𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 // stiles x oc

[ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 ]

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

The pitch was now lit only by the blueish glow of the crescent moon.

Aurora blinked, silhouettes rushing past her, people hurrying past to their cars or searching for loved ones.

A hand wrapped around her forearm, the girl looking up to see the faint outline of Scott's features.

"Aurora? Hey, are you okay?" He asked, looking down on her. She returned a nod, "What's happening?" She questioned, trying to look out across the field.

The boy didn't answer, instead he pulled her forward onto the grass.

As they headed towards the centre, Scott flinched backwards, knocking into his mother. He took his grip off of Aurora's arm, "Are you okay?" He asked her, taking hold of the woman's shoulders.

"I'm fine— I'm fine. But someone's hurt, someone on the field." She informed them, just as the lights began to crackle back to life. Across the field, a crowd was formed by one of the goals.

"He's not moving."

"Someone call an ambulance!" Voices called.

"All right, get back. Get back!" Ordered Coach.

The man began to pull his frightened players aside, Aurora, Melissa and Scott instantly rushing over to discover who the injured player was.

The crowd dispersed to reveal a lifeless Jackson.

The werewolves stopped in their tracks, shocked by the sight. Lydia hurtled past, followed by Melissa, pushing aside players twice their size, "Jackson? What's happening— What happened?" The girl cried, both her and Melissa dropping down beside him.

The woman took Jackson's wrist, feeling for a pulse. She then put her ear against his chest. A quiet fell over the waiting crowd.

"He's not breathing. No pulse."

A look of horror washed over Lydia's face, her hand clasping over her mouth, "Oh God— There's blood— There's blood on him." She sobbed, pointing to punctures and tears on the side of his jersey, soaked in red.

Melissa reached around his body to inspect the wound.

Isaac appeared in between Scott and Aurora, now wearing the same expression as the two, "Look." Scott muttered. They followed his eyes to see blood on the tips of Jackson's fingers, perfectly matching the puncture wounds.

"He did it to himself?" Isaac guessed, Aurora and him exchanging a confused glance.

With sirens now rising in the distance, Scott's mom began to preform chest compressions. A tear-stained Lydia sitting helplessly by her former boyfriend, her hand gently cupping his.

"Hold his head tilted up, okay?" Melissa told the girl. She nodded, moving her hands carefully up to his head.

His mouth lay open, still not breathing as Melissa tried to get his heart started.

A few feet away, Sheriff Stilinski turned from the scene glancing through the crowd, "Where's Stiles?" He questioned.

Aurora's head shot around, Scott and Isaac also doing so.

"Where's my son?" The man looked to the three, none of whom could seem to answer.

Aurora peered back, her eyes scanning the players. She bit down on her lip.

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Deputies finished questioning players while Stilinski spoke with the three werewolves. The man flipped through his note pad, his hands noticeably shaky.