Teen Wolf: The Alternate Path

Chapter Sixteen: Shadow of the Beast

The night air was charged with a tension that seemed almost palpable, vibrating with the echo of danger that had become all too familiar in Beacon Hills. From the shadows, a new terror emerged, stalking the unsuspecting and leaving chaos in its wake. This time, the threat wore a new face, that of a lizard-like shapeshifter whose killing spree had escalated into a reign of terror. Yet, amidst this unfolding nightmare, it was Stiles' peril that consumed my every thought, drawing me into the fray once more.

The night air was thick with tension, every breath I took felt like inhaling static—charged with the threat of what was out there, hunting us. My heart pounded in my chest, an erratic rhythm that matched the urgency of my thoughts. I could feel it in my bones—a visceral, burning sensation that told me Stiles was in danger. Without a second thought, I was in my car, speeding through the dark streets of Beacon Hills, my mind racing as fast as the engine. The road blurred beneath me, but my focus was unerring, every fibre of my being drawn to him, to the mechanic's garage where I knew he'd be.

When I reached the garage, the smell of oil and metal hit me like a punch, but all I could see was Stiles, crumpled on the floor, his body stiff and unresponsive. Panic clawed at my insides as I rushed to his side, pulling him close. 'Don't touch my hands,' he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. For a moment, my heart clenched with the sting of perceived rejection, but his explanation followed swiftly, defusing the misplaced hurt. 'I touched something gross... I think it caused this paralysis.' Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived, replaced by a fierce protectiveness. Holding him against me, his weight pressed into mine, felt like the only thing keeping the world from falling apart.

In the aftermath of the garage incident, the scent of oil and metal lingered in my senses, a harsh reminder of the night's terror. As I sat with Stiles, his body paralysed against mine, a cascade of emotions flooded through me. Fear, above all, gripped my heart—a fear not just of the creature that stalked us, but of losing Stiles, the one person who had become my one, albeit painful anchor in this chaos. My mind raced, reflecting on our journey together, the moments of levity amidst the darkness, and how his presence had become a light guiding me through my own turmoil. His vulnerability in that moment, relying on me to keep him safe, only deepened the bond I felt, cementing a connection built on trust and unspoken promises.

The next day, as Jackson approached me with a request to enhance his video recording from the night before, the mundane nature of the task was a stark contrast to the night's adrenaline. Yet, as I examined the footage, an anomaly caught my eye—an edit that seemed to mask a crucial moment. My discovery, though small, felt like a victory, a piece of the puzzle that brought us one step closer to understanding the creature that haunted Beacon Hills. Sharing this discovery with Jackson, I hoped to shed light on the darkness that enveloped us.

With my parents baring down on her every move, and our grandfather now the principle, Allison and Scott upped the security around their relationship, completely avoiding being seen together during school hours. Stiles, ever the strategist, darted between Allison and me, his determination adorable as he sought information about the bestiary our grandfather kept—a tome that promised answers yet remained shrouded in mystery.

The lacrosse field, a place where teenage rivalries usually played out, became the backdrop for a more personal battle. A head injury from the opposing team benched me, side lining me from the game but not from the fight. The throbbing pain in my head was soon eclipsed by a sharper, more urgent sense of danger—Stiles was in peril once again. Driven by a maelstrom of concern, anger, and anticipation, I left the field behind, my every instinct screaming that I needed to find him.

The journey was a blur, the pain in my head intensifying with each passing moment. Yet, nothing could deter me from reaching Stiles. As I arrived at the pool, the sight that greeted me was one of desperation and determination—an unconscious Erica, and Stiles, struggling to keep a paralysed Derek afloat. Standing in the shadows of the viewing bay, I felt something shift inside me, a pull that was both alien and instinctual. The lizard-like creature moved in the distance, its predatory gaze fixed on Stiles. My heart pounded in my ears, a drumbeat of urgency that drowned out everything else. I closed my eyes, focusing all my energy on one thought: 'You're afraid of the water.' The words reverberated through me, a mantra that seemed to reach beyond my mind, touching some unseen force within me. Power surged through my veins, hot and electric, and for a moment, the creature hesitated, as if my thought had pierced its very consciousness. But the effort left me drained, pain searing through my body like a wildfire, burning me from the inside out, unlike anything I'd ever experienced. A pain that transcended the physical and delved into the depths of my very being.