It doesn't. This is supposed to be volume one."
"Oh, let me guess, there is no volume two?" asked Lydia, rolling her eyes.
"Uh, I think we're living volume two," she put in a bit fearfully.
"Then maybe the real question is, is this a novel or someone's prediction?"
Over in the library, Kira was over at the photocopier, making multiple copies of the book's pages and organizing them to give out to everyone. As she finished with the last one, Scott came up to her.
"Done?" he asked.
"Done," she nodded.
As she left the machine, the librarian came over and threw Kira a short and annoyed look. She then moved to put a sign on the machine indicating that it was out of ink.
"Sorry," she quickly apologized before she walked off with Scott.
"I don't think the Dread Doctors are the ones stealing the bodies," he told her.
"Are we really calling them that?" Kira looked around nervously, hoping they weren't being eavesdropped on.
Scott kept going like she hadn't said anything. "Think about it. They killed Tracy and walked away. They killed Lucas and walked away. Why would they leave and come back to take the bodies?"
"Someone else has to be taking them."
Scott narrowed his eyes. "But the bodies aren't just bodies. They're...failures."
"So, if the chimeras are all failures, what's the success going to be?"
Scott dreaded to find out, pun not intended. "Bad. Probably really bad."
They made it to the door but Scott just stopped. He looked back out at the library with a troubled look on his face.
"What's wrong?" Kira asked him.
"I thought I smelled blood." Yet, everything in the library seemed normal. There was nothing to show that anything was happening. He then shook his head. "Forget it. Must've imagined it."
But Scott hadn't imagined it. He had smelled some leftover blood from the previous night. A student had pulled out a book from a shelf and had disturbed a collection of coagulated blood left over from Stiles' trap. The student didn't even seem to notice it either.
Scott and Kira then left and went to look for Theo so they could update him on what was happening. They found him and the three went to the boy's locker room where they knew they could be alone for a little while. There, they went and gave him a copy of the book right before they told him of everything that had happened after the attack at the station by Tracy.
Theo was attentive and acted as if everything they were telling him was all news to him. Scott didn't blink or seem to feel anything wrong with him at all and Theo found he wasn't trying as hard as he would have if it had been Stiles with him instead of Kira.
"Sorry but I'd never even heard of the Kanima until a few days ago," he calmly told them after they had finished explaining. He then looked at the stack of papers in his hand. "You want me to read this?"
Scott shook his head. "Well, not yet. I'm still only on chapter one."
"You guys do this a lot, huh?" he asked him.
Scott blinked. "Do what?"
"Get involved."
Scott then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
As Scott took a moment to think about it, he thought that was all he and his friends ever seem to do, get involved with whatever trouble came around in this town. Ever since that night that he and Stiles had gone to the woods. A part of him wasn't too sure how he felt about that right now. And he also wasn't sure that he wanted to keep doing it.
"What about the author?" Theo asked, putting Scott's mind back on track. "I mean, if he knew all about these guys then should we be talking to him?"
"Yeah, we thought about that, but it's pretty much a dead end."
Theo nodded before he started flipping through the pages. He suddenly stopped at the end. "What about this guy?"
Scott looked over and saw that Theo was at the book's Acknowledgements page. His eyes widened at the name that was there. He then showed it to Kira and her eyes widened too. Scott began to read it aloud.
"For providing scientific perspective and invaluable insight this book is dedicated to Gabriel Valack."
"You know him?" Theo asked.
"Yeah, and I know where to find him."
During his free period, Stiles had found himself walking into the library. He couldn't help but find it ludicrous that there were kids moving around, at ease, where Donovan tried to kill him less than 12 hours ago. He looked down at the floor and found that there was a small crack in the spot where the pole dug into when Donovan had been impaled.
The construction worker at the scaffold was looking a little perplexed at a dent in one of the support bars in middle of the structure. "What the hell happened here?" he muttered almost to himself.
Stiles had a flash of himself leaping at Donovan and launching him at that spot with all his strength. So much strength that it caused the poles on the top to fall and one to impale him. He then looked over to see that there was still a small crack on the floor from where the pole had imbedded itself to the floor. His eyes then went up and he could see Donovan with the pole still in him, staring hard at him. Stiles kept his gaze on him before he felt a tap on his shoulder.
