FILTER:
A photography filter is a transparent piece of tinted glass, plastic or gelatine used to alter the colour or character of light or to reduce the amount of light
My eyes scanned the lunch hall for Matt I hadn't seen him yet today to whine about my useless parents. Where was he? Before I could walk round to check the other side of the canteen a chair slid out to block my path. Looking down at it I spotted a tiny heeled foot pressing into one of the legs. Lydia. She couldn't possible need another favour this quickly. "Sit," she gestured to the chair in front of me and waited for me to follow her order. Sliding into the chair I abandoned my search for Matt. He wasn't about to die because I didn't sit with him for one lunch. "Emma, you know Allison right?" the red head asked as the brunette waved up at me from behind a rather interesting looking book. Before either of us could reply she carried on, "I just wanted to say thank you for helping me the other day." She pushed a gift bag towards me and raised a single perfectly plucked eyebrow when I hesitated to take it. "It's nothing major, just little gift." She carried on. Peering into the bag I saw a brand new leather camera bag. Pulling it from the gift bag I inspected it closely, taking in the light brown stitching that ran down the edges giving the item an almost vintage feel. It was beautiful and clearly Lydia new it. "Well if we're going to be friends then I can't have you carrying that horrid thing around." She gestured to the nylon padded carry case I currently had slung across me.
"Didn't realise getting you that list would be binding. Should I make us some matching bracelets?" I quipped with a smile.
Lydia rolled her eyes and reached out expectantly, "if you're going to be ungrateful."
I merely shook my head back at her childishly before nodding towards Allison, "Her book looks like it has seen better days are you going to try and upgrade that to?" The new addition to the school snorted at the comment before stopping suddenly to check Lydia's reaction. Clearly she didn't quite know what to make of our interaction.
"Oh," Chimed Lydia. "She was telling me about the something of somewhere." She turned to Allison before asking, "the what of where?" She was obviously not as engaged with the reading material as Allison had been.
It was Allison's turn to roll her eyes as she pulled the book back up to read, "The beast of Gevaudan." Well she had my attention even if Lydia was too busy twirling her food around with her fork. "Quadruped wolf - like monster, prowling the Auvergne and south Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bete killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that the King Louie the 15th sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it." As interesting as the topic was, I couldn't help but wonder why she was reading it out loud to Lydia. From the redheads expression she hadn't asked to hear about 'la bete' so why was she going out of her way to share the story?
"Boring." Lydia stated from across the table.
She might not be interest but I wanted to know what happened, "I'm listening," I stated as Allison looked at me to see if I was as uninterested as Lydia.
Smiling she continued happy to have received some encouragement, "Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan."
"Still boring," Lydia replied again after receiving another hesitant glance from Allison.
Though this time our storyteller didn't seem to need any encouragement to continue reading, "Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a mesonychid."
"How very loch ness of them" I commented quietly as Lydia continued to complain about being bored.
"While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape - shift into a man - eating monster." My eyes drifted to the canteen door where Scott had just entered the room with his usual partner in crime not far behind. I wonder if he knew his girlfriend was reading about werewolves in her down time. Actually I wonder if she knew anything about the events that had been occurring in Beacon Hills recently.
"Any of this have anything to do with your family?" Lydia questioned dully. Ah, so that was why she was reading about hunters and old French monsters. Clearly this was something she had found out during research for our history project. She had defiantly found something better than me. The only thing of interest in our family history was that a couple centuries ago a distant relative on my dad's side had been the first woman to open an apothecary shop in New Orleans. How very exciting.
Allison paused before finding the right passage, "This. 'It is believed that la Bete was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature.' His name was Argent." So it wasn't just that her family had known about the monster, her family had killed the monster. What if they still killed monsters? According to the gossip travelling the halls it was Mr Argent not Sheriff Stilinski who had shot the mountain lion in the carpark last night.
Lydia did not seem to find the reveal as fascinating as I did. She signed lightly and shook her head dismissively, "Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?"
"Not just a big wolf. Take a look at this picture. What does it look like to you?" Allison turned the book round to reveal the illustration. My breath caught in my throat as its red eyes glared out from the page. Her ancestors where werewolf hunters. "Lydia?" I pulled my eyes away from the drawing to look at the unusually quiet teen. "Lydia." Allison pressed on trying to pull her out of her daze.
