Random Stories about Teen Wolf

Malia Hale.

Hello there ! I am back with a new chapter !

I wanted to let you guys to know that I am definitely a Stydia fan, however, if asked, I could write a story about Stalia (or any other ship really).

 I was listening to the La La Land soundtrack during the writing of the chapter, were you interested in doing the same.

      H O P E       Y O U       E N J O Y !

In this short story, Malia and Liam are siblings, therefore she never lost her family in a car accident. Peter Hale is their father.

Malia breathed out one last time and transformed herself into her "beast" form : a werecoyote. With her sharp fangs, she grabbed a little rabbit by the neck, killing him instantly. "Poor thing, you don't deserve any of this,"  she thought, resentful towards herself and her condition. "But I have no choice : I have to eat you or eat something bigger, like a human, and, for moral purposes, I choose the former."  

She took the lifeless animal in her mouth and made a run for the part of Beacon Hills Forest where her family lived.

When she arrived at the cottage, she found her brother in his room, brooding or doing whatever he spent all his time locked in there for. Her father was out, probably with his new girlfriend. Actually, they must have been dating for two years or so but Malia never bothered to learn her name. To be perfectly honest, she couldn't care less. She barely ever saw her anyway, and her main concern was to keep her bother and herself as far away from their father as possible.

 Why ? you might ask.

To put it lightly, Peter wasn't a good person. At least not anymore. 

When she and Liam were younger, he had lost their mother to a car crash, caused by a drunk driver. He never got over it. He started to strongly despise humans, thinking of them as lesser creatures, and, in spite of all the years he and Lia (that was her mother's name) had spent trying to control their urges as werewolf and a werecoyote, he went on to eating or scaring human beings for fun.

Malia had promised her mother, on her death bed, to take care of her father and Liam. Perhaps her mother had known what Peter would be like with her. After all, Lia had been the only one who could ever tame him in his moments of anguish. The youngest of the Hale siblings, Liam, was only four years old when his mother passed away. For the following years, and despite her young age, Malia gave everything she had to her family. She tried to make everyone happy by taking care of the house, her brother, who had been abandonned by his only parent. She raised him and raised herself. Did her homework and helped him do his. She tried to be the perfect daughter : obey to her father without ever complaining, bring home good grades, helping around the house...

What a fool had she been.

She could recall it clearly now : it was by the second time her beloved father had beaten her relentlessly with a belt, that she had finally understood that something was wrong with him. To this day, the teenager remembers seeing herself in the immense mirror of the living room : her eyes swelled and red, confusion and fear written all over her face. Her whole body ached. There was some blood too. A lot for the little girl she was at the time.

Didn't her "daddy'" love her ? Why would he want to hurt her ? What had she done wrong ?

Peter had apologised the next day and said that if she behaved, nothing of the sort would ever happen again. Our young girl, though skeptical, had given him a chance. However, the next day, her now six-year-old baby brother dropped a plate on his way to the sink and it broke. Her father, whom had been outraged. The guardian of the children started shouting obscenities at the young boy. Liam, not understanding why his father got this angry at a simple mistake, bursted into tears and cried for his "mama". The nickname seemed to have even more so bothered Peter since he threw his wooden chair at full force on the kitchen floor, took his belt out of his pants and started walking towards his son at full strides. Though panic-stricken, Malia acted on an impulse. She took her brother in her arms, carried him with the strength of her little legs (she was eleven years old), ran out the door into the dark night. Thankfully, her aunt Helen lived next by. She had told everything to her aunt that night : how her father started drinking "grown-up juice" about a year ago and never stopped, that he had some at every meal, how he would get furious over any random matters and would hit her very frequently. From this day forward, she and Liam moved in with Helen. When, two weeks later, she had timidly asked about her dad, Helen Hale had responded that he was going to go away for a while in order to get better. Malia had never felt so relieved in her life ! Her aunt had looked at her as if she knew exactly what she had been thinking, had kindly kissed her niece's forehead.