Chaos Returns

11

Void

I grab Scott's throat, wrapping my fingers around his neck. He barely has time to react as I slam him into the wall Argent had been leaning on, hard enough to create a dent. My powers are still weak from the wolf lichen, but to my satisfaction, Stiles isn't resisting my control. In fact, I think he might even be helping me. I stare at Scott, he's terrified. His heart is beating rapidly. Too fast. I almost smile as his lip begins to tremble and he closes his eyes.

"You are nothing, Scott." I say, pressing down harder. I want to snap his neck right here and now. "We see you as nothing more than a coward." I whisper harshly, and he turns away from me; I pull his face back. "You can't kill us, Scott. You can't threaten us. You can't beat us. You tried playing my game before and you lost." I add more pressure, causing him to choke. "You may try to outsmart us, but we will always be two steps ahead."

No one in his pack moves. It has to be out of fear, they all stand silently as they watch me choke their alpha. Not even his mother steps forward. Scott's eyes begin to flutter back, exposing the whites as he loses consciousness. Soon, he stops gagging, he stops struggling, and I let go. He crumples to the ground. Not dead, but close enough to it. He won't stay down for long, we all know it. 

I turn, facing them. 

All Stiles' old friends are staring, in shock; terror, as if they don't know him anymore. They don't. They haven't for 20 years. But they should know that him and I both are not the same as we were then. They killed Ella, they killed Abby. They should know that there will be repercussions. They should know that those repercussions will be death. 

"Do not get in our way," I say, unrolling my sleeves, "if you do, that siren won't be the only thing I kill tonight." And from the looks on their faces as I take my leave, I know that they believe me. 

The drive back to the apartment is quiet, the music on the radio playing faintly from the speakers. Stiles is back in control and hasn't said a word, his main focus is on the road even though he had run every single stop sign and light since leaving Scott's house. 

"Stiles. I would appreciate it if you obeyed the law." His father says after four or five red lights. "Just a suggestion though. It's not like I'm a cop or anything."

"Do you still have the house?" Stiles asks, glancing at the Sheriff in the passenger seat. 

"Uh- yeah. Why?"

"Is my old room still free?"

"Besides a few boxes and clutter, I would think so. I've only gone into it a few times. It might be a bit dusty though."

"I'm going to leave Val and Carter with you for tonight, is that alright?" He asks. "I can't send them back to the apartment, I called the authorities before I left so I'm assuming they're there by now." I seem to be the only one to realize how his voice hitched mid sentence, no one else knows how much he is hurting right now. He does a damn good job at hiding it.  

His father nods. "And you? Where are you going?"

"I have a siren to kill." He takes a sharp left, heading towards his old neighborhood. Two minutes later, he pulls over to the curb, stopping in front of his house. Carter, Valerie, and the Sheriff get out. "I'll be back soon. They'll eat anything but brussel sprouts." Stiles shouts out the window as the his father and kids walk up the driveway. "Oh, and make sure they don't have too much sugar." The Sheriff shakes his head and smiles, giving Stiles a thumbs up. 

Stiles

Ella always said they shouldn't have too much sugar. She went after me for buying sweets for them too. And I can't stop thinking about it as I drive. She never liked that I brought home chocolate and candy, even though we're supernatural. I grip the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. 

Calm down, Stiles. Save your rage. Void says, and I relax a bit. Where are you bringing us anyways. 

The beach. It's where Malia, Allison and Lydia were when they saw it. 

Smart thinking. He pauses. But how are we going to find it?

We won't.

What do you mean?

"We don't find the siren." I explain aloud, turning onto another street. "The siren will find us."

And that's when the rain hits. First it's only a couple drops, but then it gets worse. The wind is pushing the truck around the road, the rain not helping in the slightest. I swear, barely controlling the wheel as I squint to see through the wet windshield. In a span of three minutes, the weather went from clear night skies, to a hurricane. Leaves and sticks are flying through the air, hitting the trucks body and windows. 

Pull over, Stiles. You're going to get us killed. 

I can't even see the side of the road. How am I supposed to- I don't get to finish my sentence. A loud pop comes from outside of the truck, the vehicle gradually begins to lean over to one side. "Dammit." I exclaim, knowing the sound of a blow tire when I hear it. I press the breaks. "God fucking dammit." I hit the wheel with my fist. Annoyed, I open the door and get out, slamming it. My clothes and hair instantly soaked with rain as I walk alongside the truck. I honestly don't care about that, but I do care about a punctured tire. I approach it, expecting a rock or stick to have impaled it. 

What I didn't expect, was an arrow. 

I crouch down, running my fingers along the shaft before gripping it and pulling it out. It has a mechanical broad tip, one that opens up when hitting the target. I would know. I used to use them for large game hunting with Val. I examine it, turning it over in my hand. 

Get down Stiles. Void urges in my head, and I listen. I push my stomach flat to the ground, my wet shirt sticking to the pavement. I hear a whistle, then a thud. I look up, finding an arrow embedded into the bumper of the truck, right where my neck would have been. With blood pulsing in my ears, I roll to the side, underneath the vehicle. 

The guns. I tell Void. They're in the truck. 

Quickly. I don't plan on dying tonight.

I take a large breath, and then I roll back out from under the truck. An arrow whizzes past my head as I stand, skimming my ear and piercing the window. Whoever is aiming for me, they're shooting to kill. I hit the window with my elbow, reaching in over the broken glass and grabbing the black duffle bag from on top of the seat. I stay low as I run towards the building the archer had shot from. Another arrow hits the ground to my left, creating bright sparks despite the rain. 

I curse as I almost lose my balance, catching myself on the buildings wall. I push myself off the bricks, diving for the front doors before the archer get another shot out. I pull them open and scramble inside, my adrenaline barely lessening as I scan the first floor of the dark building. 

I flip my dripping wet hair out of my eyes, letting out a heavy exhale.  

And then I hear footsteps. 

With panic once again rising in my throat, I push myself flat against the nearest wall, hiding within the shadows. Whoever the archer is, they are walking down the stairs. I can only listen as they grow nearer, taking at least four flights before reaching the one I'm on. Their footsteps echo, one after the other, like a set rhythm. 

And they begin to whistle.