"It looks," the girl began, her voice soft and oddly eerie as her eyes fixated on the image before her. Then it sunk in and my heart arched for her. She must have seen the creature leaving the video store. I reached out and gave her motionless arm a squeeze. Without so much as blinking she went from meek victim to sassy teen queen, "it looks a big wolf. See you in history." With that said she sashayed out of the canteen. Neither myself nor Allison knowing how to take her bizarre behaviour. Chuckling under my breath at now mixed up the last few weeks had gotten, I tucked my new camera bag under my arm and made for the field.
"Want to walk together?" Allison asked sweetly as she too stood from her seat. Her book cradled protectively in her arms.
I shook my head as I pulled my silver cigarette case from my pocket, "sorry I'm suddenly feeling a bit sick. Think I'll go get some fresh air." Allison was not stupid she gave me a disapproving look before heading off to class by herself. Not sure why she was giving me that look, according to Matt, she and Scott had skipped the entire day together!
As I excited the room I plucked a single white stick from the case and held it in my mouth has I rummaged in my pockets for my lighter. Usually, I was more carefully however my attention was currently focused on Stiles who was launching lacrosse balls at his best friend, who from the looks of it was tied up? "Miss King," a stern voice pulled me from my stare as I turned to face the vice principle, cigarette still hanging from my lips. Crap. His hand was held out expectantly as he waited for me to rattle of a list of excuses. I didn't. I simply removed the unlit cigarette and placed it back in the tin before placing the silver box into his outstretched hand.
"Detention?" I asked although I already knew the answer.
"Detention." He confirmed before heading off back to his office my case stowed away in his suit pockets. I spent my time after school twiddling my thumbs in detention. The only short distraction from my boredom was Mr Harris's swift departure after a ruckus from outside drifted through the open window. Only for him to return with Scott and Stiles in tow. He gave me swift nod and I was free before I had time to even wonder what the pair had been up to.
Now please understand, I am not an overly sentimental person nor am I materialistic enough to add breaking and entering to my list of misdemeanours. However, I simple couldn't let my tobacco tin sit in the vice principal's office any longer. Firstly, I had already asked very politely for the item to be returned to me after facing my punishment without so much as a grumble. Secondly, the tin had belonged to that New Orleans apothecary owner I mentioned earlier and was the main focus of my history project. Thirdly, well, I like it. Those are the reasons I planned to give to the Sherriff should he find me snooping around the school after hours.
School grounds are always creepier at night. Thick beams of moonlight ricochet of the dull grey building as it loomed over me. My fingers feeling the edge of the windows searching for a forgotten lock or lose joint. In hindsight I should have just brought bolt cutters with me. As I moved around the outside of the office building the moon illuminates an open window. It was only a small bathroom window covered in the usual frosted glass but I could squeeze through.
After a few minutes of twisting and turning I managed to shift my upper torso through the gap. My legs happily followed as I lowered myself down using one of the sinks to support me. Once inside it hadn't taken me long to find my silver case. My thumb ran over the simple swirls that had been engraved on the back fondly as I pushed it into my pocket and started for the door. Having no intention of climbing out the bathroom window I headed for one of the fire escapes.
The speakers in the hall began to buzz ominously as I turned into a new section of the school. Someone else was here. Before I had time to wonder a strangled wail filled the empty corridor. Scott. I couldn't help but smirk slightly at the sound. My theories that he was new to the whole supernatural thing seeming more accurate by the minute. I turned lazily on my heels ready to confront the pair, perhaps it would be simpler to gather information from them instead of stumbling around blindly looking for clues about the day out in the forest all those years ago. A second noise rattled though the speakers and as it did my heart began to pound against my ribs. A cold sweat had broken out on my forehead as a single chill shot down my shine. I stumbled clumsily for the nearest door. I had no intentions of confronting whatever had produced that harrowing howl. Though as I rushed to one of the deserted classrooms and dived under the vacant desk, I couldn't help but wonder if it truly had been Scott I had heard earlier.
