♡Love Me Forever MY ALPHA♡#Wattys2014

Chapter 26...

(Stiles P.O.V)

There's a house in the woods. It's large, but neglected - on the verge of being a ruin. The walls are covered in moss and soot and the floor is littered with old leaves and bones of things that crawled in here to die.

The air is thick and smells of rot and burning flesh, even after all these years. People in town say that the smell will never go away and neither will the screams of pain that echoes between the trees at night.

Some say the shrieks are just the bats that hang under the charred rafters of the house, but most people agree it's the sound of the Hale family burning for unknown crimes in the afterlife, screams echoing onto the plane of the living.

Some nights the screams mingle with another howl – deeper and more feral. They once said it was beasts - not wolves, but something darker; not mindless, but ferocious - but no one ever saw them. All the townsfolk ever saw was the gnawed bones left behind and traces of blood between the trees.

When Stiles was little he used to play in the woods, but that was before the fire. The fire changed so many things. People moved away and the forest around the town became darker. It's hard to say how, but everyone agrees. It's like the ashes of the Hale family is still lingering between the trees, blocking out the sun. Only the town is free from the darkness, like a little beacon in the night.

As years passed, however, people began to forget. They forgot the fire and the screaming. They forgot the chill that runs from head to toe when you venture too close. They forgot the darkness and the way the ground is soaked with blood, rotting and thick like tare.

"It's wolves." They say now, because it's easier to be scared of something you can shoot with a gun or slice open with a knife...

Stiles and Peter sat in the car outside a old warehouse near the northern broader of the Hale territory, taking sips of their coffee while having an intense pissing contest, it's nothing unusual for them... 

Peter and Stiles had been like this the time, the not so sane Peter offered him the bite which the sane Stiles rightfully rejected...

Stiles didn't want to be a werewolf, because according to him, he would look bad wolfed out beta, though other times, he thought that he could have taken it and transformed into a werewolf, and be strong and powerful but then again the Uncle Ben line from Spider-man flashed in his mine: With great powers came great responsibilities...

Stiles laughed to himself and shrugged of the thought, he had responsibilities, bigger or smaller, a) when his mother died he had to take the responsibility and take care of his dad, Sheriff Stilinski... b)when his best friend Scott was bitten by the older not so stable, lurking big bad alpha sitting right next to him, he had to take the responsibility to take care of him c) when Derek arrived in Beacon Hills he had to take the responsibility to take his bullshit, to get slammed on the walls anywhere and everywhere d) then when he took up this job of being the jr. special Agent in Supernatural FBI...

Stiles sighed and put his travelling cup in the cup holder of the car still glaring at Peter who had a frustratingly amused smirk on his face...

"Do you think we will find anything here?" Stiles asked with a scowl on his face... He hadn't slept properly for over a week and he craved sex, he missed touching Erica's soft skin, kissing it, nibbling it, he missed hearing her moaning his name when he pleasured her but for the great Peter Hale who thought that they might get some hint or any movement of the vampires, that might help they  to understand their motives and their plan... So now they have been estranged in the middle of a forest near a warehouse which reminded him of the old burnt down Hale house, and the screaming of the helpless innocent people who were burned alive by some crazy vampire...