The Other Tribrid

A School For The Supernatural

It had been months since Stiles had left Beacon Hills, months of surviving on his own. Word had gotten around in the supernatural community that the former human/former possessed host had become a supernatural himself. Ever since then Stiles had gone dark, kept a low profile, as everywhere he went. Hunters were nearby to cash in on the bounty that was on his head.

'When we're young, we're taught the distinction between a hero and a villain, good and evil, a savior and a lost cause. At this point, I don't know which one I am. I have ran and hidden, done horrible things to survive. I'm not even sure if I'm worth saving. My name is Stiles Stilinski, and I'm a cross between three monsters, all of them having histories of death and violence. And everyday I get closer to becoming more like them.' Stiles wrote in his journal as he was perched on a ledge from a building.

He then closed the book and placed it in his backpack as it contained the rest of his belongings. Stiles then heard commotion come from beneath him, he watched as a woman was about to get mugged. He sighed before rolling his neck to the side. Stiles let out a relieved sigh as he heard it crack.

"Atta boy." He said before putting on the hood as it covered his face before dropping down below. The woman screamed as she saw Stiles' eyes glow. The mugger looked at her confused before turning around to be met by Stiles. "Tell me, have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?" He asked the mugger before punching him in the face, knocking him out.

Stiles shook his head and scoffed, "No one ever gets my references." He muttered passing the bag to the lady before speeding off leaving the woman to wonder about what the hell just happened. Stiles smiled as he loved to run feeling the earth beneath his feet and the wind on his face. Stiles smelled something like a wolf, concerned he followed it and he found himself at a catholic church, with a van parked in front of it with a large S logo on it.

Curious Stiles took a closer look peeking through the doors to see a young girl about sixteen or seventeen, a guy with a crossbow, a curly haired boy who looked very scared, and a black wolf covered in chains with glowing yellow eyes.

"You gotta be shitting me." Stiles said and everyone turned toward him,"Oh, sorry did I say that out loud." Stiles said covering his mouth, "If you all could just forget I was here, I'll just be on my merry way." The girl flicked her wrist and the doors closed, keeping Stiles from leaving.

Annoyed Stiles looked at the girl and the closer he looked the more he realized he knew her, "Hope Marshall." he said surprised, eyes widening. Hope looked confused, "Who the hell are you?" Stiles pulled down his hood and she recognized him immediately.

"Mischief." Hope said using her old nickname for him. Stiles inwardly cringed at the sound of the
nickname, "Yeah and it's Stiles now."

"You know him, too?" The guy with the
crossbow asked. "Much longer story." Hope replied.

***

Stiles sat awkwardly in the very back of
the van, having been forced to come by
Hope. "So, how do you know them?" the man Stiles found out whose name was Alaric asked Hope.

"My mom and I stayed in Beacon Hills for a while and Stiles was one of my best friends there." Hope answered, "And Landon used to serve milkshakes at the Mystic Grill."

"Peanut butter blast." Landon said speaking up, "With whipped cream at the bottom. We danced once." He added.

"We tried." Hope corrected a small smile
growing on her face.

"Where are you taking us?" Stiles asked
speaking up for the first time since they left the church.

"Somewhere safe." Alaric answered. "Safe for me, usually means to keep moving." Stiles mumbled, but Hope's wolf ears heard it and it confused her.