Chapter 28: The Supermoon
Noah Stilinski could barely make out where he was or how long he had been there. All he could make was the sharp pain he felt at his side and the sticky feeling of his own blood on his hands. His mind wandered to try and make sense of how he ended up here.
Earlier, he had had gone to the Raeken house to try and get some answers after he got that call from Rafael McCall. As soon as he got there, the Sheriff knew that something was immediately off. For one thing, Noah noticed that this home hardly had any photos anywhere. Any that he did spot, were of Theo but they seemed pretty recent. Not one of their daughter, Theo's sister Tara. He did manage to spot one framed photo in the living room of the Theo with his parents, but it also looked recent and Noah felt the smiles were too well done around the parents, like they were trying a little too hard. Just like they seemed to have tried hard to be smile as they had welcomed him to their kitchen. They soon got to talking and after about an hour, Noah had them contacting Theo and telling him to come on back home as the Sheriff wanted to talk to him. When they heard him get back, Noah quickly took note how nervous and scared they were, not even bothering to keep up the happy and friendly fascade anymore.
"Mr. Stilinski, what's going on?" Theo asked as he came into the room.
Noah could see that Theo was trying to keep up his little act but Noah had no more patience for it as he drew his gun and pointed it right at him. "It's Sheriff Stilinski right now, and to what's all this about, I think that's something you should be explaining, don't you?"
Theo rose his hands up in the air with a flushed look coming over him. "Uh, Sheriff, I don't know what you're talking about?"
"I got a very interesting call earlier today, from Scott's father. Did you know that he's an FBI agent?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I did. What's that got to do with anything?"
"Oh, well it turns out, Stiles had gone behind all of our back and reached out to him and asked for a favor."
Theo kept his hands raised and expression soft, but the air around him seemed to heat a bit. "A favor?"
"Yeah, and surprisingly, McCall actually went and came through."
Sharing what McCall had found, that records of Theo and his parents seemed to have vanished barely a month after they had left Beacon Hills eight years ago. Not only that but he had cross-checked all the information on the application forms that Theo had submitted to the school and while it was enough to fool the school, it was quickly found to be false when checked by the federal database.
Theo tried to still defend himself and think that this all was just a big mistake but Noah responded by slamming his son's ID card on the table.
"You remember your sad, and tragic tale of meeting Donovan at the school that night? The school logs in when ID cards are used. That night, my son's ID card was used first, and then yours. When I asked Stiles about it, he said he lost it days ago. But, the hospital's cleaning staff found it in the trash just the other day, after I had asked him about it. If he tried to hide it, that means he was trying to protect someone. I doubt it was you he was protecting. Or that called the station, as that missing from your story." He then pulled the safety on his gun back. "That wasn't you in that story, that was my son. He used your card to chase him into the school, which he got when you gave it to him. To set him up to be killed or to kill him."
Theo dropped his head for a moment before he brought his face back up into a smirk right before he charged at him. A shot went off but it simply grazed Theo's shoulder but Noah was grabbed at his throat and started to get choked. Theo then went and threw a right hook across his temple and made him drop down to the floor. As Noah felt himself slip, he could barely make out some pleading cries from the Raekens before there was a distant sound of screaming as he blacked out.
After that, his memories got hazy but he eventually found himself now sprawled out across a stone cold floor, bleeding as he had been attacked and mauled in this dark space. He was stuck in pain as he held one of his hands up to a wound on his side to try and stem his bleeding as he distantly remembered from his old army days. He tried to stay calm and not do anything to make it worse. His son and his friends were out there. Noah just had to hold out long enough for them to find him. They would find him. That's what his boy and friends did.
Hours passed and he felt himself slipping again and he could barely keep himself awake. His heart rate picked up as he heard some shouting and then some roaring. The kind he knew could only come from a werewolf.
"Dad?!" he heard call out. "Dad!" It was his son.
