Chapter 11: The Thrill of the First Fight

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Scott's eyes gleamed as he stared at the ghoul before him. The creature snarled, its white eyes gleaming with hunger, its putrid stench filling the air. Scott could hear its low growls, the tension in its muscles as it prepared to lunge. Despite the looming danger, Scott wasn't scared. In fact, he felt a rush of excitement. His heart pounded with anticipation, not fear. This was his first real fight since coming to this world, and while he hadn't gone through his first full moon yet and couldn't fully shift, he had enough power to handle this. He was certain of it.

His claws extended from his fingers—sharp, deadly weapons that glistened in the fading light. They felt foreign but familiar at the same time, like an old instinct waking up inside him. He flexed his hands, testing them, before turning his attention back to the ghoul.

"Alright, let's see what you've got," Scott muttered under his breath, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Behind him, Stiles was practically glued to a tree, his face a mix of terror and disbelief. "Uh, Scott? You sure you don't want Derek to help with this one?" His voice cracked slightly.

Scott glanced over his shoulder, giving Stiles a reassuring smile. "Relax, Stiles. I've got this."

Derek, on the other hand, wasn't as easy to dismiss. He stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his jaw clenched in frustration. He didn't like being told to stay out of a fight, especially one involving a monster. But Scott had insisted, and now Derek was watching, his eyes burning with disbelief and anger.

"You're not ready for this, kid," Derek growled. "You don't even know how to fully shift yet."

Scott shrugged, his eyes never leaving the ghoul, which was circling him like a predator. "Don't need to shift to handle this guy. He's not as tough as he looks."

The ghoul let out a guttural snarl, then pounced. It moved with a speed that would have caught most people off guard, but Scott was already in motion. He ducked low, his wolf senses sharpening, and swiped his claws across the ghoul's side. The creature yelped, stumbling back, but its wounds began to heal almost instantly, the torn flesh knitting itself together with a sickening squelch.

"Well, that's annoying," Scott muttered, though his grin only widened.

The ghoul lunged again, swiping its razor-sharp claws at Scott's torso. He dodged most of the blows, but one caught him across the arm, drawing blood. The pain was sharp, but brief. Scott glanced at the wound as it began to close up almost as fast as the ghoul's had. The thrill of it all sent a jolt of adrenaline through him. This was it—his first real taste of what it meant to be a werewolf. His body was adapting, healing, and growing stronger with every second.

"Okay, that's great," Scott said, marveling at the speed of his recovery.

The ghoul roared in frustration and lunged again. This time, Scott didn't dodge. He met the creature head-on, their bodies clashing in a flurry of claws and teeth. The ghoul's claws scraped against Scott's chest, but he barely felt it. He was in control. He felt invincible. Scott's claws found their mark again and again, tearing through the ghoul's tough, gray skin. The creature staggered back, clearly hurt but still healing rapidly.

Stiles, who had been silent for most of the fight, suddenly found his voice. "Dude! You're totally kicking its ass! I mean, seriously, that thing's like some kind of death zombie, and you're just—" Stiles paused, waving his hands wildly in the air, "—*destroying* it!"

Scott smirked, never taking his eyes off the ghoul. "It's not over yet, Stiles."

Derek watched the battle with narrowed eyes, his earlier anger slowly giving way to something else—surprise, maybe even respect. This kid—this *Scott*—wasn't just some amateur playing with powers he didn't understand. He was fighting with a confidence and skill that Derek hadn't expected. For someone who hadn't even gone through their first full moon, Scott was handling himself far better than most new werewolves would. In fact, Derek was starting to realize that Scott might actually be stronger than him.

The thought made Derek uneasy.

Scott, meanwhile, was having the time of his life. Every punch, every slash of his claws felt more natural. He moved with precision, adapting quickly to the ghoul's speed and strength. The ghoul wasn't as powerful as Scott, but it was fast, its healing ability making the fight last longer than it normally would. But Scott didn't mind. He was enjoying himself.

With a sudden burst of speed, the ghoul lunged for Scott's throat, its jaws snapping inches away from his skin. Scott sidestepped and countered with a swipe of his claws across the ghoul's back, sending it crashing to the ground. The creature scrambled to its feet, but Scott was faster. He grabbed the ghoul by the neck and slammed it into the dirt with enough force to shake the ground.

The ghoul writhed, trying to break free, but Scott held it down effortlessly. His grin widened. "I think I've had enough fun for one day."

He raised his claws and, with a swift, precise motion, plunged them into the ghoul's chest. The creature let out a final, pitiful screech before going limp, its body dissolving into ash as Scott's claws tore through its heart.

Silence fell over the clearing.

Scott stood over the pile of ash that had once been the ghoul, breathing heavily but grinning like a kid who had just won his favorite video game.

"That... was *awesome*!" Scott declared, his voice filled with excitement.

Stiles, who had been watching with wide eyes, finally relaxed, letting out a nervous laugh. "Dude, that was insane! You just—just *killed* that thing! Like it was nothing!"

Scott turned to him, still grinning. "Told you I had it under control."

Derek, however, wasn't as enthusiastic. He stepped forward, his gaze hard, though there was an edge of wariness to it now. "You're stronger than I thought."

Scott raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the compliment. "You sound surprised."

Derek's eyes narrowed. "I am. You're not like any new werewolf I've seen before. You shouldn't be able to control your powers this well."

Scott shrugged, his claws retracted back into his fingers. "I guess I'm just built different."

Stiles snorted. "Yeah, 'different' is one way to put it."

Derek's expression darkened. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into, kid. This isn't a game."

Scott met his gaze, his smile fading into something more serious. "I know exactly what I'm getting into, Derek. More than you think."

For a moment, Derek stared at him, unsure what to make of this new, confident werewolf. He had expected some scared kid, barely able to handle the reality of being a werewolf. But this Scott... there was something off about him, something *more*. And Derek didn't know whether that was a good thing or not.

But Scott didn't seem concerned. In fact, he looked like he was still riding the high of the fight.

He glanced at Stiles and Derek, his grin returning as the adrenaline still buzzed in his veins. "That was one of the most exciting things I've ever done. If this is what being a werewolf is like, I think I'm gonna enjoy it."

Stiles let out a relieved laugh, shaking his head. "You're nuts, man. But yeah, that was pretty cool."

Scott turned back to the pile of ash, his smile fading slightly as he thought about what had just happened. The ghoul wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't part of the Teen Wolf story he knew. Something was changing the timeline—and he was going to figure out what.

But for now, he was just happy to have won his first real fight.

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