"Ahh," he jumped before he calmed down when he saw that it was Liam.
He quickly stepped back and held up his hands. "Sorry," he quickly apologized.
But Stiles shook his head. "No, it's okay. What's up Liam?"
Liam's expression was sullen. "I tried to call you all weekend."
"Yeah, I was out trying to look for those Dread Doctors. Why?"
"Something's happened."
Stiles realized that there was sadness and grief all over Liam, both from him and others. He then tensed up.
"What?"
After school, Theo immediately went to the Doctors' lair to give them the latest report. The three of them seemed to have been waiting for him when he arrived.
"The book worked. And now, they're going to see Valack. They're going tonight."
"To Eichen," the Surgeon grumbled though his mask.
He then went to give the subject in his cryotube a look, as if to silently tell him that their plan was working. He then looked over at the work bench, where the small vial of blood collected at the school was sitting. It seemed that the experiments he wanted to conduct with it would have to wait. But perhaps there might be an opportunity to procure even more, tonight.
Henry Tate was chopping and lining up blocks of wood outside his house. The sun was starting to dim so he wanted to get this all done before night fell. He knew that Malia was going to be out working on her schoolwork. At least, that's what she told him. There was a chance that she, and her friends, were going to be out trying to dig up more about these so-called Dread Doctors. Most likely by reading that book Malia showed him. He let a small shiver loose when the thought of that book came back to him. As a teen, he loved watching and reading horror stories, but the story of that book was far from enjoyable or interesting. He was barely able to get to the fourth chapter before he found he couldn't read anymore. Yet, he felt disturbed as soon as he stopped.
He went and brought his axe down on another block of wood and rose his head up to take a breath when he froze. In the trees, he could make out a pair of glowing blue eyes trying to hide in the brush.
"Malia?" he called out. But the eyes weren't moving.
When there was no answer, he moved for them but heard the sound of a car horn and looked over to see that there was a sedan in front of his house. Not just any sedan, but his family's old one. The driver's seat window was down, and he saw that his late wife was waving bye at him as she was beginning to drive off, and he could make out two little girls in the back seat. He looked back to the brush and saw that the eyes seemed to be following the car.
"Wait!" Henry cried out as he tried to go after the car.
But the car was gone, and so were the eyes. He blinked his eyes rapidly and found that there was no sign of car or that anything had been hiding in the brush.
"What was that?" he mumbled to himself.
"There's no discussion Lydia, I'm going," Stiles said stiffly.
"Stiles, you should stay and try and get some sleep. You're tired," Lydia said back to him.
They were both in Stiles' bedroom where they were arguing about her plan to go Eichen House to question Valack with Scott and Kira. Stiles didn't want them to go alone as Valack had a freakish third eye drilled into his forehead. Lydia knew that the place held bad memories and feelings for Stiles after his possession. Hell, it held bad memories for her too when she had been held hostage by that maniac orderly Brunski over six months ago.
Stiles narrowed his at her. "I'm fine," he said before throwing a shirt on over his T-shirt.
"Stiles, something has been bothering you all day and I know what it is," she said, making him stop and stare at her.
Stiles got scared. Did Lydia know? Could she know about what happened with him and Donovan? She was a banshee. She probably felt or sensed his death around him or at school.
"Wilson," she said to him. "I didn't know him very well, but I knew that you did. And so did Liam. He's upset about him too."
Stiles let a deep sigh out. While he was feeling a bit relieved that Lydia wasn't talking about Donovan, he couldn't help but get upset when the news of Wilson's death came back to him. That was what Liam had wanted to talk to him about at school today. Apparently, he had been killed Friday night, just one day after the two of them had their little talk together in the woods.
"Yeah, I know. He told me that he was going to stay with them tonight," he muttered out.
"And they still don't know who killed him?"
Stiles stiffened inwardly again. He knew perfectly well who killed Wilson. Donovan had told him that he had eaten another werewolf when he attacked him and Stiles remembered the scent of blood and flesh in his breath. He put the pieces together and realized that Donovan had killed Wilson, but he couldn't say how and why he knew that. Not without telling everyone what had happened.
"No," he said.
"Maybe I could help," she suggested. After all, she did something similar for Araya with her abilities back in Mexico.
"Yeah, maybe," mumbled Stiles. "And anyway, I'm still going. Remember what happened when Deaton paid Valack a visit?" The man had almost gone into a coma.