Panicked footsteps echoed down the deserted hall. My heart stopped when I realised they were getting nearer. I clamped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to prevent my frantic breathing from being heard. The door slammed shut and I held my breath as two pairs of feet rushed round the rush. A startled yelp escaped my lips as the desk was suddenly shoved toward the door only to be stopped just as quickly. "It's your boss," A familiar voice wave of me. Stiles. I had never been happier to hear the goofball's sarcastic tones. My knees trembled slightly as I crawled out from my hiding spot. Stiles seemed to preoccupy with his ramblings about Scott's boss to release Scott had stopped paying attention. I'm not sure when it was he realised I was there but his eyes were already wide and following my every move as I pushed myself up on to my feet. Taking his friends silence as a disagreement to his words Stiles ploughed on not turning to face us. "Deaton, the alpha? Your boss."
"No," the word came out as barely a whisper. I didn't know how to respond my weak legs barely holding me up as I remember the howl that had rung throughout the school only minutes earlier. Had that been Scott?
Turning sharply, Stiles looked beyond frustrated. His face almost sneering the words back at Scott. A single finger pointing at his friend accusingly, "Yes, murdering psycho werewolf." Stiles stopped "What?" I raised my hand, which I was surprised to find had stopped trembling, and waved at the pair. Scott seemed to snap out of his frozen silences as he began to ramble on and throw half-baked excuses at me as I stared back blankly, "relax man, she knows."
I'm not sure which reaction I found funny. Scott's eyes had widened to an almost comical size as he shifted his gaze between myself and Stiles. While Stiles waved his hand dismissively as Scott stuttered out a slow, "she knows."
Nodding lightly at the slightly shorter boy I tried to reassure him with a smile, though I'm pretty sure it ended up looking more like a grimace as I replied, "I know."
Stiles brushed aside Scott's worry with a shrug. I had thought he would have told Scott about the pictures, the looks and the video store but clearly even they didn't share everything. Leaning forward on the desk Stiles continued his rant from earlier, "can we talk about what really matters here. Like your boss being a murder. He disappears, and that thing shows up ten seconds later to toss Derek 20 feet through the air? That's not convenient timing?"
Scott leant forward mirroring his best friend's actions before protesting, "It's not him!"
"He killed Derek," was Stiles only response.
I felt my eyebrows quirk upwards at the addition of that name. As I brought them back down into a frown a questioned lightly, "Derek Hale?"
The boys outright ignored me as Scott mumbled about Derek still being alive and Stiles all but shouted across the desk at him, "Blood spurted out of his mouth, okay? That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury. He's dead, and we're next." A lump had formed in my throat at that last part.
It seemed that Stile's words had caught Scott's attention to as he gulped loudly before replying nervously, "Okay, just - What do we do?"
Acting as if this was a completely normal event Stiles stood up straight before declaring his plan to Scott, "We get to my jeep, we get out of here, you seriously think about quitting your job, good?" the pair began to make their way to the large row of windows the covered on of the walls. All most as if he had just realised I was there Stiles stopped and looked back at be. He was thinking and thinking hard I could see the gears churning away, "Erm you should probably stay with us." I nodded back but didn't move. I couldn't move. I merely watched the boys take up their spots by the window I couldn't hear their hushed whispers but I knew things weren't going to plan.
I saw It coming before I heard it. A dark object was soaring through the air towards us and I couldn't think what to do. I know I should have shouted for the boys to duck but my words caught in my mouth as the object slammed into the window sending shards of glass flying through the air. I had barely raised my arms to protect my face by the time the object slide to a stop in front of the desk. I finally found my voice, I hoped the boys couldn't hear the fear that encased my every word, "Is that a battery?" My eyes tracing the claw marks that covered it.
"That's my battery," Stiles started to move from the spot the boys had thrown themselves onto when the projectile had been launched through the glass but Scott's had clasped his sleeve tightly pulling him back down, "We have to move."
"He could be right outside," was Scott's reasoning. To be far to the teen, it was a good reason. I hadn't ducked earlier so I still had a clear view of the car park. So I knew Scott was right.