Noah let a smile worm his way into his face before he caught a flash of blue light off the corner of his eye. He cringed as he struggled to try and turn himself to get a better look at the doorway. Something seemed to collide with the air in front of it and a wall of blue light seemed to go up and push against it, barring it entry, repeatedly. He then hissed as the pain from his wounds grew stronger and more blood started to flow. Noah felt his heart start to get weaker and he could barely stay conscious and the sounds of Stiles trying to get in started to get fainter. Soon, his focus was on trying to stay awake but he felt the need to slip just get stronger and stronger. Soon, all he couldn't even keep his eyes open and barely hear or feel his own breathing.
The next thing he knew, he was feeling something warm fall into his open palm and against his face. Suddenly, he seemed to get a sudden rush of strength out of nowhere. Just enough to let Noah open his eyes. He could dimly see some bright honey colored eyes staring down at him. He let out a deep relieved breath before the urge to rest won out.
Virgil was calmly sitting down at the opposite side of his boss Richard's desk calmly waiting for him to say something. Though, right now, it seemed like the man was content with just glaring at him. Virgil didn't want to spend all night just being leered at so he thought he might as well move this along and get it over with.
"You wanted to see me?" he said, breaking the silence.
Richard took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. "No, I didn't want to see you Edelman. That would imply that I enjoy being in your company."
"My mistake," he said, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.
"Yes, and not your only one today it seems. You had also gone and used one of our tows to pick up this vehicle and brought it to the shop just before you left."
He then moved to pick up a photo of the jeep he towed for Stilinski that morning.
Virgil nodded. "Yeah, I brought that here. I thought that was our job."
"It is, when its done correctly. First, you left the garage unattended. Then, you went and brought it back here and didn't even charge the client. And, you left it to be put up for inspection, again without charging the client."
"Oh, well I'm sorry sir. There was no one else here and the guy needed some help. And I know him, or at least his father. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal. As for not charging him-" Virgil went and shrugged. "I guess I just forgot. I mean, I was just given and trained on tow duty last night and I was in a hurry to close up. It was an honest mistake."
"A mistake, really?" he said a bit accusingly. Virgil simply stared at him with a blank look in his eye. "Well, I hope you know that I'll have to take this all out of your pay."
"Yeah," Virgil nodded. "Or, you could probably just take it out of all the OT that you still owe me and weren't paying me for."
"Don't start with me Edelman," he warned.
"Or, how about the money you've been skimming from the overtime you cut from Eric and the others. You know, by having me overlap their extra hours."
The man then pointed an angry finger at him. "Don't push me boy. You're damn lucky to even be here."
"No, I'm here because I'm good at my damn job. Luck had nothing to do with it."
"Really? I didn't think felon punks were such an asset," he countered, spitefully.
Virgil then smiled savagely, even if he wanted to full out glare at the man. Unlike with Sheriff Stilinski, calling him a felon as a harmless joke, Richard just said it like it was the worst thing he could call him.
"I'm no felon."
"Really, so you didn't managed to sleaze your way out of prison by killing some innocent woman."
"I didn't kill any woman. I'm innocent."
"I'm sure that's what you conned some idiot behind a desk to believe. But that's what people like you are."
"People like me?" he almost spit.
"Street punks that prey on good, decent people. Like my wife." He then looked over at a picture of a woman framed behind his desk. "Hannah was her name. We were only married for five months. I was waiting for her to come back home from work but she never did. She had been mugged and shot by street punks just four blocks from our apartment. They left her to die out in some alley. Even after five years they never managed to catch them."
Virgil remembered when he tried reading Richard's fortune. He had seen a flash of a woman shot when he tried to read why the guy hated him. As much as he would like to be sympathetic, he couldn't help but feel anger for him instead. "So that's it. Since you can't punish them, I'm the next best thing, huh?"
"Don't try and make me the bad guy here Edelman. My brother took some pity when he hired you. I don't know for the love of god why, but I'm not just going to smile and let some thug get a free pass when he doesn't deserve one. Especially one that someone's Hannah away from them."
"And what, you think if you overwork me, stiff on me on overtime pay, I'll just take it."
