{Latin ^ Means Hide and Seek} Wednesday, Friday 2nd 2011 {Day 25}
{Words: 2556}
Scott and Stiles desperately grip the door handles, exerting all their strength as the school doors slam shut with a resounding thud, quivering on their hinges. Morwen remains fixated on the lingering scent of Derek's blood, their senses overwhelmed.
Scott's frustration boils over as he barks, "Lock it! Lock the doors!"
Stiles sneers back, his voice tinged with panic, "Do I look like I have a key?"
Scott frantically scans the surroundings, his eyes landing on Morwen, who seems lost in their thoughts. Realizing their distraction, he calls out urgently, "Morwen, snap out of it! Breathe!"
Morwen's chest tightens, and an overwhelming sense of dread washes over them. The room spins, and their heart races erratically. Their breath becomes shallow and rapid, struggling to find its rhythm. Panic grips them tightly, as fear and uncertainty consume their thoughts. They clench their fists, desperately trying to regain control, but the panic continues to surge through their veins, threatening to overwhelm them completely.
Morwen's eyes widen as they snap out of their panic-induced state. They take a deep, shaky breath, feeling the rush of air fill their lungs.
Scott and Morwen both speak in unison, their voices filled with concern and urgency, pleading with Stiles not to go outside. "Don't do it, Stiles—"
Stiles grips the bolt cutters tightly in his hands, feeling the weight and the cold metal against his palms. He turns around to face Morwen and Scott, who are anxiously watching him from the safety of the glass doors. He can see the unspoken words on their lips, the desire to warn him, to tell him to come back inside. But he also sees the trust in their eyes, the belief that he can handle whatever lies ahead.
With a determined expression, Stiles nods at them, silently assuring them that he's going to be okay. He takes a deep breath and mouths the words, "I'll be back." And then, with a surge of courage, he ventures back into the darkness, ready to face whatever awaits him.
Scott, Morwen, and Stiles exchange anxious glances as the sound of metal hitting tile reverberates through the classroom. Their bodies tense, and their hearts race as they realize they are not alone in the room.
Stiles exclaims, "The desk—the desk!" They quickly move behind the teacher's desk, intending to use it as a barricade against the approaching threat.
Their movements are hastened by the loud scream of metal hitting tile. The noise startles them, and they know that time is running out.
Stiles shakes his head, urgency in his voice as he interjects, "Hold on—"
Morwen's voice joins in, echoing the plea, "Wait!" They speak in rapid succession, their words filled with concern.
Stiles lowers his voice, his words barely audible, "The door won't keep it out."
Morwen nods, their neck slightly strained as they respond, "I understand—"
Stiles shakes his head, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation, "It's your boss."
Scott lets out a frustrated groan, his voice laced with irritation, as he questions, "Seriously?... What?"
Stiles nods, his expression morphing into a slight frown, "Deaton. The Alpha. Your boss."
Scott's expression turns defiant as he sneers, denying the possibility, "No—"
