Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Thirteen

"LOCK IT!"

"Do I look like I have a key?" 

Sierra watched anxiously as the boys bickered and gripped onto the double doors of the high school. They couldn't hear the alpha's growls anymore but knew the monster still lurked on the other side. 

Remembering the bolt cutters he used to get them inside earlier, Stiles stood and looked out the small window to see them lying on the pavement a couple of feet away.

Sierra noticed what he was contemplating and immediately shot the idea down. "No."

He patted Scott's shoulder and disagreed. "Yes."

"Stiles, no!" Scott took Sierra's side.

 It was too risky for him to go outside. However, Stiles didn't care. 

He quietly opened the door he held shut and slipped through the small opening. 

Sierra couldn't breathe as he jogged down the steps and leaned down to grab the tool. 

Suddenly, Scott pounded on the door loudly to get him to come back. The alpha stood next to Stiles's Jeep with a snarl,  and, when it saw Stiles, it began to run towards him. 

Stiles sprinted up the steps and threw open the door, slamming it shut once he made it inside. He jammed the bolt cutters in-between the two handles, locking the teenagers inside the school. 

Sierra hugged Stiles before he could sigh in relief, and squeezed him tightly. "Don't you ever do that again," she told him seriously and grabbed his face in her hands. "You hear me, Stilinski?"

Stiles placed his hands over hers and brought them down to his chest, simply holding her fingers. "Sierra, I'm fine, okay? We're fine."

"I'm not so sure about that last part," Scott stated, still looking out the window. Shining a flashlight through the glass, he failed to spot the alpha lurking anywhere. All three stepped back nervously from the door, and Scott eyed the bolt cutters. "Those won't hold, will they?"

"Probably not," Stiles replied, letting out a deep breath he had held in from running outside. 

They all turned around to see where they could go, but only a pitch-black hallway stood abandoned before them. 

A howl erupted out of nowhere, sending them on the run into a random classroom. 

Scott and Stiles wanted to move a desk, yet Sierra stopped them once the metal made a loud screech. 

"The door's not going to hold it," Stiles told his friends, and Scott nodded in acknowledgment. "It's your boss."

Scott looked up. "What?"

"Deaton?" Stiles clarified with raised brows. "The alpha? Your boss." Stiles pointed at the teen wolf, who shook his head.

"No."

"Yes," the boy argued persistently and rushed out the next part, "Murdering psycho-werewolf."

"That can't be," Scott fought right back; his face fell when Sierra gave him a weird look.

"I hate to say this, Scotty, but he does have a point," Sierra stated, which made Stiles smirk arrogantly. "He disappeared, and not even twenty seconds later, the alpha shows up and kills Derek?"

"We don't know Derek is dead." Scott didn't want to give up hope yet; there was no way the nice veterinarian that he worked for was a murderer.

"Blood squirted out of his mouth," Stiles reminded his best friend in a ramble. "That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury. He's dead, and we're next."