CHPT 8: Snow Moon.

In the passing time since Derek's departure, it had risen….

The Snow Moon. The name given to Full Moon's born in the month of February. A fitting name for such a time. It grew colder, a cold that felt amplified under the magical glow of the Moon hanging high in the unbelievably dark sky. A cold that bit into anybody outside the warmth of their own homes with icy fangs. And tonight, many people roamed and strayed from the warmth of their homes...and the quiet of their dens.

The Full Moon tended to have that effect on it's inhuman children. Some greater than most.

Like it's newest child that had recently become a distant looming nightmare to the people of Beacon Hills.

The Blue-Eyed Beast of Beacon.

It sat on it's haunches, hovering above ground as it's hybrid feet gripped the branch of the pine tree it had remained in for the past half an hour. A hunt required patience....and the Moon needed to be balanced by control.

So, it waited. Silent snarling breaths expelling thick fog from it's mask as it's blue eyes rose up to meet the Full Moon. The glowing eye in the sky watched with an eerie level of sentience. Just as it had been watching the Police Station that sat across the street, pushing away the encroaching darkness with all of it's bright lights and loud sounds.

The Beast hated it. The harsh brightness-- like a human creation meant to mock the Sun. And the noise-- the incessant chatter rising and falling to unbearably annoying octaves that made it's ears want to bleed. The Beast would be granted it's absolute silence soon. Until then, it listened. Listening to the Deer and woodland creatures fleeing the forest around it, the quiet pitter patter of rainfall, the voices of cops, the quieted snarls of the WereWolf within and the roaring engine of a Camaro growing closer by the second.

In the following minute, newcomers arrived. Rushed and panicked. The Beast could smell it on them. It could hear them arguing over something about a plan and two names. Scott and Stiles.

A WereWolf and a young woman. They stepped out of the car practically at a sprint. Both dressed in blacks and smooth leathers that stood out strongly against their varying shades of pale white skin. The WereWolf moved with a strength and confidence that made it's status evident. The young woman was pretty. Small and petite-- unmistakably and classically feminine, with her rich coils of brown hair and long natural lashes. The Beast was sure that many had desired her gaze.

All the Beast wanted to do was kill her.

She smelled. She reeked of them. The Hunters that crawled throughout Beacon Hills looking to kill anything that wasn't human like a mischief of genocidal Rats.

The urge to move on her was almost inescapable. It was-- and The Beast would've, if not for the sound of another vehicle pulling to a stop at the front and back of the Police Stations.

No more flashy muscle cars and pretty people.

The cars The Beast set it's sights on now were heavy duty. Trucks and Jeeps fitted with armored outer shells, trunks full of enhanced weaponry and seats occupied by the bane of The Beast's existence.

Perfect.

The Hunters and their partners had arrived. Which meant, The Beast's job had just begun....

***

The floor of the Police Station was cold. The temperature of it clashed against the warm perspiration that slicked Alison's palms.

In the distance she could still hear Derek sweet-talking the Officer working the counter. She was head over heels for the Alpha after speaking to him for no more than three minutes. If their situation wasn't so intense, she could've laughed.

Instead, she continued to sneak past the desk and down the hallway with the keys to Isaac's cell held firmly in her hands. The sweat never ceased, instead growing with the rise of goosebumps running across her flesh for one reason. One feeling that nagged at the back of her mind ever since the last remnants of the Sun fell and the Moon rose.

"What if we're too la--"

Her thoughts were cut short as she collided with something hard that happened to be placed right around the corner of the slim hallway.

She stumbled backward, grabbing for her nose that felt like it would begin to bleed. Not from the impact, but the smell. Whatever she hit felt like it was smothered in decaying flesh, fur and shit. Like a dead animal cranked up a few disgusting notches.

When she opened her watery eyes, her heart sank.

What stood in front of her wasn't a something-- but instead a someone. Someone she'd seen only half an hour ago. The very someone that had caused her to sweat so profusely with fear for what was to come.

He was tall. Six four give or take, and his armor only made him feel bigger. Deliberate-- he'd done it on purpose. Classic European Knights Armor covered him head to toe. Pure black metal armor accented with dead animal furs and visibly insulated with heavy duty kevlar padding. His shoulder guards failed to stay hidden beneath the foul smelling cloak, revealing the skinned head of some sort of Lion stitched into the armor of his left shoulder. A weird hybrid of medieval and modern elements to make him look like an immortal and timeless warrior-hunter.

Under the luminous glow of hallway lights that flickered faintly, she could see the pulsing gleam of thick markings painted into the armor along with a utility belt fitted with two holstered Desert Eagle's.

"....Alison.....It's not a good look for you to be here...." The armored psycho said in a eerily smooth tone from beneath his visored helm and hood studded by crows feathers. When the accented voice finally registered in Alison's head, she soon realized. The giant wearing the armor was no man. It was a woman.