Richard leaned back in his chair, a smug look on his face. "You don't have a choice Edelman. What else can you do? A punk like you has nowhere else to go. And no one who'll put up with you. Guess it was a blessing for your father and grandmother when they finally got free of you."
Virgil stood up and glared at the man. Richard seemed to be looking at him, silently daring him to retaliate on what he just said. It's what he wanted. An iron clad excuse to finally get rid of him. And, for the moment, Virgil didn't care about giving it to him. He would reach across that desk and pop him a good right hook across that thick, snotty nose of his.
Yet, before he could do anything, there was a loud, bloodcurdling scream heard from behind the door. And not just from one person.
"What the hell?" Virgil muttered, turning away just as a chilling roar vibrated into the room.
The elevator doors open and Scott quickly threw himself out of it with his mother hot on his heels. Both of them had worried and desperate looks on their faces as they moved down the halls of the hospital. Not too long after Scott had heard that howl in his room, his mom had gotten a call from the hospital. Apparently, Lydia Martin had been brought in by Deputy Parrish and the two of them got into her car as quick as they could.
They got to the waiting area and they caught sight of Parrish, standing out in the center, seemingly staring off into space. Scott held his hand to hold his mother back as he carefully stepped closer to him.
"Parrish?" he cautiously called out.
He then turned around and let out a small smile. "Hey Scott," he calmly said back.
Scott settled as it seemed that Parrish seemed to be himself right now. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, better than Lydia at least."
"Is she okay?"
"She's resting, or I least that's what it looks like. I called her mother a little while ago. She should be here soon."
"What happened?"
He shook his head. "I don't really know. The last thing I remember, I was sitting down in the holding cells at the station, and the next thing I know, I'm holding Lydia in my arms, out in the woods, heading for my van."
"Do they know what's wrong with her?"
"No. They've tried to wake her but they said it's like she's catatonic. They did find some kind of cut or wound on the back of her neck," he said, pointing at the area on the back of his own.
"At her spine," Scott muttered.
"You know what this is?" asked Parrish.
Scott dropped his gaze as he nodded. "Yeah, I think I do," he answered solemnly. "Werewolves can go into a person's mind and see or erase their memories. We use our claws to connect with a person's spine through the back of their necks. But...it can be risky."
Lydia had it happen to her before when the both of them had tried to save Stiles from the nogitsune. Scott had also done it to Corey not too long ago to try and find where Liam and Hayden were. And potentially putting him through what Lydia is going through now.
"Who? Who could've done this to her?" his mother asked.
Scott let out a deep, heated and tired breath. "Theo," he said. "It had to be him."
Parrish narrowed his eyes. "Theo, Theo Raeken? Why?"
Scott shook his head. "I don't know. He must've needed Lydia for something. Something only a banshee could give him."
Their moment was broken as a nurse made her way over to them.
"Melissa! Oh, thank god I found you."
"What's wrong?"
"It's the Sheriff."
Sheriff Stilinski's body was on a gurney and being wheeled down the hall as they started moving him towards one of their operating rooms.
Down the hall, Scott and his mother were racing over to try and catch up to them. First Lydia, and now Stiles' dad. Theo had all but told him that he had them both but with everything that had happened, Scott had completely forgotten all about them. Now they both were here, hurt and needed help. He had to do something, anything.
Yet, before they could go any further, Liam's stepfather moved up and stopped Scott from getting any closer to the room.
"Whoa, I'm sorry but you can't go in there Scott," he said to him.
"I have to see him," he said, trying to move around her.
"I'm sorry but he's about to go into surgery," the man calmly tried to tell him. "I can't let you in there."
"No, I have to go!" he barked.
"Scott," his mom said sharply to him.
He looked back at her stern face and he went and took a deep breath and then started to pace off.
Despite looking like she was keeping her cool, Melissa was as much a bundle of nerves as her son apparently was. The last time she and Noah had spoken to each other, it had been less than pleasant. "Geyer, what happened?"