I stared out into the darkness my eyes never leaving the glowing red orbs that glared back at me from the shadows, "he is right outside." My words brought the boys attention to me. I guess I'll never know what it was that sent them into a panic but I'm sure I looked pretty serious as I stared helplessly out into the dark. The pair nodded to each other clearly deciding something. They were up and heading for the door but I couldn't pull my eyes away from the beast. Two hands grabbed my shoulders and ushered me out the door and down the corridor.
"No, no, no, no," whoever was pushing my stopped giving me a chance to glance back over my shoulder. Scott. Scott had been the one to pull be from the room. My eyes traced his arms down to his hands as they grasped my shoulders lightly. His hands that I had seen rip a chair, his claws that had punctuated holes into his lacrosse gloves. As he turned to see why Stiles was protesting his choice of directions his thumb brushed one of the thin scars that ran across my back. In an instant I had pushed myself forward and out of his hold. Scott frown in confusion but I know the penny dropped when he followed my gaze to his hands. He looked hurt.
If Stiles noticed my actions he didn't mention it. Instead he explained why he had stopped us, "Somewhere without windows."
"Every single room in this building has windows," I quipped back finally pulling my eyes away from Scott's claws, sorry hands.
Stiles sent me a look. Clearly he wasn't impressed with my input into the conversation despite being the one to invite me along, "Or somewhere with less windows." He tilted his head raised a brow as if to ask 'is that better?'
Scott had stopped staring at me with his puppy dog eyes long enough to realise where we could hide, "the locker room." We all nodded in agreement and hurried down the abandoned corridors towards our new hideout.
As we entered the locker room my eyes were drawn to the lit office. While the boys fussed about how to get out I found my feet carrying me toward the light. There was something comforting about the desk lamps warm glow that called to me as I peered through the door into the small office. My eyes lingering on the messy stack of marked papers that had been thrown down carelessly. Coach's beloved red marker sat haphazardly on top of the mess. I wanted a peek. My hand curled around the door frame as I stepped into the room only pausing shortly to query something I had overheard from the boys heated discussion, "wolfbane works?"
Stiles didn't even turn to look at me as he throw his hand up to shush me, "not really the time for werewolf 101." My lip curled and I rolled my eyes at him, even though I knew he wouldn't see it felt good to do. It didn't take long to reach the desk and it took an even shorter amount of time to find the economics paper I had handed in earlier in the week. B. My hand curled around the red pen as I plucked it from its place upon the scattered papers. Pulling the lid with my teeth as I amended my score. B+, much better. Smiling to myself I rummaged a bit happier to have found something to take my mind off our dire situation. My smile grew when eyes landed on Matt's curly penmanship, why he still hand wrote his essays I'll never understand.
"Emma!" I looked up from my spot next to the desk, the red pen lid stills wedged between my teeth. My eyes met Scott's through the office window as he continued to talk, "what about your car." We had both chosen to ignore Stiles grumblings about how I wasn't taking this seriously and his request seconds later for me to check his score.
I shook my head as I placed the lid on the pen, "cycled." Happy with my answer the pair continued muttering to each other in hushed voices. Moving away from the desk, having already changed the papers, to inspect the items Coach kept on display. I hadn't even notice that the pair had started of toward the door until Scott's frantic whisper cut through the air.
"Hide," I sank to the ground just below the office window pressing my back firmly against the wall. I didn't look to see were the boys had hidden but from the noise I guessed they had squeezed themselves into the lockers. I had never realised how loud doors could be until I heard the one to the locker room grind against the hard floor. Heavy footsteps followed. I frowned inwardly they sounds like booted footsteps.
"Son of a bitch!" the shout made me jump. I turned and peered out of the open doorway of the office to find Stiles frantically trying to quiet the startled Janitor. "Not okay, Get the hell out of here!" He began to shoo the pair out despite their protests. He paused as he passed the office door clearly he had spotted my shadow as it spilled across the floor. In one swift motion he had pulled me from my spot on the floor and was ushering out the room with the others. "All of you get out the hell out. Now!" With his final word he gave us a push and we all stumbled clumsily through the doorway trying not to trip over each other. Stiles tried to explain again but was quickly cut off by the adult. "Just shut up and g…" his body shot backwards and the door slammed shut. We could see his struggling silhouette through the frosted glass. I flinched as thick red blood sprayed the door as he screamed.
