Venom [2]

08

𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃
we don't have a lot but we have each other

HOPE ALONG WITH Scott, Stiles, Isaac, and Lizzie, all sat on the floor of Scott's bedroom, surrounding a bag full of money.

"After entering the IP address, you will be connected through a Darknet portal to an untraceable bank. Once logged in, enter your account number to receive wire transfers. The IP address will deactivate with each transfer. You will be assigned a new IP address if you choose to continue down the list. Remember, visual confirmation is always required for payment."

Hope snapped her fingers from where she sat, and the recording stopped. The five teenagers sat in silence, the only sound being from the rain pattering down the windows and their breathing.

Stiles spoke up and asked, "Any of you ever made a wire transfer?"

"Never had enough money," Scott replied while the others simply shook their heads.

"So I'm not the only one that didn't understand a word of that?" Isaac scoffed, looking between his small group of friends.

"I don't understand any of this," the alpha agreed, "why would someone use all of this money just to kill us?"

Stiles sighed, "someone wants you three dead, dude. Badly."

Lizzie looked at her chipped nails and rose a brow. "Boy am I glad that I am not on those lists."

Stiles looked up at her, narrowing his caramel eyes. "You could still be on the last one for all we know."

Hope reached forward and placed her hand on Lizzie's knee seeing as they were sat side by side. "Don't worry. We're going to figure this out and take care of the problem."

"This is still so weird," Lizzie looked between Hope and the boys. "I have never imagined in my life that Hope Mikaelson would willingly work with people to help her with problems."

It was as if something had switched in Scott's brain and he started to frantically place the stacks of money back into the red sports bag.

Stiles frowned at his best friend. "Hey, woah, buddy, what are you doing?"

"It's late," Scott huffed, not quitting his actions, "we've got the PSATs in the morning."

"No, I meant the money," Stiles pointed at the bag, "the five-hundred-thousand dollars. You know how much money that is?"

"It's five-hundred-thou-"