"A-Alison what are you doing here?" The second of the two Hunters asked as he caught up to them, limping from the arrow wound in his leg. His fake Police Uniform almost looked comical when compared to the gaudy dark Knight sucking up all the attention in front of him.

The armored hunter looked from Alison to her partner, viewing the man's leg wound and Alison's torn hand. Injuries from repeatedly tugging on the high-tech synthetic materials of her bowstring without gloves.

"Shit!..." She thought before quickly hiding her right hand behind herself.

Too late.

Alison could feel the armored Hunter smile from beneath her hooded helm, "Restrain her."

"Wha--"

"Now!" She snapped, "She is not here on our behalf.....or do you need another shot to the hamstring to understand?"

"Hehe....that's...tha--thats not true.." Alison lied weakly, hoping Derek would be on his way any second as the Hunter in Police garb approached, his sweaty face grim and in pain in response to the wound in his leg.

Before she could think about moving, his thick calloused hand gripped her arm hard enough to bruise.

"Wait!--No!....Stop!" Alison yelped as she fought against the Hunter. Unfortunately, strength wasn't her strong-suit. It seemed keeping her cool wasn't either at the moment as the Hunter spun her around and placed a hand over her mouth.

The giant armored woman unsheathed her Great-Sword and began walking down the hall, "Let's go kill the young Wolf. We'll deal with Alison later."

Alison continued to fight and struggle against the Hunters grip to no avail as he dragged her along down the quiet white halls. Past dark lounge rooms, small offices and restrooms that clashed heavily with the dark aesthetic of the woman leading them to Isaac's cell.

They were close. She didn't know the inside of the Station, but she could hear something banging against the metal bars of a cell in the distance. They were too late.

She sagged against the Hunter at the realization as they passed a corridor of windows that gave a view to the parking lots outside in front and in back.

It was dark. Too dark with the building blocking the light of the Snow Moon. Not even a street light glowed. Her skin chilled beneath the covering of sweat.

As if in response, something roared. A distant sound not loud enough to fully get past the windows. But the closeness of it still made them all flinch.

The armored Hunter at the front stopped and spun towards the sound, unholstering her fifty caliber and raising her sword. Her movements were fluid-- fast despite her heavy armor. She was strong. Unnaturally strong.

The hunter faced the window on their left where the sound emanated from. The front parking lot.

"Derek?" She thought for a moment before remembering the roar. Not a howl, but a roar. Something she'd never heard before. More Feline than Canine.

It came again, almost robotic. And she flinched once more.

"Come on, you bastard! I was getting tired of these neutered Wolf-Men anyway...give me a challenge.....I dare you." The armored Knight teased.

Silence. Not a single sound but Alison and the Hunter's breaths. They sat in the dark hallway of windows for another span of seconds before the roar came again. Timed, identical to the last. Unmistakably robotic.

"That's not real..." Alison mumbled.

"I think I see something..." The Hunter that held Alison said.

"Go check." The armored Hunter commanded, making no attempts to move.

Something told Alison there was a reason the visibly more experienced armored Hunter wouldn't make a move for the window.

Her stomach lurched as she was dragged to the window.

Her and the Hunter stopped a mere few inches from the dark reinforced glass. All that met them were their reflections and the darkness outside.

The roar came again. She didn't flinch this time, instead following the sound with her eyes to where it originated from. Right below the window.

The next time it came, she found it and immediately understood why the sound was so robotic.

In the bushes that bordered the parking lot and rested below the windows they looked through, she could see the electronic blue glow of what looked to be a speaker. When the sound came again, she could faintly see the leaves of the bushes shake in response to the quaking sound.

Before she could tell the Hunters, the lights went out with an audible crash. This time, they all flinched.

Darkness welcomed them, triggering a panicked boost of adrenaline that had Alison's jellied legs shaking like they were supercharged by electricity.

"Stay calm. Do not move. Follow my voice-- I'm getting us away from the windows." The female Hunter said, the gleam of her silver sword visible even in darkness.

They followed. Eager to stay as close as possible and escape the mechanical recording of inhuman roars that now felt like an ominous countdown. Each roar made it feel as if something was growing closer, in unison with the pulse of her heart. Boom...Boom...Boom---

The lights outside cut back on. Possibly due to a backup generator cutting in-- possibly just to continue their shared torment.

Whatever the reason, she suddenly wished they would've stayed off.

"Oh my god..." She forced out as they all looked out at the parking lot.

Bodies. Everywhere. Seemingly on que, the Moon rose. Shining more light on the massacre. Dead Hunters laid on top of cars, throats removed and discarded on the black pavement with their expensive armor left in loosely fit shreds. Others were stuffed in the hood of their trucks, leaving only their lower halves visible as blood dripped from under the car like a visible oil leak. Alison gagged when she found an arm laying in the pavement.

Despite all the madness, the sight held a shape. All the cars pushed out in a circle, all the dead bodies respecting the circle. Inside said circle, the black pavement of the parking lot was covered in blood that glimmered under the Moonlight in the shape of a spiral.