Scott had already lunged forward to try the handle by the time I began to move. However, I wasn't being as heroic as our resident teen wolf. No I was already turning to run down the hallway as Stiles grabbed Scott. "Go! Go!" his voice echoed through the hall as door was forced off its hinges and into the corridor.
We ran as fast as our legs would carry us through the halls not once taking even a second to glance behind us. The boys rushed forward as two large fire doors came into view. They charged pushing the bars down and ramming their shoulders into the solid panels only to be knocked backwards. This creature was smart. It had blocked our exit with a dumpster from the carpark. My head began to spin as I realised the true nature of our problem. We were going to die here. I was going to die in school. I was going to die in school with two guys I barely knew and my last act on earth would be a stupid prank. I thought of Matt as I moved backwards away from the boys. He would never that I had changed in mark. He would just think he had done badly. I had to get away. I had to get out. In hindsight I should have stayed with the werewolf, regardless of how new to the title he was. In one swift turn I shot of down the hall way. My mind was in too much of a haze to process my name being called from behind me. I just knew I had to get out and I doubted the creature had closed the tiny bathroom window I had shimmied in through earlier in the evening when my biggest worry had been getting caught for trespassing.
"McCall!" I slowed my pace at the new voice. "Scott?" I frowned in confusion as I turned the last corner of my route, "Derek?" There in the middle of the hall stood Jackson his voice had become softer with each name. I started to open my mouth I had planned on shouting, screaming at him to get out but I didn't. He was staring at something behind me. Something else was in the hallway with us. My heart began to race in my chest. He had the same look on his face as he had had in the video store.
"Emma?" Lydia's curious tone pulled both of us out our frozen states, though my heart continued to race. The tiny red head had cocked her head to the side as she glanced between the pair of us clearly trying to figure out what she had missed. "Please don't tell me you are here with Scott," She chimed as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
My eyes shifted from Jackson to Lydia, who was barking orders down the phone, before turning back to Jackson. "We need to leave," I tried to sound calm but I'm sure Jackson had heard the fear that dripped from those words as they left my mouth.
"Let's go then," commanded the petite girl as she sashed her way down the hall. Lydia clearly didn't know what was going on or else she wouldn't be walking about so confidently. I glanced over at Jackson again. He knew something wasn't right. He looked how I felt. The colour had only just began to return to his face as he marched along behind his seemingly fearless girlfriend, who was once again on the phone.
As we entered the lobby we were greeted by an array of voices. Scott was busy trying to talk to Allison, which made one more person we would have to try to get out. The girls were still on the phone to each other as Jackson called out the Scott. In the chaos Stiles had begun to march towards me. Before he could say anything about my disappearing act earlier the entire group froze. Our eyes all shifted upwards as the ceiling boards began to crack. Scott was the first to react as his fingers curled around Allison's hand, "run!" Even though the girls didn't seem to know just how much trouble we were in they still ran. Clearly they could sense the seriousness of the problem as Stiles, Jackson and Myself bolted towards the stairs. Only Lydia was brave enough to lookback as the ceiling caved in. I'm almost certain she would have stopped had I not snapped up her wrist from across the railing and pulled her up the stairs.
Once again we found ourselves running. Only after pushing through the canteen doors did we finally stop. My hand falling away from Lydia's tiny wrist as she and Allison began to demand answers. No one gave them any, at least not yet. As the others began barricade the door I headed for the all of windows. I tuned out their petty arguments about where to hide and whether or not to call the police. Instead I began to pace along the windows my eyes watching outside world like a hawk. I only paused momentarily from my self-appointed role of watchman to listen to Stiles and Scott once the pair had moved away from the others and towards my patrol route. "Derek said it wants revenge," Scott explained to his friend quietly.
"Against who?" Stiles replied asking the question that had been resting on the tip of my tongue.
"Allison's family," Scott responded as if Stile's should have figured it out and I couldn't stop myself joining the discussion.
