CHPT 2: High-School Horrors....

Tuesday February 29th, 2011.

The events that transpired since Lydia's disappearance and abrupt reappearance– joined by an extremely unsettling presence, were relatively tame in comparison to that night. Well, relatively wasn't the right word. They were extremely tame in comparison actually.

Still, everyone had their own issues. Scott and Alison had their relationship troubles to deal with amidst the looming threat of Alison's illustrious family of hunters. Jackson and Lydia were....Jackson and Lydia– only worse since Jackson spent most of his days looking like he ate a grenade before disappearing into the nearest bathroom for the rest of the class. And Lydia– despite surviving a WereWolf bite without becoming a WereWolf, was undoubtedly traumatized.

That had become a part of Stiles' own issues. Along with the dreams– nightmares, and new changes he still had little control over. If only Derek hadn't gone rogue and stolen Peter Hale's Alpha Spark….

That night…..it seemed to birth a lot of their newest problems. Derek's new status as Alpha. Kate's death…..which in turn brought the Hunters, and the seemingly senseless murderer. The Blue-Eyed Beast of Beacon that served as a catalyst in pulling the hunters towards pure genocide. As if they weren't already there…

It was all such a mess, and it would only get worse for one reason. The Full Moon was only hours away.

Even now, as he walked through the crowded parking lot to get to class with Scott, he could feel its pull, despite it being nowhere in sight among the endless expanse of cool blue cloudless sky.

Felt– but not seen. Just like those eyes hidden deep in the forest before…

"Stiles?....Stiles!"

Scott's voice snapped him back into the present, pulling his eyes from the dirty cement stairs to look at Scott's intensely inquisitive face in all it's crooked glory.

"Tell me what you saw again." Scott repeated as they neared the massive red bricked box of a school that was Beacon Hills High.

Stiles sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes, "If your dialogue comprehension skills are this bad…..I get why Coach is always telling the class you're failing economics so confidently."

"Wha– We're both failing economics!" Scott retorted as they approached the large glass doors of the school.

Stiles stared at him blankly for a moment, ".....That is…not wron–"

"Stiles!--"

"Alright!" Stiles snapped in response to Scott's pleas, gaining the attention of a few of the students walking with them as they entered the school.

When the doors shut, all the chaotic swirling scents of a dirty high-school filtered into his newly developed nose. A nose that was boosted by the significance of the day….and what would come by nightfall.

With a breath in through his mouth, he worked to ignore the smells and explain to Scott once more, what it was he'd run into almost a week ago. A memory that wasn't all that hard to recollect….since he'd been thinking it over everyday since.

"Ok." Stiles started, gaining the attention of Scott as they moved with the crowd, "We were out in the forest…..after that Ambulance had been attacked. I had to leave the scene….the blo–...the smells were too much. So I took a breather away from it all. I immediately felt uncomfortable. I don't know, it felt like I was going to die if I moved…..like as soon as I started moving it all would start…"

"What would start, Stiles?" Scott asked, trying to get Stiles to go more into depth than before.

"...The hunt."

"You were being stalked." Scott finished.

Stiles nodded with a sigh, "It was like that feeling when you know someone's watching you, cranked up by a million. I couldn't move…"

Scott stayed silent, knowing Stiles had more to say, despite his discomfort.

"Anyway. Lydia just happened to be wandering through the forest at the time. If we weren't in our current situation, I would've enjoyed that moment over many ni–"

"Stiles." Scott interrupted.

"Yea, my bad. The point is, she showed up. And there it was…."

The two turned and headed down a slimmer hallway, disconnecting them from the massive crowd of students for a smaller one.

"....And you're sure it was…you know? The Blue-Eyed Beast?" Scott asked again, leaning in to whisper the last portion.

"Well..if it was something else then we're in for a horrible awakening. It fit the description anyway. Glowing blue eyes..decently massive...all dark and unsettling, you know?."

"And they weren't like ours?" Scott asked, the same question he'd asked the last three times Stiles told the story.

Stiles sighed and ran his hands over his buzzed head, "No. They weren't. They were like a reptile– or a cat."

Scott stayed silent. As many times as Stiles told the story, it wouldn't ever get better. Unfortunately.