"It looks like the Sheriff had gotten himself mauled by some kind of animal," he answered. "There were claw marks cut into his abdomen. And it looks like he's lost quite a bit of blood."
"How bad does it look?"
He shook his head. "I'm not sure yet. But I'm going to do everything I can. Melissa, I could really use you."
"Of course. Just, who brought him in?" his mom asked.
The doctor shook her head. "No one did. Some EMT's found him just lying passed out in the middle of the loading dock as they were getting ready to head on out."
Melissa moved to share a concerned look with her son. "Any clue how he even got there?" she asked.
"No. He was just left there. There was no sign of anyone. We have no idea how he ended up there."
Scott had some idea, or hope, about how it could've happened. But, there wasn't any sign of him. And that was making him feel even worse. Lydia and now the Sheriff were down, they couldn't lose anyone else tonight.
"I need to go find Stiles."
Scott raced upstairs to go and find Parrish and ask him to stay with his mom and the Sheriff, but he saw that he was gone.
Stiles was barely aware of himself. Right now, his human mind seemed completely overshadowed by his bestial one. There was virtually no control to be had as he was now running through the dark, spacious woods. He had no idea where he was going and honestly, he didn't seem to have it in him to care.
The very last clear thing his rational mind can remember is...pain. The feel of his insides burning up, his bones breaking, and his limbs growing and twisting about. After that, he could remember flashes of light in front of him as he went and pushed his way passed the barrier and get into the room, his paws breaking the line as they passed over the ash. The sight of his father lying on the ground, the wolf in him feeling sorrow and concern at the pain of seeing his father, his pack, close to death. He had nuzzled his...snout, his snout, against his hair before moving to affectionately rub it against his temple, taking in his scent. His dad seemed to respond to it with his breathing seeming to calm itself and Stiles heard himself let out a wounded purr as he went to lightly place his paw out into his right palm. His dad's fingers moved to curl up and squeeze it as soon as he did.
As he did, he felt an intense heat travel up through that paw and head right for his lupine belly. Once it got there, he flinched as he felt he had been clawed. As he let out a wail from the sudden spike of pain, his father started coughing and his ears stiffened as he heard the man's heart beat start getting stronger. His rational mind started taking a stronger hold and stepped in to direct him on what to do next. Soon, he was bounding out the house's front door, his father spread out over on his back, as he started running out on all fours into the night.
He can't think on how he did it, or why, but he managed to get them both all the way to Beacon Hills Memorial without any incident. As he started to trek into the hospital's emergency dock, the passed out passenger on his back began to stir and Stiles moved to try and set him down gently on the pavement. His snout crinkled as he could smell some fresh blood and pain leaking out of the man. There was suddenly some loud ruckus coming from the doors leading into the hospital as he could feel a couple of people heading right for them. A hard growl erupted from under his throat as he opened his jaws and tasted the air. The predatory part of himself was ready to rip and tear into whomever dared to intrude on his moment with his pack. His eyes started to have a shimmer come out in them as he locked his sight on that door that would be soon opened by his prey.
"Stiles?" his father managed to barely choke out.
Hearing his name made his turn his head away and the rational part of his mind move into taking the reins again. At that moment, he bounded off out of the parking lot, leaving his father lying there to be discovered by confused and scared people only a few moments later. If his father hadn't managed to help him reclaim his senses, there could've a strong chance that he would've decorated that garage with parts of a half a dozen people. He had to stay away, at least until the Supermoon set. He could still feel it, its warmth, its light raining down on him. He was so full of power and energy, so much that he felt he would go insane from the rush of it all. All he wanted more than anything was to let loose on something...or someone. Anyone.
That led to Stiles at this very moment. Trying to put some distance between him and well...everyone. He barely had any conscious use of his human mind left. All the adrenaline, the power, the emotional strain, it was sapping up any control he had left. Suddenly, his snout moved up into the air as it began to pick up something. Blood. Lots of blood...and something else mixed in. After that, Stiles' mind slipped completely away as his predator mind bounded for it.
