CHAPTER SEVEN
HOMICIDAL LIZARD▿ ▴ ▿ ▴ ▿ ▴ ▿ ▴
To say that Sherriff Stilinski was upset to see us in the holding room which no longer contained Isaac Lahey would be the understatement of the millennium.
It probably didn't help that when he did find us in the room, Stiles looked around before pointing to the unconscious hunter and saying "He did it." Needless to say, we both got a very long and stern lecture about messing around with police business. Even if Isaac was our friend, which he wasn't but whatever.
Finally after Papa Stilinski had covered every part of the 'I-Can't-Belive-My-Son-and-His-Girlfriend-Let-a-Suspect-Out-of-Jail' speech, we were allowed to leave. Stiles dropped me off as per usual but couldn't come in. He was afraid he'd lose track of time and his dad would get home before he did. After tonight, he really didn't need to get in anymore trouble.
It didn't really bother me. I was in need of a shower and a good night's sleep. Saving a town alongside werewolves' everyday really took a lot out of you. I couldn't remember the last time I went to bed when it was actually a decent time instead of always being past ten, ten thirty. A few nights out of the week, sure that was fine. But waking up every day with less than six hours of sleep was ridiculous.
I had gotten out of the shower and slipped into a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top. I unwrapped my wet hair from the towel and shook it out, small drops of water flinging of it. I raked my fingers through it as I made my way to the vanity, yanking the drawer open. The hair dryer wasn't even out of the drawer when I heard a thump from the hallway.
I froze and slowly turned my wet head towards the door. It was closed and the pale wood seemed to taunt me, as if it wanted me to venture beyond it and find out what made the noise. I took a deep breath and was trying to convince myself that it was just the age of the house. This house had to be pretty old right? And from what I've gotten out of movies is that old houses always make creaky, loud noises.
Another thump sounded and I could feel my heart beat escalating. I let out a gulp. Old houses may make sounds, but I doubted it happened twice in a row. My eyes flickered towards the metal bat that was propped up against the door frame. It reminded me of the night that Stiles and Scott broke into my house and I went down after them with that same bat.
Maybe it was Stiles? I mean, it was totally plausible. It could be that his dad had gotten home and went to bed early and my boyfriend snuck out to see me. Then again, he would probably call me in fear of me assaulting him with the heavy piece of metal sport equipment.
When the third thump was heard, I swallowed the lump that was rising in my throat. I was pretty much having a staring contest with my door, playing a silent game of Eenie Meenie Miny Mo: to go out in the hall or to not go out into the hall.
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Holding Out for a Hero ▸ Stiles Stilinski (2)
FanfictionAs the lines between good and evil were blurred and new, unlikely alliances were formed, there were very few things keeping Carson Bradley sane. But sometimes, even sanity was not enough to win a war when there was already so much blood raining down...