"What does Allison's family have to do with it?" both boys jumped before turning to look at me clearly neither of them had noticed how close they had gotten to me. My brows sank into a thoughtful frown as silence fell between us. I glanced toward Allison and saw her wolf pendent hanging loosely around her neck. The beast of Gevaudan. My eyebrows moved up wards as my lips parted in understanding, "Oh. Hunters."
Scot was too busy fretting to hear my words but Stiles caught them. He almost glared in confusion as his mouth twisted trying to find the right words to answer with. He finally let out a frustrated groan, "how did you even…" clearly he still found it difficult to belief that anyone besides himself could join the dots together, "Never mind, Maybe that's what the text was about. Someone had to send it."
Something moved outside. The hairs of the back of my neck began to stand on end as I edged towards the windows. Clearly I was the only one to have seen it as Jackson and Stiles began to argue behind me. The creature knew where we were so why wasn't it attacking. As the thought crossed my mind the barricaded doors began to rattle. "The kitchen, the door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell," Stiles stated calmly. How he stayed so together in situations like this I wasn't sure but I had noticed how easily he feel into the role of planner earlier in the evening.
Scott didn't sound as calm as he shot back his reply, "which only goes up." His frantic tone doing little to ease the nerves of the terrified looking Allison, who had latched herself onto his arm. Lydia had done the same to Jackson and I couldn't help but feel vulnerable in my spot between the rattling door and wall of glass. I began to shuffle backwards towards the others as a chair tumbled from its place in the barricade.
"Up is better than here," Nobody disagreed with Stiles this time. Scurrying out the canteen we all scrambled carelessly up the stairs and away from the snarling beast. We filed into a lab room after Lydia. Each of us panting and shaking as Scott wedged a steel stool under the door handle. Bile filled my mouth as a shadow fell across the doors small window. The shape paused and we all held our breath. It was once the creature was away from the glass that we began to breathe again.
"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott was the first to break the silence.
Jackson didn't seem to remember that his prized Porsche, which he bragged about whenever possible, was a tiny little sports car. He nodded to himself before replying confidently, "Everyone if people squeeze onto laps."
"I barely fit in the back." Allison all but sneered as she reminded Jackson of the actual size of his beloved car.
Shaking my head at the group I sunk down to the floor in defeat, "It doesn't matter. We're not all getting out without drawing attention." Stiles glanced down at me while Scott rushed to inspect the roof door. I could tell Stiles was thinking about my choice of words and remembering how I had run off before meeting up with the other. I rarely cared what others thought. I wasn't the type of girl to worry about wearing too much eyeliner, eating too much or acting rudely. However in that moment as Stiles looked down at me I could help but hope he had misinterpreted my actions earlier as something heroic. Like I had run to give them a better chance at escape. Though from the disappointment shadowing his eyes he knew I had run to save myself. I wanted to explain to him why I had run but before I could even try to talk he had turned to follow his friend.
As I sat on the cold floor of the classroom I couldn't help but question myself. Why had I run? I had held my ground in the video store, hell I even thrown something at the beast! My hand curled up to my neck and traced my scars through my top. They were the reason I ran. It was impossible for such old wounds to hurt but when that howl had echoed down the corridors they had throbbed painfully. It was almost as if they had memories of their own and the noise had reminded them of something terrible.
"I'm getting the key," Scott's declaration brought my thoughts back to the group.
"Are you serious?" I had to agree with Allison even with his extra abilities this seemed like a stupid idea.
Scott nodded, "Well, it's the best plan. Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here."
"You can't go out there unarmed." Allisson continued.
I pushed myself up from the floor and re-joined the group. Settling for a spot beside Lydia, I couldn't help but notice she was paying more attention to the supply cabinet then the current plan. "There's got to be something else we can do," I muttered not really believing it. Out of all us Scott did have the best odds but I didn't what sit around and feel like a coward again.
"There is," Lydia piped up as she nudged my arm and nodded toward the glass doors in front of us. I couldn't see what she meant and clearly I wasn't alone.
The snarky tones of Stiles filled the room, "What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?
Lydia turned removing any trace of the clueless mask she wore during school hours, "No. Like a fire bomb. In there is everything you need to make a self - igniting Molotov cocktail." I couldn't help but smile at the girl. If she embraced her brains she would be terrifying.