There was some faint screaming off echoing in the air as Virgil quickly threw himself off behind one of the cars in the garage. He was bent down, his face broken into a hard sweat as he tried hard to not make a sound. He closed his eyes as he felt his heart almost painfully pounding hard against his chest and his blood pump all the way against the ends of his earlobes and fingertips.
"No! No-" he heard someone shout out before they were cut off by a most sickening kind of sound. Virgil had never heard anything like it before and it made his heart beat even faster in terror.
When he had heard that noise in Richard's office, he had gone out the door and found himself in a nightmare. The other mechanics and the few customers that were there were all running around and screaming. Virgil was standing there, taking it all in just before Richard pushed passed him and ran off. That seemed to snap him out of it and remember his prior anger right before he saw the man get rushed at by a great big, dark shape.
After that Virgil's mind had gone blank, and he barely remembers coming to hide in his current spot. Right now, he needed to think of a way to get out of here. He wondered if he could make it to his car. He had parked it at the far end of the parking area outside the shop. Hopefully it should still be okay from that...thing. If he could make it, he might just stand a chance.
It was quiet so Virgil went and peaked over the hood to see if the coast was clear. His eyes took a quick look over and the area seemed empty. Perhaps the thing had moved on after it claimed its latest...person. Virgil tried to quietly pull himself to his feet and took two test steps away from his hiding place. He had a better look of the area and found that there were a few scattered, bodies lying around, each in their own pool of blood, but no sign of...it. For a moment, he thought he was in the clear, but then there was a hard crash as something moved to crash on top of the car he had used to hide behind. Right on the top of the now bent roof, stood...it. A colossal creature that looked like some kind of beast that had been plucked out of the pits of hell itself. It's blue eyes locked right onto him and its fang filled jaw seemed to curve into a smile at the sight of him.
Virgil broke into a hard run and the beast moved to give chase. He threw himself out of the exit door and threw it shut behind him, not taking a second after to resume running. Barely a moment after he did, the thing made its way out, by throwing itself through wall beside the door. The crash made Virgil look back in horrid fascination so he didn't see himself heading right for a body before he tripped over it. He flew to the ground, with his pouch coming open as he hit the ground and a few of his tarot cards spilling out. Virgil groaned as he lifted his head to find that the body he tripped over was Richard. The guy's chest was ripped open and with streaks of blood spread everywhere from head to toe.
There was then a hard roar and Virgil saw the creature just a few feet away at him, leering down at him as he moved slowly for him, stalking his newest bit of prey. Virgil brought his eyes down to the tarot cards that had fallen from his pouch. They were all faced down on the pavement, save for one. The Death and it was upright, with the skeleton rider seeming to stare right down at him. And as his breath got caught in his throat, Virgil saw that wasn't the only death gazing at him. Richard's dead, glassy eyes were gazing right for him, and even at post-mortem, they seemed to channel his disgust for him. There was a rush of heated air as the beast was just over him now and its hard breath pushed passed him. It then moved to stand on its hind legs and towered over him, reaching ten feet, maybe even taller. It was readying its front right clawed pawed hand for him, the tips of it coated red with blood. Virgil knew he was going to die in the next moment, and right now, he felt absolutely nothing.
Then there was a hard snarl but the one that was struck wasn't Virgil, but the beast. Something collided with the beast and it seemed to bite into the creature's neck, throwing it off of Virgil. It was some kind of wolf, or wolf like creature. It seemed to big to be a real wolf though it was much smaller than this beast. About half its size, but big enough to send it lying on its back. Its own back paws kicked at the pavement near Virgil, sending his spilled tarot cards blowing at him. Virgil blinked before he moved to pick them up and throw them back in his pouch. As he gathered the Death card, he saw that the new animal had just made it fly to have it be now faced upside down in the reversed position. He blinked before he moved to throw it in his pouch and then seal it back up. The beast moved to throw the giant wolf off and the two of them faced each other down, growling and leering at one another.