"We'll be fine," Lydia told him. "You don't have to come. Malia isn't going either."
"Yeah, she isn't going because Malia knows that place is a nightmare asylum full of insanity and death. Okay."
Stiles grabbed for his sweater and furiously threw it on over his shoulders and winced as he felt a sharp sting from the back of his left shoulder. The skin from wound had nearly all come back. He guessed that healing from cuts and gunshots were different than healing from having a part of you get torn and eaten by a shapeshifting cannibal. The last two days his skin back had begun regenerating slowly and there was still some residual pain from if he stressed his shoulder. He had been careful to hide it all weekend, but Lydia had just noticed.
"What was that?" she asked him.
Stiles moved to finish pulling his sweater on. "What was what?" he asked, trying not to sound defensive.
"You winced."
"Just a stiff elbow," he shrugged.
"It was your shoulder."
"Pain radiates Lydia."
"Pain? You just said it was a stiff shoulder."
"Pain, aches, stiffness, it's all the same thing. Let's just go," he barked harshly at her. That made her stiffen up and he closed his eyes as he tried to settle himself down. It wasn't right to bite Lydia's head off when she was just trying to show concern for him. "Sorry...it just hasn't been a good time lately," he apologized.
"Right," she mumbled.
Lydia visibly gave in and Stiles moved to head out. As Stiles passed her, Lydia's eyes glazed over as she heard what sounded like a distant but hard, wolfish growl. She then looked down and saw that there were bloody wolf paw prints, and they led out in the direction that Stiles just walked out the room in. She just stared until she heard Stiles call out her name from downstairs and ask if she was coming or not. She blinked and the bloody paw prints were gone. She then called out that she was on her way and moved to leave the room herself.
Scott and Kira were looking around his room for her missing belt. She wasn't going to a madhouse like Eichen House without it.
"I don't see it anywhere," Scott said as he moved some things around on the floor.
Kira was checking the bed. "I left it here. I know I did. I woke up and you said, "Don't forget your belt"."
"Are you sure? I don't remember saying that."
"You don't remember saying a lot of things," she mumbled. Her thoughts on what Scott had said to her at Sinema. That he loved her.
Scott looked over at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means...nothing," she said shaking her head. "Forget it."
She then moved to throw herself on his bed and he bent down to face her. He can smell the anxiety and fear starting to bubble up inside of her.
"You okay?" he asked her in concern.
"Can you do me a favor? Can you look at me with your eyes?"
He smiled. "I am," he tried to remind her.
But Kira didn't smile back. "I mean your other eyes. Just...tell me what you see."
Scott's face fell. Kira wanted him to see her aura. Scott stood up and Kira moved to stand a few paces away. He focused and let his eyes shift and looked over at Kira. He saw her inner fox. It looked different from what he remembered. Before, it looked so nimble and elegant. But now, it seemed bigger and…wilder. He averted his eyes down and then noticed her belt on the floor.
"What?" Kira said, noticing how he looked away. "Did you see something?"
Scott bit back a swallow. "Yeah, I found your belt." He then moved to pick it up and hand it to her. "Everything else is fine," he told her. "Ready?"
She strapped her belt on and then nodded. He then moved to leave the room, his expression turning to one of concern and worry as soon as his back faced Kira.
Virgil went and slammed his fist into his work locker. His boss just asked him to work late and alone, Again, and said that it wouldn't be for overtime, AGAIN. Needless to say, Virgil was pissed. He tried to remind his boss that he said he wouldn't do that again but the bastard feigned ignorance about it, though Virgil knew the man's memory was like a steel trap. He tried to say he would make it up to him with a full repair job, on the house, but Virgil already had that promise on the table but didn't bother reminding him because he would no doubt play ignorant, AGAIN. Virgil knew that the only reason he was offering that was because he knew that Virgil would never use it. He kept both his bike and his father's car in tip top shape. He was really getting sick and tired of dealing with this guy and his condescension with him. Always acting he was doing him a favor because he had a 'record'.
Thinking of that, Virgil only got angrier. That was always going to be hovering over him. And why? Because he was a good and loyal friend to a complete ass. He ripped off his jacket and threw into his locker harder than necessary. Then he went and rested his forehead against the cool metal and took a few deep, calming breaths. Try as he might, Virgil could never forget his former friend. Or what the guy had done to him. And who knew if Virgil ever was a stray thought in his head?