"It doesn't make any sense." Stiles suddenly said.

"I know. What could have eyes like that?" Scott followed up.

"No." Stiles replied without looking at him, "I mean. If it's such a senseless murderer, why didn't it kill Lydia?"

The two sat in silence with the idea and it's chilling implications as they approached the gated metal door that led into the boys lacrosse locker room.

As soon as the door opened and they entered, dozens of young men of varying sizes and smells wooshed past them in a rush to shower and change for morning practice. The chaos of it all was structured. From the mind numbing buzz of the rows of running showers to the constant sensory melting scents of axe body spray that nobody seemed to know how to use rationally.

It made Stiles' head hurt and was always a reminder as to why he started to hate the locker-room so much.

***

With their previous talk on the Blue-Eyed Beast of Beacon over with, they approached their lockers and started to gear up, eager to get outside and run off some of their excess anxious energy.

As Scott shrugged on his pads and tightened the straps, he couldn't help but notice how different this Moon felt. It's pull was less overbearing– less influential. Hopefully this time he wouldn't do anything stupid.

He was positive he wouldn't. He had an anchor. One that meant something to him– one that made him a better person and wasn't as primitive as Derek's.

Alison.

The thought of her name put a smile on his face. Even in the face of a stalking serial killer and WereWolf Hunters recently coming into town. They would be alright…..and in turn, so would his control. He just had to keep his control so he could protect everyone.

"You're thinking about her again aren't you?" Stiles asked without watching him while he fiddled with opening his recently purchased duffel bag.

Scott's smile disappeared faintly, "Yea…"

"You think that's going to make it different this time?" Stiles asked, wiry muscles twitching in his forearm as he worked the zipper on the bag. The faintest feel of fear emanated off him. There last Full Moon together didn't go so well.

"I hope so…." He was silent, racked by his guilt before his face went alert, "What about you!? How do you feel?"

Stiles face went dark for a moment before he recovered, "I'll be fine."

"Stile–"

"Don't worry about me." Stiles interrupted, "We've all got enough on our plates as it is. Anyway, I got some stuff for tonight."

"Enough for two?" Scott asked, still worrying for Stiles despite his protests.

"Yep."

"Better than cuffs?"

"Hell yea." Stiles replied, finally unzipping the bag as he rose to show what was inside to Scott.

At least that was the plan…in theory. But, it seemed even in all his physically boosted changes, he was still as clumsy as ever, causing the bag and it's contents to spill out onto the floor with a heavy metallic rattling thud.

The locker room went silent, and the two could feel all the eyes in the room on them. Too stunned to speak, they remained silent as the Lacrosse Coach appeared beside them, loudly chewing his strawberry flavored gum in Stiles ear.

"Erhm…." The Coach cleared his throat, looking from Scott and Stiles to the piles of heavy metal chains on the floor, "Part of me wants to know…..the other part says knowing could be more disturbing than anything I could imagine. So…I'm gonna go..over there where it's less weird."

"Grea– That's a great idea, Coach." Stiles fumbled awkwardly as their coach walked away.

The silence faded with each passing step their coach made until the locker room was back to it's usual mode of structured chaos. With nothing left to do, Scott and Stiles dropped down to begin shoving the chains back into the bag. As they did, working with the cold metals in silence, a smell permeated through the miasma of body odor, cologne and sweaty gear.

It was a scent that was felt as much as it was smelled. Both alarming and calming. A sense of kinship– connection…and wariness.

Scott looked up from his chains, facing the direction of the scent, eyes glowing a tawny– almost reddened, shade of yellow as goosebumps rippled into existence along his arms. "Stiles. You remember how you said….you could smell that the Blue-Eyed Beast was similar to us? I get what you mean now. There's another in here….another WereWolf."

At the same time across from him, Stiles looked up from his chains, eyeing the door behind Scott, following a massive shadow passing the murky window. His eyes glimmered a light and electrifying shade of bright yellow as the hairs on his arms rose to sharp points.

Scott shook beside him, scared to turn but otherwise feeling what gained Stiles attention.

"There isn't just one, Scott. There's two other Shape-Shifters in here…"