Battle Scars ❦ TW/TO

❦ BREAK ON THROUGH

EIGHT years prior, there had been a car accident on the roads leading to the woods of Beacon Hills. The mother and her two daughters in the car wreck were presumed dead but not before Scott had pieced together that one of the daughters had survived.

The stress of the accident paired with the full moon overhead had caused Malia Tate to shift into her coyote form for the first time. Since she had no idea of her supernatural heritage nor any control over her abilities, Malia ended up inadvertently attacking and killing her mom and sister before running away. The guilt of this act led Malia to live as a true coyote in the woods for the next eight years.

After a fairly disastrous encounter with Malia's father, Scott had finally managed to get a scent from one of Malia's many stuffed animals.

Scott, Stiles, and Hope trudged through the woods, looking for the place that Malia had hidden herself away. "You know, if my dad's right, that means there's another werewolf in town that we haven't met yet." Stiles was saying.

Scott shrugged. "I know."

"If it turns out to be something like triplets that form into, like, a three-headed hound of hell, I'm seriously not up for that." Stiles said as they climbed over a fallen tree trunk. Hope wanted to ask why they always went into the woods at night instead of during the day, but she decided not to ask. Scott was much to impatient to wait another twelve hours.

Hope jumped over a fallen log and landed on a pile of leaves with a satisfying crunch. "That would be Cerberus." Hope said and Stiles turned to look at her with a confused look. "You know, the three headed dog that guards the gates to hell? It's classic Greek mythology -- you know what? Never mind."

"I'd rather not have that either." Scott said ignoring Hope's comment. She rolled her eyes at him as he continued, "Especially if I can't even control my own transformation anymore."

A sudden howl filled the area of the Beacon Hills preserve and Stiles jumped like a scared child knocking Scott's phone from his hand. It tumbled down a pile of dirt until it landed into a nearby puddle. The alpha looked at his best friend with a loathing frown.

"Sorry, buddy. I hate coyotes so much. They always sound like they're mauling some tiny, helpless little animal." He said, using both of his hands to make it look like one hand was eating the other.

Hope pushed past him and followed Scott down the hill. He retrieved his phone from the puddle and held it in front of him. The screen was still bright with the directions app he had open.

He released a sigh of relief. "It still works."

Hope glanced around the preserve until her eyes landed on an old car. It was flipped on it's roof and various vines and plants were growing on its rusty surface. "Stiles, Scott look." She said, pointing a finger at the old car. The two boys came closer and Scott kneeled in front of the passenger seat door.

"Why wouldn't they move it?" He asked. "Isn't it evidence?"

Stiles tilted his head to the side looking at the car as if it were the single most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Probably too much of a pain in the ass to tow out." He slid his fingers over the metal where it looked like slash marks had been cut into the door. "Look at this. See those? Animal claws would be closer together, right? A lot closer. "

"So it was a werewolf then." Hope said.

"And my dad was right." Stiles said as he reached into the car and pulled something out from underneath the car seat. It looked like an old raggedy baby doll, but something about it gave Hope the creeps. It was ratted and dirty and worn. All of the hair had fallen out and it seemed like the eyes were bulging from it's slightly squished head.