"Self – igniting…"
"…Molotov cocktail." She finished for Stiles as if talking to a small child. Clearly very few people beside myself and Matt took note of how scarily smart Lydia Martin truly was. The others in the room stared blankly at her as I walked up to the cabinet to inspect the glass. I reached up to the top ledge and ran my fingers through the thick coating of dust. Having had to retrieve confiscated items I knew teachers tended to be a bit lax when it came to keys. What with so many of them having to regularly swap classrooms. Even while searching I couldn't help but I sighed heavily as Lydia began to back pedal. "What? I read it somewhere."
"We don't have a key for that either." Stiles groaned lightly after a short silence had filled the room. Coughing loudly I drew the groups attention to the rust covered key that sat securely in the now open door. Happy with my contribution to the plan I returned to my patrol of the windows. The movement outside had happened just before the beasts last appearance so hopefully something similar would occur again. It wasn't long before Lydia had created her masterpiece and the severity of the situation hit Allison. She began to plead with Scott. The conversation was far too personal to watch despite being in the same room as them it felt rude to listen as they spoke. Moving closer to the windows I pulled a cigarette from my reclaimed tin. This close to death I really didn't care if it would leave a lingering fragrance in the classroom. Stiles certainly didn't approve of my timing "really!" He was staring at me slack jawed his arms swing into the air as if to highlight our current location, "Now?"
"Of all the things to worry about right now," I replied not taking my eyes off the windows. I was tempted to blow the smoke in his direction. If he had been Matt I would have done it without even thinking. Stiles left me alone to stare out the glass as it was very clear I wasn't going to stop just because he made a comment. I'm not sure how long I stood there glowering out the window.
An intense tearing sensation ran up over my shoulders as a howl rumbled through the empty school. My pitiful whine was masked by Jackson's groan of pain. I turned and watched him sink to the floor his hand grasping the wounds on the back of his neck tightly. My own hand instinctively snaked up to my shoulder where my sleeve had slipped during our adventures through the school. Curious hazels eyes turned towards me, though they weren't looking at my face. In one swift movement I jerked my t-shirt backup to cover the thin pink scars that had attraction Stile's stare. Refusing to meet his gaze I re-joined the group making sure not the pull the girls attention from the door which Allison was rattling hysterically. "Stop. Stop!" Lydia reached out for her friend, "Do you hear that? Listen!" Sirens began to fill the silence. We were going to be okay.
I had tried to sneak away. Key word there is tried. Before I could slip away to find my bike, despite the idea of cycling home alone terrifying me I knew it was better than being cornered by Stiles. "Emma," that wasn't the voice I had expected. Turning I found Allison clutching the hand railing tight she leant towards me from the opposite side of the stairs. A deputy, who had clearly been talking to her, hurried off into the distance. "Do you know why they were are school today?" her eyes were wide and had begun to fill with tears. I opened my mouth but she carried on before I could finish, "he knows more than he is telling me right." It didn't take a genius to realise she was upset with Scott.
"You should talk to him," was all the advice I could offer her before the deputy returned to usher Allison down the stairs. I watched her go and noticed another figure leaning against the railing staring up at me with those damn curious eyes. Sighing I began to descended the stairs until we stood side by side watching the uniformed adults rush about ignorantly. "I want a lift home," I told him not taking my eyes off of his dad who has at the centre of all the uniformed bodies.
He turned, surprised that it had been me to open the gates to a conversation. "Like Dad would let you cycle home." I couldn't stop myself smiling at the comment. It was very true, good old sheriff Stilinski would never let me venture off into the dark alone. "So," he paused, "are you a werewolf?" I threw my head back as a laugh erupted from my lips. That was not the question I had expected! Shaking my head in disbelief I continued down the stairs towards the sheriff's police cruiser. "Hey, Stop! I'm being serious," he scrambled after me awkwardly dodging the railings that had been separating us. "Those scars are from something right? I saw them years ago so I know it wasn't the Alpha but you seem to know about everything!" he stopped as if struck by an idea, "are you working with Derek?!" This was going to be a long car journey home.