As they did, it gave Virgil a moment to really take in this new...animal. While it seemed like a wolf at first glance, he could tell it was not normal. While it did seem to have the head of a wolf, and covered in dark brown fur from head to tail, there was something wrong with it. It's legs and body seemed to be much thicker than any other wolf he'd seen in pictures or in a zoo. It's paws were thick and seemed to have almost digit like fingers with deep claws at the end of each one. And it looked like it could stand on its hind legs if it wanted to, and if it did, could stand to be about as tall as himself. Virgil kind of thought it seemed to be a wolf on steroids, or a super wolf. Right now it was currently crutched down in a guarded position in front of him. Almost protective like. Virgil wanted to think that it was moving to protect him but couldn't help but wonder if it wanted to keep the beast from letting it have the kill all for itself.
He didn't get too long to wonder as they both went and charged for each other. The super wolf made it's way to the beast's back and was holding on for dear life as the much larger monster was trying to throw it off. It moved to sink its claws and fangs into the thing's back as it let out a hard roar and thrash even more violently to throw it off. It then moved to hurl itself off to the side, out of Virgil's sight behind a turned over van close to the street. There was the sound of more growling, followed by a pained howl before Virgil saw the giant beast start running off, on all fours, heading into the trees. The super wolf was no where to be seen but Virgil could faintly hear some kind of wolfish whimpering being let out from over at that spot. It sounded like that wolf might've been hurt. He couldn't help but wanting to move over and take a better look at it. He got to the turned over van and stopped just around the corner from where he could hear some kind of rustling sound. He took a deep breath and moved his eyes across the corner to take a quick look but they widened at what he saw lying on the pavement. The wolf seemed to be in the middle of shrinking and its fur seemed to be retreating into itself until there was nothing but skin. Human skin, with a naked and wounded human lying curled up into himself. A human he quickly recognized.
"Holy crap," he gasped.
Zach didn't know where he was going. Since he picked up that howling earlier, he found himself leaving the Sheriff's station and just started walking in some random direction. It must've been maybe an hour or so before he found himself feeling like he was almost there. He then blinked and realized that he was in some unknown neighborhood. It was dark and there was not a soul around, not even any cars in the road. He wondered why he was coming here before he found himself finally stopping.
"My car," he gasped as he went over to it.
The engine was still running with the keys still in the ignition, and the driver's door had been left open. Something told him that it had been left like this for a while. Before Zach could start feeling annoyed and angry that Stiles just left his car like this, his eyes fell on the house that it was parked in front of.
He gasped. "Oh, hell no."
Zach couldn't be back here. The place that those Dread Doctors had kept him trapped in. More than anything he ever wanted in his life, he wanted to take his car and speed the hell out of there. Instead though, he was starting to move closer to it. It was like he was back on autopilot, with his feet trying to take him where they wanted to go instead of him. As he entered, Zach started to feel a chill start creeping down his spine. This place was haunting his dreams almost every night since he had gotten away. Somehow, being here felt worse than he had been dreaming. A chill creeped down his spine and it seemed to get stronger the deeper as he started moving for the basement.
After he stomped down to the foot of the wooden stairs, Zach seemed to finally stop and gain back a sense of motor control. He looked around and found that the place was a wreck. A part of the roof seemed to have collapsed and there was a lot of moonlight shining in from the upstairs windows down it. Zach then looked to the side and he recognized the 'cell' that he had been locked in and it made him take a step in the opposite direction but then felt he had just stepped on something. He bent down to see that it was a torn piece of fabric. Suddenly, his nostrils flared and he picked up a familiar scent. Stiles' scent. He picked up the fabric and quickly recognized it as a part of the sweater that Stiles had been wearing earlier. He then looked around and noticed more pieces of fabric lying around. Parts of Stiles' clothes, all torn and shredded to pieces. Stiles had been there.
Zach then picked up another smell drifting in the air. "Blood," he muttered to himself. He took some deeper sniffs of the air and it seemed to be coming from the room. "Oh come on," he cried out.