She'd seen the design before, but for the life of her she couldn't remember what it meant.

Before she could think anymore on it, they'd exited the hallway of windows. Entering the second half of the building bordered by tan walls and interrogation rooms.

The armored Hunter stopped and turned to face them.

"Let her go." She said in her usual shockingly deep, yet undeniably feminine voice.

"But.."

"Let her go, now. Unless you want to die and kill the Argent's daughter with you." The female Hunter said.

The Hunter loosened his grip on Alison. For the first time she could breathe comfortably.

"Why?" He asked.

The armored Hunter grimaced, "Didn't you see what happened out there, you twat?"

"W-- Well ya--"

"This mission just went above your pay-grade. This isn't the usual hunt for your feral-men of the Western world. Don't you get it? The WereWolves we've been killing aren't Fully Synthesized.....last time I saw something like this was when we located a rogue pack of WereWolves in Pakistan."

Alison and the Hunter that held her were completely out of their depth, "What?"

"Fully Synthesized.....With their Beast! The WereWolves here are either new or try to restrict what they are in most cases. None of them are Fully Synthesized with their Beast. They're categorized as Feral-Men in my Unit. They're unmistakably human aside from a few animalistic traits...easier to kill but also easier to hide. What you saw out there was the work of a Fully Synthesized Shifter. Equal parts Monster and Man. We need all the weapons we can get trained on this fucker, so let the girl go and get ready for war. Now!" The female hunter snapped.

Alison was let go in a flash, left to consider her words and the only thing that came to mind. Peter Hale.

The male Hunter behind her leaned up against the glass of the interrogation room at his back as he unholstered his pistol and checked the magazine.

"Off the window, dumbass." The female hunter commanded in her deep english accented voice while she walked further ahead.

The hunter fumbled with his gun as he pushed off the glass, bumping into Alison along the way.

"What-- are you still planning to kill Isaac? With whatever you called it waiting outside? Shouldn't we be calling for backup? Or be r-running?" Alison asked.

"No. I'm all the backup we need as long as your Hunter nuts up and watches my six. Now shut u--"

The female hunters words were cut off by the ear splitting shattering of glass coming from behind Alison and the male Hunter.

Following the sound, something whistled through the air and sunk into flesh with a wet sinking sound. Suddenly the male Hunter behind Alison was rocketing past her vision and slamming into the wall at her left.

His body collided with the wall with a meaty crunch and was held in place by the silver-tipped spear pinning him to the wall.

Her head spun to where the projectile emerged from. The interrogation room. A large shadow loomed behind the window, fitted with two icy blue eyes that made her blood freeze. She couldn't move, time slowed, her throat squeezed. It felt like she was experiencing sleep paralysis in real life, forced upon her despite being wide awake.

And then, movement came rushing back into reality.

The Beast moved. One moment it stood behind the window at a towering seven feet, then she blinked, and the Monster was bursting through the glass with a single deadly bound, covered in cloth wrappings, dark armor accented with animal furs and insulated with Kevlar. No glowing markings lined the Beasts hooded cloak or armor, just scratch marks and steaming bullet holes.

Bullets whistled past Alison's ears and through her hair as the female Hunter ahead of her tried to lace the creature with silver the second it's feet hit the ground.

Before she could react, the cloaked Beast turned and shoved her, it's curved and deadly sharp claws tore into her leather jacket as she was taken off her feet and thrown down the hall like a ragdoll.

"You take off our armor!! Who gave you that!!?" The female Hunter screamed as she let off round after round from her Desert Eagle, causing flashes of light to emanate from her gun and illuminate the Beasts silhouette in the hallway while it bounded after her. Sometimes on two inhuman legs ending in massive pawed feet, other times on all fours with it's claws clicking on the ground loudly.

The bullets hit the Beast, Alison could hear them dig into it's armor, but it never slowed. And in what felt like the blink of an eye, she was out. Resulting in her throwing her pistol.

What happened next confused Alison-- maybe due to her concussed state...maybe due to the absolute lack of realism taking place inside the police station. Either way, as her eyes closed, the last thing she saw stayed in her memory. Even in unconsciousness.

The Beast lunged, at breakneck speeds, rising high enough that it's fluttering cloak brushed against the ceiling.

The Hunter it descended upon screamed in anger, raising her open hand where a glowing marking remained, etched in her armor.

Before Alison could see the Beast connect, a chaotic stream of lightning and purple flames exploded from the Hunters palm, illuminating the hallways in violet and removing them both from her vision as she faded from consciousness inside the now burning building.

The last thing she was able to hear was the Beast's roar. Unmistakably real....full of life-- full of intensity that made the previously seen blast of electrical fire feel like a small spark in comparison. It was horrifying, underlined with a somber dark cry that made it undeniably beautiful in a way she couldn't describe...