When he settled, Virgil went to pick his jacket up to hang it on the hook. As he lifted it up, one of his tarot cards fell out. His eyes narrowed when he saw it fell not upright or reversed, but perfectly horizontal to him.
"The Moon," he read after picking it up. "Means a time of illusion, deception and fear when upright. And means intuition, insomnia and release of mental blocks when reversed."
But the card was neither. His grandmother mentioned that sometimes she had unclear predictions with her cards. This could mean that everything was in flux and it could eventually land either way. Or, there were opposing forces at work at the same time. But was this omen for him, or for someone else in this town? Or...something?
"Hello? Anyone there?" Lydia asked as she hit the button on the gate intercom with Kira by her side.
Scott and Stiles were waiting off by the jeep and Scott's bike as they looked up at the building. Even after six months, this place still gave Stiles the creeps.
"You going to be okay in there?" Scott suddenly asked him.
Stiles blinked at him. "Yeah, why?"
"You just seem a little off."
Stiles fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Yeah, I think we're all a little off. Maybe some of us more than others." His eyes then went over to Kira, making Scott turn to look over at her too. "What happened?"
"When the other chimera, Lucas, when he came after us, I heard Kira say something in Japanese."
He shrugged. "That doesn't sound too bad."
"She doesn't know any Japanese," Scott pointed out.
"Still not terrible."
"I also think I might have stopped her from killing Lucas."
"Okay." Stiles then narrowed his eyes a bit. He heard about what happened at Sinema. Lucas had poisoned his own boyfriend Corey and then gone after Mason before attacking Liam, Brett and Lori. "But, wasn't he trying to kill everyone else though? I mean, that just sounds like self-defense."
"It was more than that. I mean, she nearly took off his head."
Stiles couldn't help but think of how Donovan had wanted to kill and eat him. Sure, he didn't plan for that stuff to fall and kill Donovan, but he found that he wasn't sorry it happened. The guy had wanted to eat him, and then go do the same to his father. Kira was trying to protect everyone like he was trying to protect his father.
"Well maybe she felt that she had no choice. Kira just wanted to keep everybody safe. There's got to be a point where self-defense is justified. Tracy, she killed her own father, therapist and near half dozen other people, including Malia. And Lucas would have killed you."
Scott narrowed his eyes a bit. "They're not the bad guys. They're the victims. We shouldn't be killing people we're trying to save."
Stiles stiffened up. Victims. He called Tracy and Lucas victims. Called Donovan a victim. And what was Mr. Stewart? Those cops at the transport? The therapist? Lydia and her mom? Malia? Or Wilson? All of them were the real victims. Tracy, Lucas and Donovan chose to hurt and kill them all. And yet Scott was saying they weren't bad guys? Calling them the victims?! Stiles found himself clenching his hands into tight fists.
Scott felt a rise in tension and anxiety coming off from Stiles and heard the knuckles in his friends' hands crack as he tightly fisted them. "Stiles?"
He looked up to see that Stiles' eyes were shifted and found his eyes moving away from the sapphire gleam. Stiles grit his teeth when he saw Scott do that and he let out a frustrated grunt as he moved to throw himself into his jeep. He was relieved that it started up right away with no problem and moved to drive away without another word.
Lydia and Kira let their eyes follow after Stiles' jeep until it disappeared down the road before looking back at Scott.
"What just happened?" Kira asked him.
Scott shook his head. "I don't really know," he mumbled out as he kept staring out to where Stiles drove off. What was up with Stiles all of a sudden?
But none of them got much of a chance to dwell on it as they heard a buzz and the front gate became unlocked.
"Let's go. I'll call Jordan and ask for him to come by." She would need to find a new ride back.
The three of them then moved to make their way into Eichen House.
A/N: I hope you liked the fight between a werewolf Stiles and the chimera Donovan. I wanted it to feel like a real fight to the death, yet, still have it not be an intentional death blow from Stiles to end it. Also, how will it be now that Stiles isn't going to be in Eichen House? After all, he couldn't go see Valack now anyway due to the mountain ash, so I didn't want him to just be standing out with Scott and Kira. Besides, I have something else in mind for him to do with storming out.