Of his own free will this time, he headed to where he didn't want to go. As he stepped into the room, he found that there was a broken line of ash at the entrance. He took out his phone and used its flashlight to look into the room and saw that there was a deep, dark spot of dried blood in the center. Next to it, were prints made in blood. Pawprints, like from some kind of big dog…or wolf.
At that, he then went and bolted out of there. He'd seen enough.
"Stiles?!"
Scott was panting as he stepped into the Stilinski's house. There was no sign of Stiles' jeep in the driveway but he didn't stop to think that meant that his best friend wasn't home. At least he hoped he still was.
"Stiles?" Scott called out again just before he moved up the stairs and went to open the door to Stiles' room. As soon as he let himself in, he froze in shock. "Holy-" he muttered to himself.
Stiles' room was a complete wreck! There were papers and small objects, some broken, scattered all around the floor. Stiles' desk was clean as everything that he had kept on it as it had been thrown and scattered around while his chair was thrown off to the opposite corner of the room, against the wall. Right in the middle of the chaos was Stiles' crime board, which was lying horizontally against some of Stiles shredded bed spreads. Pieces of torn paper, photos and discarded red yarn were laying nearby, and there were bits of shredded and torn up bits of clothes thrown around too. Anyone would think that a wild animal or two had run amuck in here, and so would Scott if he didn't know better.
His first fear was that someone had done this and did something to Stiles. Maybe Theo or another chimera, maybe even the Dread Doctors themselves. But as he sniffed about to try and get a scent, the only recent ones he could pick up were Stiles and his father's. That's when he realized that Stiles had done all this himself.
Scott started pacing the room as he surveyed the damage. He could detect fresh traces of grief, anger, pain and anxiety all over the place.
'Stiles snapped,' he through horrifyingly as he took it all in.
Scott then took a hard step to the side and flinched when he felt himself step on something pointy. He lifted his foot to see something metallic lying on the floor. He picked it up to see that it was some kind silver pendant with a chain but it was all crumpled up. Scott could make out a pointed end bent to be straight up with a faint trace of blood on it. Stiles' blood. He guessed, whatever this was, Stiles had squeezed it apart in his own hand and slightly cut himself. But he froze when he noticed a familiar symbol cut into a large part of it. The Argent's symbol.
He pocketed it before he went and pulled out his phone, quickly dialing up his mother.
"Did you find him?" he heard his mom say as soon as she picked up.
"No, he's not at home. I'm going to try the station next."
"I already called the station. They say that Stiles was there but he left a little before nightfall. No one there has seen him since."
Scott quickly hung up and moved to leave the house. As he bounded down the stairs he stopped at the foot of them and his face paled as he moved his hand over where his wound was. A burning flash of pain started to spread everywhere. His stance wobbled for a moment before he straightened himself back up and moved off for the door.
If Stiles wasn't at home, the station or the hospital, then where was he?
Virgil pulled up to his building's parking lot and cut the ignition before moving to have both his hands take a firm grip of his steering wheel. His breathing quickened and he then moved to let his forehead rest against the top of it. He didn't know how long he stayed like that but eventually Virgil felt his breathing start to slow and began to lift his head away. He narrowed his eyes and then moved to throw himself out of the car.
The area was quiet and empty, which shouldn't be surprising as it was so late. Virgil hadn't checked the time but he guessed it was like three or so in the morning. He let himself then look up the dark night sky whose only source of light was the great big full moon shining in the distance. His gaze then fell away from the moon to Stiles' semi visible face as he was lying passed out and wrapped up in a car tarp, spread across his back seat.
"I must finally be out of my mind," he muttered to himself before he moved to open the door and reach in to begin pulling him out.
A/N: Well, we have the start of Part 2 of this story. I hope it was a satisfying start and worth the long wait. Seems that things are already taking a very different turn for Stiles, literally. A little retconned fact, but I'm making Virgil be one of the many bodies that was found by Scott and Stiles at the Dread Doctors lair among the Beast's victims. He died before anyone could know his story. Yet here, Stiles' new story has now made his own start coming to light.
I'm hoping everyone is doing okay with all this post holiday pandemic craziness and staying safe.
