Chapter Ten: Wolf's Bane

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Some day in February, Night Time (PST)
Location:, Beacon Hills California
A Few Days After The Thing At The School Probably

Third Person POV:

While the sky outside his classroom windows darkens to night, Mr. Harris finishes cleaning up chemical supplies. With the exasperated sigh of someone who clearly has not had a good day, he shuts the supply cabinet. Harris picks up his notebook from his desk, about to put it in his briefcase, when something catches his eye-- A wrinkled piece of paper. He gazes at it, head tilting in confusion. Written on the paper are names and addresses.

The first one is David M. Harris, name and address crossed off. The second is Lionel B. Harris. Also crossed off. Grant S. Harris, Thomas M. Harris, and on and on until down at the bottom his eyes pause on a name that isn't crossed off: Adrian R. Harris. He slowly lowers the paper from his eyes, revealing the NamePlate on his desk: Prof. Adrian R. Harris. He glances at the open door out to the hallway. Not a sound in the darkened school.

Quickly folding up the paper, Harris stuffs it in his briefcase. Just as he's starting toward the door, he pauses. Breath held, he stands very still.

"Please, don't kill me." Mr. Harris begs.

Behind him, a silhouetted figure moves ever-so-slightly in the darkness. It speaks with an odd whispery voice of The Alpha.

"Do you know who wrote that list?" The Alpha asks.

Harris doesn't respond. The figure starts forward.

"Answer me." The Alpha demands.

"Laura--Laura Hale." Mr. Harris responds.

"Do you know why she was looking for you?" The Alpha asks.

Harris shakes his head. Terrified, he barely breathes.

"I know why. Turn around, Adrian. Turn around and I'll show you." The Alpha says.

But Harris doesn't move, paralyzed with fear. Strange Sounds begin emanating from behind him as the silhouette grows larger, rising up, changing shape.

"Turn around." The Alphas says.

"No. Please." Mr. Harris begs.

"Look at me. Look at what you've done." The Alpha yells.

Harris closes his eyes, shaking his head again and again. A table flips up past him, slamming against the wall.

"Oh, God--" Mr. Harris says.

But then another voice jolts his eyes open.

"Get down!" Derek roars.

Harris blinks, Derek suddenly in front of him, grabbing his jacket and yanking him out of the way as-- Another table goes tumbling. They both look up to see the rear exit door of the Chemistry room clattering against the wall, the Alpha gone. Half on the floor, Harris clutches at Derek when--bright lights flood through the windows. A voice comes booming from a bullhorn.

"Hands up! This is the Sheriff's Department. Do not move!" A policeman's voice can be heard yelling.

Derek pushes Harris off him and moves. Fast. Feet landing on pavement, Derek runs for it. He charges down one dimly lit alleyway, tearing around the corner as-- Two Deputy Sheriff Cars blast out of the darkness into the street. Sirens blare as their tires rip up the pavement. Noah expertly spins the wheel with one hand, while putting his CB radio to his lips with the other.

"Repeat, suspect is on foot. We're in pursuit headed northwest--" Noah calls over the radio.

Derek runs as fast as he can, pausing only to notice headlights bursting out from around a corner. But this time it's not a Deputy Sheriff's car--Argent drives, cell phone to his ear.

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