Changed

Nearly Over

Scott turns to look at Jennifer, a malicious snarl playing on his lips. And then he launches himself at her. He slashes and scrapes, tearing her apart, ripping every piece of open skin he can find.

"Scott, STOP!" Derek's voice erupts from behind us and we all swivel around to see him sprinting toward us, his claws out.

He grabs Scott's waist and hoists him into the air, as if he's a little child. Scott continues to frantically punch and kick and slit at the air, his efforts a waste of energy.

"Scott! Calm down!" Derek scolds, holding back his arms and setting Scott on the ground.

Scott finally stills, his chest heaving with deep breaths.

"She...killed...Stiles!" He screams, and then he starts bawling.

Big, juicy, sloppy tears pour down his cheeks in buckets, falling onto his shirt and his pants and the ground.

I start to cry, too, my mind finally wrapping around the fact that Stiles is...is dead.

Isaac just looks miserable, shocked into silence, he sits, staring at the trap door, his blue eyes dull and wide.

There are tears running down every single person's cheeks, except Derek, he's not one to cry.

Scott now crumbles to the ground at Derek's feet, his eyes red and blotchy.

And then a cough rumbles from below us.

And then more coughs, a fit of them, followed but spitting, choking, and sputtering for air.

And then...

"SCOTT!" Stiles's voice breaks through the silence, his screams filling our ears.

Scott lifts his head and looks around, sure he's hearing things.

But we all heard it.

Isaac starts scratching at the trap door, fumbling blindly with the handle. "STILES! WE'RE COMING! DONT MOVE!"

"WHERE AM I GONNA GO?" Stiles calls back, and I laugh with relief.

He's alive.

He's not dead.

Scott is just realizing this is actually happening, and he's gotten to his feet, helping Isaac with the door.

"Isaac pull on three," Scott says, "One. Two."

"THREE!" They both yank together and it budges open, causing them all to fall back on their butts.

They scramble to their feet and launch themselves, one after the other, into the hole.

I look at Derek, who's just watching all the action, give him a cold glare, and throw myself down the trap door.

I land with a thud on top of Isaac, who pushes himself to his feet, pulling me with him.

"Sorry," I mumble, patting his chest.

He laughs. "No problem."

We all split up and search the root cellar, going in different directions.

I hear a huge crash and a rush of adrenaline courses through my veins.

I search behind branches, roots, leaves, and fallen patches of grass, searching for any sign of human life.

And then I hear a call from Scott. "SHERIFF STILINSKI IS OVER HERE GUYS!"

I hear shuffling and falling crates, as Isaac scrambles to Scott.

I can't see them, but I hear their grunts and shouts of effort, and I guess they're trying to lug Stilinski out of the hole.

And then I catch sight of Scott and Isaac dropping back from the trap door, landing on their feet next to each other and sprinting in opposite directions.

I hear Derek's voice from above as I throw a crate of something wavy to the side. "I think he's unconscious."

"Is he breathing?" Definitely Derek.

"Yes, I think so." Isaac.

I block them out and sprint around, pushing everything out of my path, trying to find any sign of Stiles.

And then as I'm looking behind a particularly thick root, I catch a glimpse of a finger, sticking out from behind a jumble of branches and bright green leaves.

"Stiles?" I whisper to myself, throwing aside the roots, smashing them to the ground.

I pull his hand as hard as I can, and the rest of his arm breaks free. It looks black, correction, it IS black. It's completely covered in soot and dirt and grime.

What does the rest of his body look like?😁

I rip the roots to shreds until I am able to drag his whole boy away from the putrid corner of the root cellar.

"Stiles! Stiles?" He doesn't respond and he doesn't move.

He's out.

"Scott!" I call over my shoulder. "Isaac!"

But neither of them show up.

They can't hear me.

I grip Stiles's grimy body, covered from head to toe in grub, and drag him as far as possible.

"SCOTT! ISAAC!" And then I go out on a limb. "DEREK!"

And just my luck, Derek drops through the opening.

"Cora? Cora, where are you?"

I consider not answering, but I can't risk Stiles like that. "Over here! Derek, help!"

He comes skidding to a halt at my side, throws Stiles's limp body over his shoulder and hops back through the hole.

Well, that was easy.

I follow him, yelling to Scott, who comes out close behind me.

Isaac leans over Stiles and the sheriff, feeling their wrists and their chests.

"Neither." He says.

"What?" Derek asks with a puzzled expression.

Isaac looks up, a look of horror and misery on his face. "Neither of them are breathing."